British ambulance driving towards him. As the truck drew level, the driver, a sergeant with a Red Cross armband, leaned out of the window.
'Boy, am I glad to see you,' he said. 'We're horribly lost. Any idea where we are?'
Tanner looked at him, then at the passenger sitting next to him, a woman wearing the grey uniform of a Queen Alexandra's nurse and a tin hat. She stared at him as though she recognized him, then caught his eye, smiled and looked away.
'Er, not entirely sure, I'm afraid,' he said. 'We're lost too. We were trying to get to Poperinghe.'
'You stopping here for the night, then?'
'Yes. Where are you headed?'
'Ypres. We've been on the go non-stop since yesterday evening, taking wounded blokes up to Dunkirk and back. This is our third run but we were trying to be clever and avoid the civvies on the roads. The plan backfired rather.'
'Same happened to us,' said Tanner. 'Have you any idea what's going on at the moment?'
'Has anyone?' He grinned ruefully. 'The evacuation's begun.'
'Evacuation?' said Tanner. 'Really?'
'Yes. From Dunkirk. Bloody mayhem there - you've never seen anything like it. Men are falling back and making straight for the coast while other divisions hold the Jerries back. Yorkshire Rangers, eh?' he said, looking at the black and green shoulder flash on Tanner's battle- blouse. 'We had one of your lot in the ambulance this morning.'
'Where from?' said Tanner eagerly.
'Just south of Ypres somewhere. Wijtschate, I think it was.'
Tanner pushed his helmet to the back of his head. 'How many are they hoping to lift?'
'Search me. Not too many, looking at the place. Dunkirk's been badly knocked about. The port's absolutely had it.' He turned to the nurse beside him. 'What do you think, Lucie? Shall we stop here tonight? No point getting even more lost and we need a rest.'
She yawned. 'Yes, let's. I'm done in. I won't be any use to anyone until I've slept.'
The medic turned back to Tanner. 'Something smells good.'
'We're just cooking some food up now. Ma'am, I'm sure there's room in the farmhouse for you - and your name was?' he asked the sergeant.
'Greenstreet, Jim Greenstreet. And this is Lucie Richoux of the QAs.' He held out a hand.
Tanner shook it. 'You all right dossing down with us in the barn, Jim?'
'Perfect, mate.'
Despite the now fading light, Nurse Richoux received a fair number of stares and glances as she stepped out of the ambulance. Tanner introduced her and Sergeant Greenstreet to the lieutenant. 'The evacuation's begun, sir,' Tanner told him. 'It sounds like First Battalion is one of the units helping to keep a corridor open until the rest have passed through. I bet that's where 151st Brigade were heading - to help keep the Jerries at bay in the Ypres area.'
'Christ,' said Peploe. 'I can hardly believe it. It's not even been three weeks.' He sighed heavily. 'So we were right, then, to head in the direction of Ypres.'
'Sounds like it, sir.'
'Then we'd better try and join them tomorrow. Or at least look for them.' He knocked on the farmhouse door and ushered the nurse forward. 'We'd better make the most of this rest.'
By half past ten the men, Tanner included, were asleep in the barn, their appetites sated. One man, though, was still very much awake. Sergeant-Major Blackstone couldn't sleep. Instead, he lay on the straw drinking a bottle of wine he'd taken earlier in Steenvoorde. The news of the evacuation was the final straw - and still that bloody upstart of a lieutenant wanted them to head to Ypres in the morning. Peploe, Tanner and Sykes - the trio seemed bent on ruining everything. He'd had the whole company eating out of his hand - especially that idiot Barclay. The captain had been just the sort of man Blackstone had wanted as OC. A weak character, suggestible and easily persuaded.
It had been almost ridiculously easy, Blackstone reflected. He'd laid it on pretty thick that he was a highly experienced soldier while subtly yet repeatedly reminding Barclay of his own shortcomings. He'd won over the men in no time, through a combination of charm, easy-going affability and sudden savage threats. A tried and tested formula. In no time at all he'd been running the show, enjoying an easy life and a satisfying amount of power. And when they were thrust into action, as he had known at some point would surely happen, it had been his intention to steer them - and, of course, himself - away from the fray. He saw no reason to get himself killed for King and country when plenty of others were willing to do so.
And there had been rich pickings, too. He'd been building quite a nice little nest egg. When the war was over, he planned to retire in style. It was by chance that he had discovered Slater's criminal past but the two men had quickly come to a working agreement. Blackstone's influence created opportunities that Slater's criminal mind could exploit. Together they were quite a team. The fuel racket at Manston had proved particularly lucrative.
Then Tanner had turned up.
