According to computations by Navy experts, one such shoal was expected to arrive off south Dorset within the hour. Once within a given distance from the shore, aircraft of the Fleet Air Arm would launch an attack with depth charges. A count would then be kept of how many jellyfish were left on the beaches by the ebb-tide.
Before sitting down, Captain Binns emphasised that the basic intention was to test the suitability of such tactics. Any success or failure had to be judged in this light.
A barrage of questions followed these two statements and it was still going on when the sergeant on duty at the side door nodded to Tim to indicate that their transport had arrived. Tim took Jocelyn’s arm and guided her outside. They found a staff car waiting.
A young officer, also wearing one of those knitted jerseys, saluted as they approached.
‘Dr Jocelyn Meadows? And Mr Ewing? I’m Major Burton. I’ve been detailed to look after you.’
‘Thank you, major,’ said Jocelyn. ‘We’ll try not to be too much of a nuisance.’
The major’s blond hair, pale blue eyes and smooth cheeks probably made him seem much younger than he really was, Tim reflected as they shook hands. Boxer’s hands, with a firm, no-nonsense grip.
‘We’ll take you first to the command post where we have some safety clothing for you to change into,’ he explained as they got into the car. ‘Then we’ll go forward and join one of the platoons for a while to give you an idea of what it’s like on the ground. I’m told you’ve both had some direct experience of jellyfish.’
‘You could say that,’ Tim agreed.
‘In that case, you don’t need me to tell you how dangerous they can be. We don’t expect any casualties — the men are well protected — but we do of course have medical units standing by. Very well, driver. Let’s go.’
‘Sir!’
As the car moved off, gathering speed along the country roads, Tim felt irritated that it had not been thought necessary to introduce the driver. Privates or officers — jellyfish made no such distinctions.
He and Jocelyn sat in the back, while the major twisted around in the front seat to chat with them. Tim was right about his being a boxer, he discovered; he was also an experienced mountaineer and an enthusiastic cricketer. No, he’d not actually been close to any jellyfish himself; nor, for that matter, had most of the men, although a few had been involved in beach burnings.
‘As a kid I used to hate ’em at the seaside,’ he confessed. ‘Chopped ’em in half with my spade, nine times out of ten.’
‘Do that, and both halves will still be alive,’ Jocelyn said. ‘Watch out for the tentacles, even after they’re broken off.’
‘So I’ve heard,’ the major said. ‘We’ve been fairly well briefed, as you can imagine.’
About half an hour later the car turned off the road, juddered along a narrow track and eventually stopped in a field in which several other army vehicles were parked. The major jumped out and opened the door for Jocelyn.
‘Command post,’ he informed them briskly. ‘I’ll have to report, but before I do I’ll show you where you can change. I must apologise, Dr Meadows, that we’ve no separate facilities for ladies.’
‘I’ve come here to do a job,’ she answered quietly. ‘I really don’t need special treatment.’
He led them across the grass to a long caravan painted in camouflage patchwork.
‘The general’s caravan,’ he explained in a tone which implied they were being accorded a great honour. ‘He hasn’t moved in yet, so we thought it might make a suitable changing-room for our visitors.’
‘You’re expecting a general?’ Jocelyn sounded surprised.
‘Of course. All the top brass.’
Major Burton saluted briskly, then left them to themselves.
In and around the field there was a general air of military bustle as orders were shouted, platoons of men were lined up and marched off, and others hurried about for no very obvious reason. A couple of large troop carriers pulled out. Near one stationary vehicle a tall aerial mast had been erected, and they could hear the throbbing of a diesel generator not far away.
The caravan was spartan and shabby inside. Its pale walls were covered with sellotape marks where at some time papers had been stuck to them. The vinyl-topped table was stained and there was a tear in one of the seats.
Spread out on a bunk was their protective clothing: waterproof trousers which they could pull over their own jeans, waders, and a parka with a hood for each of them. In addition, the army had provided rubber face-masks which left the mouth, nostrils and eyes free, gauntlet gloves, and goggles.
‘They look sensible enough, at any rate,’ Jocelyn commented, fingering them. Her face was still deadly serious, with no glimmer of a smile. ‘You’d better help me get them on, Tim.’
By the time they were both dressed, the major had returned.
‘Colonel Ross sends his compliments,’ he reported laconically. ‘Unfortunately he is rather tied up at the moment, as you can imagine, but he hopes he’ll have the honour of meeting you later in the day. In the meantime, I’m to take you up to the front line. If you’ll just excuse me for one more second, I’ll get into my own battle clothing.’
It seemed so absurd, Tim thought. Here was a highly professional army with all the techniques of modern warfare at its fingertips, and it was being deployed against — what? Jellyfish.
No doubt the major was thinking much the same as he clumped back in his waders to ask if they were ready to go.
‘If you are,’ Tim said.
For the journey to the front, they abandoned the staff car in favour of an old reconditioned jeep. Once they had climbed aboard the major issued each of them with a long-handled hoe.
‘Requisitioned every garden hoe we could lay our hands on,’ he grinned as he selected one for himself. ‘Best defensive weapon we’ve got against jellyfish, believe it or not. Damn sight more useful than the L1A1 rifle.’
‘Are the men using any firearms at all?’ Tim asked.
‘Machine guns, to break up any concentration of jellyfish. Otherwise, flame throwers.’ He clambered into the front seat. ‘Off we go, driver.’
As they accelerated jerkily over the rough ground, a convoy of three field ambulances passed along the lane at the far side of the field, heading away from the front. On seeing them, the major began to talk urgently into his radio, asking — as far as Tim understood — for a situation report on Sector H where he intended taking his civilian visitors.
He frowned as the answer came through.
‘Trouble?’ Tim enquired, gripping the side of the buggy to steady himself as the driver swung away from the track and into a tarred lane.
‘Five men — burns mostly, though it’s not yet clear how it happened.’ The major turned in his seat to face them both. ‘I should like to make one thing clear. Anything you feel you should see, just speak up. If it’s possible, I’ll arrange it. But I’m also responsible for your safety, so if I decide against — well, I’m afraid that’s final. No argument. OK?’
‘Of course,’ Jocelyn replied absently. ‘How far away are we?’
‘Three or four minutes.’
The lane wound crazily between high hedges, climbing steadily. From time to time they caught glimpses of the extensive landscape beyond, with army vehicles crawling across it like models on a sand-table. The buggy’s engine grumbled noisily as the driver changed down.
They reached the top of the hill unexpectedly, rounding yet one more bend to find themselves on a level stretch where a couple of troop carriers and a smaller truck were parked. The major jumped down and strode across to the small group of men standing near them, all muffled in masks and parkas.