except that he was famous for his courtesy and good manners.'
Butler held his breath as the major's good eye became as fishlike for an instant as the glass one. Then the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.
Price, Anthony - [David Audley 08] - The '44 Vintage
'Not just for his good manners, David,' he said coolly. 'He was the greatest captain of the age—the complete fighting man, you might say. Crecy, Poitiers, and Najera, and a hundred skirmishes.'
Audley met the stare. 'Yes, sir?'
He hadn't actually said 'So what?' but he hadn't left it quite unsaid, Butler realised. It had never occurred to him that officers as well as other ranks should have mastered the art of dumb insolence—or it might be better described as dumb arrogance in young Mr. Audley's case; and somehow he didn't think that it was a newly acquired skill.
But at least the set of the subaltern's jaw and the obstinate expression in his eyes settled one question: whatever there was wrong with Second Lieutenant Audley, it wasn't LMF.
Suddenly the major grinned disarmingly, displaying the full range of gold in his mouth.
'Welcome to Chandos Force, David'—he took in Butler with the grin—'and you, Corporal.'
Butler kicked himself for a fool. He had quite forgotten that any test set by the major would be as foxy as the major himself.
'I—' Audley's jaw dropped. 'Sir?'
'Chandos Force. Which I have the honour to command, and in which you have the honour to serve now
—both of you.'
The jeep was slowing down. As Butler was grappling with the significance of what had gone before he was also aware that the sergeant-major was searching the line of trees on the left of the road.
The major looked ahead briefly. 'Another two hundred yards, Sergeant-major—you'll see the broken signpost on the opposite side.' He swivelled back to them. 'And what is Chandos Force going to do, eh?'
'Yes, sir.' Audley sounded a little chastened.
'Naturally. Well, that one will discover in due course. But one is entitled to add two and two if one wishes—as I have . . . that is, if one is good at history as well as arithmetic.'
The test wasn't over.
The jeep was crawling now, almost down to walking pace. But that didn't matter.
Price, Anthony - [David Audley 08] - The '44 Vintage
'I thought code names weren't meant to mean anything,' said Audley slowly. 'But this one does—is that it?'
'So I am authoritively informed.' The major nodded. 'It was apparently coined by a historian like yourself—with an historical sense of humour, so I'm told.'
The major was no historian obviously, thought Butler. But the major was the sort of man who would do his homework if he got half a chance, that was for sure.
'Then I presume we're going to follow in Chandos's footsteps, sir,' said Audley. 'I seem to remember ...
he covered a lot of country in his time.'
The jeep turned off the road, though mercifully it was moving so slowly that there was no danger of a twenty- second collision in the back. Ahead of them Butler saw a track leading across open fields towards a low huddle of farm buildings from which several slender columns of smoke rose vertically in the still air, pale blue in the evening light.
Cooking fires, decided Butler hopefully.
'Very good, David! All you need now is the right word,' said Major O'Conor.
The right word? There were vehicles under camouflaged netting among the trees ahead—the right word?
'
'A chevauchee?' The incredulity in Audley's voice helped Butler to concentrate on his ears rather than his eyes. They would reach the buildings soon enough.
'One of Chandos's specialities. You know what it means?'
'Well ... in modern French it's ... 'a ride,' I suppose,' said Audley pedantically. 'But in medieval French ... it was a raid—and more than a raid.'
Audley had known more about the Hundred Years' War than he had admitted, but the major let that pass.
'Yes, David?'
Audley drew a deep breath. 'It was the classic English tactic for taking what they wanted—take and capture, or rape, burn, pillage, and plunder on the march. That is, unless the people agreed to s-s-submit to their rightful lord, King Edward. But our chaps usually forgot to ask first.'
Price, Anthony - [David Audley 08] - The '44 Vintage
There was a bearded man in a check shirt just ahead. He had a machine-pistol slung round his neck and a cigarette in his mouth.
'Yes . . . well I can't promise you all of that, though we'll do our best of course,' said the major. 'But we are going to take something, certainly.'
