Bodies were strewn across the road, blood seeping into the grit and dust. The smell, mixed with the pungent stench of explosives, petrol and burning rubber, was sickening, and Tanner's stomach tightened. The motorcycles were ruined. Two were burning, while the others stood awkwardly, riddled with bullet holes. Seven stunned Germans staggered in front of them, their arms raised in surrender. Bullets were still detonating in the armoured car behind them, whistling and pinging as they ricocheted around.
Tanner got to his feet. 'Right,' he said. 'We need to move. We can't be sure this lot were the only recce troops around here.'
'What about the prisoners?' asked Sykes, as Hepworth, eyes wide and disbelieving, came towards them.
Tanner tutted. 'We should probably take them with us.' The lead armoured car was still untouched, save for a few dents from Hepworth's bullets. The tyres were also undamaged. 'We could take this. Make them sit on the outside. One of us can drive, another watch them from the turret and the other ride one of their motorcycles. Check them for weapons, then get them to move this lot off the road. And give them some beadies. Poor bastards've just lost their mates.'
Tanner stepped around the bodies and walked a little way along the track until he could look down to the canal. A thick pall of smoke hung heavily over the French positions and was drifting in front of their own lines, but he could hear vehicles starting up. Then another explosion ripped through the air and he saw the bridge across the lock disappear in an eruption of smoke, dust and debris.
'Bollocks,' he muttered. Then he saw that the bridge at Oisquercq had been blown so that only its stone struts still stood, lonely columns jutting out of the water. Amid the fury of their small battle, he had not heard it go up. He reached for his binoculars. A hole had been blown in the bridge over which they had come; the iron fencing stood bent and twisted. But the gallery directly beneath it, which stood sentinel over the lock, remained intact. He realized that the charges under the structure must have failed and that the crater on the bridge must have been caused by a poorly aimed bomb. He reckoned that any vehicle would struggle to cross it, but they themselves would still get over. Now he let his eyes rest on the farm. The roof of the house had collapsed, rubble and broken tiles heaped in the yard. Behind, a number of vehicles stood burning and broken. There was no sign of life. He lowered his binoculars, then brought them back to his eyes. Yes, there could be no doubting it. Columns of men and vehicles were trailing west. The French were pulling back.
Tanner hurried to the others. 'Hep, work out how to drive this thing,' he said, pointing to the armoured car. 'Stan, get the prisoners onto the front.' He noticed Sykes still held a pistol. 'Got enough bullets for that?'
'Half a dozen clips, Sarge.'
'Good. I'm going to get the bike and have a quick look behind us. Then we'll go.'
He strode past the line of wrecked armoured cars and saw that, despite his intention to save both motorcycles at the back of the column, the first lay on its side, petrol still leaking from its tank. The second looked to be all right, so Tanner sat on it, knocked back the stand and kicked down hard on the starter. The BMW engine roared into life. He gunned the throttle, put it into gear, wheeled round and sped off.
Soon, he had cleared the wood. The road forked north and south, but although there was another large wood half a mile to the south, ahead, looking east, he had a clear line of vision. There was a village a couple of miles off and beyond it the countryside stretched away, softly undulating. He paused to peer through the binoculars. Ahead, in the far distance, he saw a cloud of dust rising. 'The German advance,' he muttered to himself. How far away was it? Ten miles? Fifteen? If he was right, they would reach the river in an hour, maybe two.
At the sound of vehicles he turned. Another column of German armoured cars and motorbikes was emerging from the wood to the south. He waved at them, turned the bike round and sped back.
Drawing up alongside the armoured car, he was relieved to hear the engine ticking over. Sykes was standing half out of the turret. 'There's another recce column half a mile away,' he said. 'Has Hep worked out how to drive that thing?'
'I think so.'
'Good. Head straight down this track - it leads to the canal - and make a lot of noise. We don't want any of our lot shooting at us.'
Sykes shouted at Hepworth. The gears ground noisily and then, with a jerk that nearly jolted several prisoners off the front, the armoured car lurched forward. Slowly -
As they reached the track along the canal, a shot cracked out from the far bank, then another. Both were wide, but Tanner stopped and waved his arms frantically above his head. 'Don't shoot!' he shouted. 'We're Rangers!'
Then a burst of machine-gun fire came from behind, kicking a line of earth between him and the armoured car. Turning, he saw several motorcycles speeding out of the wood, manned machine-guns in the sidecars.
'Damn it!' said Tanner, and gunned the throttle as another burst of ill-directed fire hissed over his head. 'Stan!' he yelled. 'Get Hep to put his bloody foot down!'
Hepworth did so, and the armoured car was suddenly speeding forward. His steering was wild and as he swerved against the bank of the track, one of the prisoners fell. Tanner nearly lost control as he dodged round the man. He glanced back. For the moment, they had lost their pursuers. Dust and grit were getting into his eyes and he cursed himself for not taking a set of German goggles. On they sped, round the turning circle in the canal, and then they were climbing back up the bank towards the lock.
Hurtling past the armoured car, Tanner skidded to a halt, leaped off the motorcycle and quickly examined the bridge. The damage was far worse than he had originally thought. An ugly crater lay at one end, while large cracks ran down the side and across the gallery. Suddenly, he heard the structure creak as though it might collapse at any moment. If that happened while they were crossing they would all be dead.
'Stan, get Hep out quick!' he shouted.
Sykes motioned to the prisoners to jump off and, with his pistol, led them to the damaged bridge. 'Go on,' he said, waving his arms. 'Cross the bridge.
They did as they were ordered, sidling past the crater, as Hepworth jumped down from the armoured car. The bridge groaned again, prompting anxious glances from the prisoners. Tanner looked back down the track. Where were the enemy? Perhaps they feared attack themselves. He turned to Hepworth. 'Go on, Hep!' he said. 'Bloody get your arse over that bridge.'
