The sergeant-major stopped beside Audley. 'Main road ahead, sir. When we're sure it's still clear we'll be going across.' He looked across at the American. 'You keep your foot down when we start moving—
understand?' he said.
Sergeant Winston studied him for a second or two. 'Okay.' The soldier had continued on past them.
Butler heard the crunch of boots on the road behind them and Sergeant Purvis appeared.
'You wanted me, Sergeant-major?' Purvis found time to give Butler a friendly nod.
'You take over point section, Sergeant,' said the sergeant-major. 'Hobbes and Macpherson are out ahead of you.'
'Taffy not turned up then?' Purvis shook his head in disbelief. 'I'd never have thought it of him—I always thought he was born to be bloody hanged.'
'Harrumph!' grunted the sergeant-major disapprovingly.
Price, Anthony - [David Audley 08] - The '44 Vintage
'What happens after the main road, Sergeant-major?' asked Audley.
'Two miles of open country, sir. We take that at the double if the road doesn't throw up the dust . . .
Then there's good wooded country, sir.' The sergeant-major straightened. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, sir
—'
'Carry on, Sergeant-major.' Audley smiled at the American as Swayne marched away, carrying Sergeant Purvis in his wake. 'You've just heard my favourite command, Sergeant Winston. It's the only one I can rely on not to get me into trouble. At least until now.'
'Is that a fact?' Winston turned towards Butler. 'But I think I'd like to hear you say 'Carry on, Corporal'
right now.'
Butler looked over his shoulder, then back at Audley. Of all the bandits, Sergeant Purvis was the only one he would have been inclined to half-trust. But the villainous-looking replacement in Purvis's jeep was another matter.
'I think we'll just wait a minute,' said Audley, evidently coming to the same conclusion. 'When we get on the road again . . .'
Far away behind them there came a whining snarl of distant engines; not the steady beat of the aircraft which had circled above them at the river, but a sharper and more malevolent sound.
'Limejuice,' whispered Audley, staring back into the pale bluish morning sky. 'Limejuice!'
'Huh?' said Winston.
'Typhoons.' Audley searched the sky. 'If there are any Germans left back at the river, then God help the poor devils.'
'Jee-sus!' murmured Winston, looking in the same direction. 'The stubby bastards with the rockets—
Typhoons?'
Audley's mouth twisted one-sidedly, as though the sergeant had touched his bruised shoulder. 'That's right.'
Winston whistled softly. 'Man—I saw some of their handiwork at Mortain. But how'd they get here so quickly?'
'Standing patrol in the air. The major must have put them up before dawn, just in case.'
Price, Anthony - [David Audley 08] - The '44 Vintage
The American looked around him. 'Just for ... you guys? A standing fighter-bomber strike on call?' His eyes came back to Audley. 'You're not joking?'
Audley shook his head. 'No joke.'
Engines burst into life ahead of them, drowning the sound of those other more powerful engines away to the north just as their note changed.
'No joke,' muttered Sergeant Winston. 'Then let's get to hell out of here, like the man said.'
They'd just reached the road junction when the sound behind overtook them. The jeep ahead bounced into the air as it roared up the incline of the minor road onto the major one, warning Butler to hold on for dear life. He felt the bazooka and the C rations lift under him as the distant crash of the exploding rockets and the ratde of cannon fire passed over his head. He wondered how the little shuttered homes beside the embankment had fared.
He glimpsed a long, straight road, and a fairy-tale house with round towers topped by conical roofs of smooth blue-black slate. Then they were over the junction and racing down another narrow tree-shadowed road like the one they'd just left, the jeep lifting in anotiher stomach-sickening bounce as they did so. Something flicked past them away over the fields to his left, a mere blur of movement flashing on and off between the trees so fast that it mocked their own furious pace. Then, with a tremendous surge of power, an RAF Typhoon rose across the funnel of sky ahead of them in an almost vertical climb. The sun glinted for a fraction of a second on its cockpit hood before it curved out of Butler's sight, turning it into a diing of beauty in the instant of its disappearance.
'He's going to make another pass,' shouted Audley.
'Don't mind me if I don't stay to watch,' Winston shouted back at him.
The land started to rise gently under them. They passed another shuttered farmstead with no sign of life around it except a goat tethered to a pear tree in a parched orchard. The goat had huge udders— Butler had never seen a goat with such big udders. Come to that, he thought, he had only once before seen a goat.
Then the trees thickened on each side of them and their speed came down to a more comfortable level.
