Tanner looked at his watch. 'It's just gone five now and we watched you come down about twenty past four. So, that's three-quarters of an hour.' Tanner now stepped up beside him. 'Squadron Leader Lyell, is it just your head or are you hurt anywhere else?'
Lyell looked at him sharply. 'How the devil d'you know my name?'
Tanner pushed his helmet back. 'We met at Manston, sir.'
'You!' exclaimed Lyell. 'What the bloody hell are you doing here? Don't tell me I've survived only to be shot at again by a mad Tommy.'
Tanner couldn't help smiling. 'You're not drunk in charge of a vehicle this time, sir. We're with the rest of the battalion, dug in along the far side of the canal.'
Lyell struggled to suppress a cry of pain. There were beads of sweat and blood on his brow and a dark gash near the top of his forehead. 'My bloody head.'
'Lads, keep your eyes peeled,' said Tanner. Then, with Smailes, he squatted beside Lyell.
Lyell winced. 'I survive Christ knows how many bullets and cannon shells, then hit my head trying to bale out.'
Smailes placed his hands gently around the cut on the squadron leader's head. Immediately he yelled with pain. 'Christ, man! Jesus, aargh! Get your sodding hands off me.'
'I've got to determine what you've done, sir.'
'Isn't it bloody obvious? Just get me out of here.'
'Let me give you some morphine, sir. It'll relieve the pain.'
'Yes,' gasped Lyell, leaning his head back. 'Please do.'
As Smailes took a syringe and a phial from his medical bag, Tanner had a good look round. The meadow was, he guessed, about a dozen acres, lined with hedgerows of varying thickness. There were more meadows at either side and tracks, too, linking them. To the top was the wood they could see from the far bank. How deep it was, or what lay on the other side of the ridge, he had no idea.
Having eased off Lyell's Irvin, Smailes pushed up his sleeve and injected the morphine into his arm.
'Aah,' sighed Lyell.
'All right, Smiler,' said Tanner to Smailes. 'We should try to lift him now and get him to safety. Here, Billy, help Smiler with Squadron Leader Lyell.'
Ellis and Smailes each put an arm round his back and placed his on their shoulders.
'One, two—'
'What's that?' said Tanner, turning his ear to the woods above them.
'Just help me up, will you?' groaned Lyell.
'Sssh! Sorry, sir, but keep quiet a moment, will you?'
He listened again, and then they all heard it. Engines - several of them.
'Sounds like motorbikes to me,' said Sykes, in a hushed tone.
'Exactly,' said Tanner. 'Right. One, two, three - up.' Lyell's silk parachute lay on the ground. 'Leave that,' he said, seeing Lyell glance at it. 'Quick, get him to that hedge at the side of the meadow.'
They hurried over to it, then put Lyell back on the ground.
'Right,' said Tanner. 'Billy and Smiler, can you two carry him on your own?'
'I think so, sir,' said Smailes.
'Good, then give us your ammo and get going, quick as you can make it. If Jerry comes and you don't think you can get across the bridge safely, take cover and wait, but make sure you use the same route we took to get here. Iggery, OK? Stan, Hep, you come with me.'
'Where are we going, Sarge?' asked Hepworth, eyes wide.
'Just a little recce. Here, take the Bren - and no more grumbling.'
Crouching, he led them along the edge of the field. He could still hear the motorcycles, moving around on the hill above them. Instinct told him they were German - after all, the Belgian Army was on the left flank of the BEF, not here, and they'd seen few Belgian civilian motorcycles on the road. As they reached the edge of the wood, he still couldn't see them, but the sound was louder and coming from either side of them - several motorcycles seemed to be moving away to their left and more to their right. Indicating to Sykes and Hepworth to crouch behind an oak each, he paused to look back over the French and British lines. He could see Oisquercq clearly, the bridge intact. Some trucks trundled through the village, the mirror or windscreen of one glinting until it turned out of the direct line of the sun. And there were the farm and the lock. There was no sign of the other three.
'I want to get a better look,' he hissed. 'We'll move forward through these trees, but make sure you keep your ears sharp and your eyes open.'
They pushed on, half crouching, using the trees as cover. The wood floor was a carpet of bluebells. Shafts of sunlight poured through the canopy of oak, beech, birch and spruce. There were a few bushes here and there, bracken and rotten logs or fallen trunks, but otherwise it was easy to move, and, thankfully, soft underfoot.
Tanner now heard more vehicles moving forward, then a voice. It was too distant to make out clearly, but he sensed there was a road or track ahead to their right. He pointed to the direction of the engines, conscious that he could still hear a motorcycle moving away to their left and now almost behind them.
Suddenly he glimpsed something ahead, crouched lower and signalled to the other two to do the same.
