Here Be Monsters

thinking 'Sheer madness! Not a hope, if Jerry's on the top - glad it's not me!'' He grinned ancient nicotine-stained fangs at Elizabeth. 'Amazing how it comes back!

Killed a lot of men training, did the Americans. Had a lot of men to kill, of course - big country… But these were good men - very keen - could see that.' 'And that must have been when you were involved on the Merville planning, Maurice?' Colonel Sharpe interrupted him gently.

'Probably was. Another piece of lunacy! 'Never drop half the men within twenty miles', I told 'em. They wanted to land gliders right on the battery! 'Not a chance', I said. 'Only chance you've got - Jerry won't believe what's happening - probably give him heart-failure'.'

'But you said 'Go' all the same.' The Colonel paused. 'And weren't you scheming to go with them?'

'Of course.' The Major retired for a moment behind a foul-smelling smoke-screen. 'Just curiosity - wanted to see what sort of b———mess-up they made of it.' He applied another match to his pipe one-handed. 'And they did.' He stabbed the pipe-stem towards Elizabeth.

'Took the battery, though - got to give them that - bloody massacre all round - sorry to have missed it. But that's the luck of the game, Liza.'

Elizabeth stared at Major Birkenshawe. When he had talked with Father there had of course been no place for her, even if she'd wanted to stay. So, in all these years, she'd regarded him as an old buffer - to a pig-tailed child he'd seemed an old buffer from the beginning, and as they'd both aged he'd become one. But once upon a time there'd been a dummy2

young Major Birkenshawe, happily and bloodthirstily engaged in planning daring deeds.

And (what was perhaps more eloquent) he could still dismiss the ruin of his military hopes and his mutilation as 'the luck of the game', as Father had never been able to do.

'Boring you - or shocking you?' He might not be the same to her now, but she was evidently the same helpless female to him. 'Besides - Americans, what you want -Rangers, too - Omaha, for them. And the right of the line - always the place of honour, eh Sharpe?'

'Yes.' Colonel Sharpe zeroed in on Elizabeth again, with that too-knowing eye of his. 'But it's all in the books and the records, Miss Loftus.'

'So it is, Colonel. But is it all correct?' She didn't really know what she wanted.

'What d'you mean - correct?'

'Well - ' How could she explain that whatever she wanted, whatever it was, could hardly be in the public library, if Oliver St John Latimer wanted it? 'For example, the Rangers landed at a place called 'Pointe du Hoc'.'

'That's right. That was the place Maurice saw them practising cliff-climbing for. There was supposed to be a German battery there, which had to be taken out somehow - like the Major's battery at Merville, which was beyond the eastern flank of the British landing beaches. They both flanked the landing areas. In fact, I think the Pointe du Hoc guns could have taken in the Utah beaches as well, actually. They couldn't be left to get on with the job, Miss Loftus.'

'But there weren't any guns on Pointe du Hoc, Colonel.'

He nodded cautiously. 'No… as it happened, there weren't. The Germans had prudently pulled them back to a new position.'

'Which wasn't manned?' But if there was a mystery here, why should it interest the Deputy-Director?

'True. But things always go wrong in battle.' He shrugged. 'That whole area was heavily bombed - and bombarded. But, in any case, a Ranger patrol still found the guns and disabled them. And that was even before they'd finished with the garrison at Pointe du Hoc, if I remember correctly.'

Major Birkenshawe nodded agreement. 'They were good men - I told you, eh? Proper desperadoes - gangsters, I shouldn't wonder - probably all enlisted in Chicago!'

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The Colonel cast a sardonic glance at his friend. 'I rather think the Rangers were more like the old frontiersmen, with their fieldcraft and initiative - ' He caught himself, as though he suspected that he had been sidetracked. ' - what exactly is it that you want, Miss Loftus?'

They were back to that, thought Elizabeth. 'You know that in Chester Wilmot's book - and in another one I've looked at - the name isn't spelt correctly: it says 'Pointe du Hoe' , not Pointe du Hoc'?'

'Is it the Pointe du Hoc you're interested in?' The Colonel's voice was too casual.

'Isn't that where they've just been junketing?' the Major intervened. 'One of the places, anyway - read about it recently - Her Majesty the Queen and the President - that actor chappie - and the Frogs. Kept the Germans out, for some reason - ?' He frowned. 'Read something else, too. Just yesterday - in the Telegraph - ' He became aware that the Colonel was quelling him with a look. 'Sorry! Pointe du Hoc, you were saying - ?'

If the Colonel was close to anything, he was too close, decided Elizabeth. 'The Rangers landed elsewhere, did they?'

'Yes.' The Colonel was only slightly diverted from his suspicions. 'There were two battalions of them.'

'Yes?' Elizabeth could see professional memories weakening him.

'They took heavy casualties. Fifty per cent or more in some companies.' He drew a breath.

'Lack of specialized armour, that was largely due to… and a predilection for frontal attacks on strong points - not the way to use elite troops. They should have been infiltrated through the weak points.' He caught himself again. 'The main force was supposed to swing west, and link up with their comrades on the Pointe du Hoc, you see, Miss Loftus.'

'Hah!' exclaimed Major Birkenshawe. 'Now that was a strong-point, guns or no guns!' Then he shook his head. 'She doesn't understand, y'know!'

'That was the correct use of Rangers, actually.' Colonel Sharpe watched Elizabeth, and ignored the Major. 'Only