'Excuse me, sir,' he said, 'but the OC wants you and Sergeant Tanner in the house.'
'All right,' said Peploe.
They followed him into the kitchen where Captain Barclay, Blackstone, Lieutenant Bourne-Arton and Sergeant Seaton of 11 Platoon were already standing around an old pine table. Squadron Leader Lyell was resting on a cushioned window-seat, while the farmer and, Tanner assumed, his wife stood at the range, attending to some food.
'Ah, there you are,' said Barclay, as they entered. 'I've been thinking about what we should do.'
Tanner caught Peploe's attention, then nodded towards the farmer and his wife.
'Sir?' said Peploe. 'Don't you think we should have this conversation in private?'
'Eh?' said Barclay. 'It's all right - they don't understand English.'
'I speak a little,' said the woman.
'Oh,' said Barclay, straightening.
'For God's.sake,' muttered Lyell.
Flustered, Barclay said to the woman, 'Er, would you mind awfully leaving us for a few minutes?'
She tugged at her husband's sleeve and the two left the room. Then, clearing his throat, Barclay spread the map upon the table. 'Right. God knows where the rest of Battalion have gone. Must have turned off somewhere along here, I suppose.' He pointed to the road between Rebecq and Steenkerque.
'Whatever, Hector,' said Lyell. 'We've lost them. That's the point.'
'Yes,' said Barclay. 'And, frankly, I don't think we can bank on finding them again now. Maybe we will - you never know - but from now on, we've got to think and act for ourselves.'
'Then we head due west, sir,' said Blackstone. 'If we don't bump into the rest of the battalion, we'll probably meet some other British troops. It's a general retreat, after all.'
'Yes, but we don't know where we're retreating to, CSM,' said Barclay. 'Could be south, could be north.' He cleared his throat again. 'But we do know where BEF Headquarters is.' He looked up at the others. 'Arras. I hardly think the Germans will overrun that before we can get there.'
'Arras? But how far's that?' said Blackstone.
'Hundred miles at the most.'
'Why don't we work it out on the map, sir?' suggested Peploe.
Barclay looked at them sheepishly. 'I haven't one - not of that area, at any rate. I'm afraid Captain Wrightson has the maps we used to get here.'
'Now I've heard it all,' said Lyell. He'd done nothing but whine ever since they'd picked him up, Tanner thought, and had they not bothered in the first place, they wouldn't have lost contact with the rest of the battalion. He couldn't understand why the captain wasn't firmer with the man.
'I thought we could ask the farmer if he had a map,' said Barclay, his unlit pipe sticking from the side of his mouth.
'Jesus wept,' said Lyell. 'I've got one.' He delved into the inside pocket of his tunic, took out a crumpled map of Belgium and northern France and handed it to Lieutenant Bourne-Arton.
Everyone gathered round as Barclay spread it out across the table. 'Less than a hundred miles,' said Barclay. 'More like seventy or so. We'll head towards Mons, then Douai and Arras. Agreed?'
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Blackstone said, 'If you say so, sir.'
'Good,' said Barclay, trying to brighten. 'We can't afford to stop for the night - we can rest up at some point tomorrow. I suggest we aim to be on the road again at, say, midnight. All right?'
Tanner left Peploe and the other officers in the farmhouse and went out into the yard to find the platoon. He only had to follow his nose, and headed through a gate at the end of the yard into a pasture that led to the river. Dim lights flickered ahead of him - from torches, from the low paraffin flames of stoves and the glowing red ends of cigarettes. The smell of chicken and eggs, frying in mess tins, wafted into the still night air, blending with the dewy damp of the meadow and the whiff of tobacco smoke.
He found Sykes's section standing or squatting around a Primus stove by an ageing willow on the riverbank.
'So what are we doing?' Sykes asked.
'Keep going tonight.'
'Thought as much. Where are we headed?'
'BEF Headquarters at Arras.'
'Jesus,' said McAllister. 'If you ask me, Sarge, that captain doesn't know his arse from his elbow.'
'That's enough, Mac.'
'It's true, though, sir.'
'I said, that's enough.'
'I'm only saying what everyone thinks. We had the whole battalion not half a mile away and we've managed to lose them.' Bell and Kershaw nodded in agreement. 'One of the lads in Company HQ said that the CSM told the captain we should have all gone to Oisquercq with Ten Platoon and those Jerry prisoners. If you ask me, Captain Barclay should have listened to him.'
Tanner leaned down, grabbed McAllister's collar and yanked him to his feet. 'I'm not asking you,' he said.
