And then we had the devil of a job getting to the start line here, I tell you. So there just wasn’t time. Apart from which we should have left him behind, in any case – ’ Audley caught his complaint.
‘I don’t mean that insultingly, Fred. But we had Caesar Augustus’s briefing before you arrived. And I thought you’d rather have a decent night’s kip than tag along behind this shambles – ’
‘Do shut up, David, there’s a good fellow.’ Mild reproof overlaid de Souza’s earlier sharpness. ‘It isn’t a shambles–’
‘Thank God for that! We can’t afford another – ’
‘ Shut up . . . Captain Audley.’ De Souza paused just long enough to make sure that discipline had been reestablished. ‘Let me assure you that it isn’t a shambles, major. In fact, thanks to the efficiency of our loyal American allies, it seems to be going strictly according to plan at this moment.’
A shaded flashlight illuminated the ground between them suddenly in a pale yellow circle. ‘Don’t worry, major – we’re a mile from dummy4
the objective, and several hundred feet of well-forested undulations. But I want to show you the map. And then Captain Audley can fill you in with the details . . . Just hold your umbrella up, over us – okay?’
Fred glimpsed a cellophane-covered map, and below it a soiled canvas bag at de Souza’s feet on the edge of the yellow circle, as he raised Audley’s umbrella over them both.
‘We’re here – ’ The flashlight seemed to be attached to de Souza’s waterproof jacket somehow, leaving him a free hand ‘ – that red circle marked “A1”. And next we’re moving up to “A2” – there.’
It was not an issue map. But that didn’t matter – what mattered was that he could see the operation at a glance: the objective was an isolated building in thick forest, and there were a number of routes
– forest tracks? – converging on it; and each was marked with a series of numbered letters and times which brought different groups to precise points simultaneously on the circumferences of ever-smaller circles, until they reached the centre.
‘Yes, sir?’ It all seemed rather elaborate, until he remembered all TRR-2’s ‘bad luck’ in the past. And it wasn’t for him, as a new recruit, to criticize, anyway. ‘Nobody’s going to get out of there.’
But then he became aware of the darkness outside their own yellow circle. ‘Except ... it is damnably dark – ?’
‘Don’t worry. Our American friends are bringing up searchlights –
“B”, “D” and “F” will illuminate the objective at 0230 hours precisely. Then it’ll be brighter than daylight around the whole perimeter. And in case you’re wondering how we’re going to dummy4
manage a silent final approach, just don’t give it a thought.’
‘No – yes?’ Fred had been worrying about no such thing, but the mention of the American involvement made de Souza’s confidence all the more surprising. This was their zone, of course, so presumable they had a right to be involved. But he remembered floundering all-too-noisily in Italian darkness (and Italian mud), hauling equipment across country to several disastrous river-crossing attempts.
‘Yes.’ De Souza chuckled softly. ‘Dealing with silence will be Major Jake Austin’s contribution – you met him this afternoon, off the plane, I believe – ?’ The adjutant bent down to retrieve the canvas bag. ‘A most efficient officer, Jake . . . But here, Freddie – ’
He thrust the bag at Fred ‘ – you hold on to this, and follow David here . . . And David – you tell him what’s what, eh? Any questions?’
Audley emitted a strangled sound, but then silenced himself.
‘You were going to say something David?’ The torch went out, leaving them in blind man’s darkness. ‘Spit it out, man!’
How the hell were they going to find their way to A2? thought Fred despairingly as he hugged the bag. For Christ’s sake ask that!
‘N-no.’ Audley trailed off.
‘Good. Then I’ll see you again at A2. And do try to be on time for once.’
Gradually Fred’s night-sight returned, so that he could just make out the large vague shape of Audley as he squeezed the bag’s contents. It had an incomprehensively soft feel to it ... but it wasn’t dummy4
entirely soft: in fact, from its weight it almost certainly contained a weapon of some sort, wrapped in some sort of thick material . . .
and also what felt uncommonly like ... a pair of boots. A pair of boots – ?
There were two slight crack-crunch sounds as de Souza trod on fallen branches in departing. Then the sodden, dripping forest-silence closed in on them – a not-so-quiet silence, to go with the not-quite darkness.
‘God, it’s miserable, isn’t it!’ exclaimed Audley. ‘Although, you know, I don’t think it’s raining quite so hard, actually. And the American weather chaps said it would be clearing from the west before dawn – that was Jake Austin’s final contribution at this afternoon’s briefing before he went off to collect you . . . Do you think it’s clearing, Fred?’
Dawn was still a very long way away, thought Fred. ‘Jake Austin is the pig-fancier, is he?’
‘Yes. Good chap, though – jolly efficient, like Amos said. Ex-Mustang pilot . . . but into all sorts of nefarious enterprises now.
Shall we go, then?’
He sounded confident! ‘You know which way to go, then?’
‘Oh yes – sure . . . You know, it is raining less – good show!
Actually, I’m blind as a bat at night – it was a great mercy that we couldn’t fight tanks in the dark, in the late nastiness . . . “Just follow the rear light of the tank in front”, when they wanted to get us somewhere before dawn, out of the laager . . . and I could depend on my driver for that. But at least they didn’t expect us to dummy4
fight. Next time round, it’ll be done by radar – goggling at screens and pushing little buttons. But with a bit of luck I shall n’t be there
– I hope I’ll be too old ... or doing something safer, somewhere else . . . Shall we go?’
Next time round? ‘What’s in this bag?’
‘The bag? Oh yes! Battle-dress, blouse and trousers, medium size . . . belts – one, gaiters – two, boots GS –one pair . . . beret –
one. But don’t ask me about badges and rank, and all that – Amos has a funny sense of humour there, so it could be anything. And he forgot to tell me, anyway.’
Christ! ‘What’s it all for, David?’
‘Ah . . .’ A shielded light showed suddenly. ‘Sorry about this – but I can’t read my wrist-watch in the dark ... it just doesn’t seem to show up, the way it should ... or maybe I need spectacles, I don’t know – ah! Okay! We’ve got a full five minutes in hand, actually.
So ... what’s it all for, did you ask? It’s quite simple, really: we are about to deceive our loyal American allies, that’s all.’ The light went out.
‘How?’ Madness! ‘Why?’
‘How? Ah . . . well, you remember what we’re doing –I did tell you just before dinner. Rather hurriedly, I admit. But I did.
Number 21, and all that –remember – ?’
‘Number 21? The man in the photograph?’
‘That’s right: “Key-of-the-Door”, like in Housey-Housey – a mindless game of quite excruciating boredom, which I shall never forget because we were obliged to play it endlessly while we were dummy4
in readiness for Normandy. You know it?’
‘For Christ’s sake, David!’ Steady! ‘Number 21 – we’re going to pick up Number 21 – does he have a name?’
‘He does. But he won’t be using it tonight, and neither will we. For our purposes he’s now “Keys”, Fred. But the name you’ve got to remember is “Krausnick” in any case –“Krausnick” – okay?’