A New Kind of War

the farmer, but Colonel Colbourne and RSM Levin, both dressed in civilian tweeds, yet with their medals at the breast –

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‘ – that’s all ... Thank you, Mr Levin. I shall look for Driver Hewitt as soon as I’ve finished talking to Captain Audley . . . and the adjutant.’

No one enlarged on that for a moment. Then the RSM

saluted de Souza smartly, and strode away, stiff-backed. And, for another moment, no one enlarged on that, either.

‘Phew!’ murmured Audley finally.

‘Oh yes . . .’ De Souza looked from one to the other, more philosophically than expecting a straight answer.

‘So what mischief have you two been up to, then? Not annoying Mr Levin, I hope – ?’

‘G-Good Lord, no!’ Audley relaxed like a schoolboy.

‘P-p-p . . . perish the thought, Amos!’ Then he straightened up belatedly. ‘Actually, Amos – ’

‘The truth, please.’ De Souza shook his head. ‘Come on, young David – I have to run this Fred Karno’s outfit . . . one way or another – the truth, please.’

‘Of course!’ Audley was plainly delighted by this unwise admission of weakness. ‘I was just going to tell you – ’

‘Yes, Amos.’ Fred overruled the boy sharply. ‘I was.

And I’m sorry.’

‘Yes?’ De Souza raised a hand to silence Audley, dummy4

without looking at him. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing, really.’ Also without looking at the young man Fred understood the problem the boy represented: brains and over-promoted youthful arrogance, and immaturity, plus a tongue like a cow-bell, would not endear him to an RSM with no other subalterns to bully. ‘I rather think the RSM was pulling rank ... or pushing it, if you like.’ He shrugged. ‘But I was tired, so when he pushed, I pushed back, I’m afraid.’ As always, honesty eased his conscience. ‘It wasn’t necessary. But I did – and I’m sorry, Amos.’

‘Yes . . . you will be – huh!’ There was no sympathy in Audley’s murmur. ‘Busy-Izzy’s a bad enemy – as I can testify from bitter experience, by golly!’

‘Shut up, David.’ De Souza didn’t bother to look at Audley. ‘That’s fair enough, Freddie – take no notice of that. Levin’s a good man.’

But that wasn’t all, Fred sensed. ‘He is?’

‘Actually, yes.’ De Souza accepted his doubt. ‘He knows his duty, and he does it.’

That still wasn’t all. So Fred waited for more.

De Souza nodded. ‘He was with the CO in the desert.

Hence his DCM. That was at Alam Haifa. When things weren’t so good.’

From de Souza that was no small accolade, that understatement. But it still wasn’t what the Major dummy4

wanted to say. And that whetted Fred’s appetite even more.

‘Yes-?’

‘All your service has been in Italy, hasn’t it – ?’

Beneath the innocent inquiry there was a curious hesitancy, almost embarrassment. ‘And in Greece, of course – as we all know!’

What the hell did that mean? Of course they all bloody-well knew!

‘For God’s sake, Amos!’ Having been hopping and twitching and charing on the sideline, like a reserve in a losing game, Audley exploded suddenly. ‘Levin’s a swine, for God’s sake! So –’

‘ Shut up, David!’ De Souza’s snarl was as uncharacteristic as his hesitancy, with its suddenly-undisguised anger glowing red now.

‘Sorry!’ From trying to push himself into the action, Audley shrank into himself. ‘Amos, I didn’t m-m-mean

–’

‘ Shut up – ’ De Souza caught his anger quickly ‘ – I know you didn’t mean to interrupt me. You just wanted to hear the sound of your own voice, that’s all.’ He disengaged himself from Audley. ‘As I was attempting to say, Freddie ... we were pulled out of Greece pretty soon after you happened to cross our path, and we ended up more or less attached to VIII Corps in their dummy4

final advance. Between Hanover and Hamburg, we were . . . And you heard of the concentration camps, obviously – eh?’

‘Yes.’ He sensed de Souza wanted him to say more than that. ‘Of course we did. We heard they were . . .

pretty disgusting.’

‘Pretty disgusting?’ De Souza stared at him. ‘Yes . . .

well let’s just say they were worse than anything you care to imagine and leave it at that, shall we?’ He drew breath. ‘And Mr Levin had the bad luck to run into this particular camp, at Bergen-Belsen, near Celle, where most of the poor devils were Jews, you see. There were others there: resistance prisoners from all over, and quite a few