Darkest Hour

clothes. Hands clasped his neck and hauled him away. He thrust his arm backwards, heard the man gasp, but the third figure punched him in the stomach, then again across the face. Tanner tasted blood and pain coursed through him. His rifle had fallen from his shoulder and now he kicked out in front of him as, with his left hand, he felt for his sword bayonet. The man behind still had him tightly by the neck, then a blow connected with his kidney, making him cry out in pain.

'Oi, stop that!' said a voice, followed by a single revolver shot into the air. The effect was immediate: his neck was released, Tanner fell back on to the ground, and two assailants ran off down the street, their footsteps ringing out in the evening quiet. The third got to his feet groggily and ran off too.

'Good job I turned up, Jack.'

Tanner's spirits fell further. Bloody Blackstone. 'Thanks,' he muttered, getting slowly to his feet. He leaned back against one of the Opels and felt his face. His cheekbone was cut and his lip was bleeding. His stomach and side were bruised, too, but the damage might have been worse. He had survived harsher beatings than this one.

'What the bloody hell was all that about?' asked Blackstone, now beside him.

'God knows,' muttered Tanner. 'They just jumped on me.'

'Here,' said Blackstone. 'Have a swig of this.' He passed Tanner a bottle of cognac and Tanner drank, the liquid stinging his mouth and burning his throat.

'Thanks,' he said again.

'Don't know what would have happened if I hadn't shown up,' said Blackstone. 'Three against one. Could have been nasty.' He struck a match, whistled, then lit a cigarette. 'Whoah! You're a pretty sight, Jack.'

'I'll live,' said Tanner.

'Reckon you owe me one now, though.'

'Oh, here we go,' snapped Tanner. 'What do you want?'

'No need to be so touchy. Christ, I save your bloody life and you're having a go at me already.'

'Just spit it out.'

Blackstone chuckled. 'It's a simple thing, really, Jack.' He moved a step closer. Tanner smelt the mixture of tobacco and brandy on his breath. 'Start being a bit friendly, like. As I said to you the other night, I run this company, all right? We do things my way, not yours and Mr Peploe's.'

'Jesus,' said Tanner, 'is that what this is about? You and your sodding little fiefdom?' He laughed croakily.

'Will you start being a good boy, Jack?' said Blackstone. 'You're causing me all manner of trouble.'

Tanner's fists clenched and he stiffened. 'You set this up, didn't you?'

Blackstone moved even closer to him. 'I've tried, Jack, tried to be nice, tried to be friendly. Offered olive branch after olive branch. I'm telling you now. Do as I ask, Jack. Life will be better for everyone if you do.'

Tanner pushed him away. 'Bugger off, Blackstone, will you?'

'I'm not warning you again.'

Tanner straightened, then pushed past him.

'Very well, Jack,' said Blackstone, after him. 'On your head be it.'

Chapter 15

It was not until around seven the following morning, Tuesday, 21 May, that General Lord Gort learned that the French would not be attacking simultaneously with Frankforce. It was Captain de Vogue who rang Major- General Pownall to break the news. Shortly afterwards the liaison officer at General Billotte's headquarters, Major Archdale, confirmed the French decision.

'I'm sorry, my lord, but all they can spare is Third DLM and a few Somua tanks,' said Pownall, from the uncomfortable wooden chair in front of the commander- in-chief's desk that he had spent so many hours on since their move to Wahagnies. He yawned. 'Excuse me,' he muttered. Outside, it was warm already. The morning mist was lifting, the haze in the garden suffused with a promising brightness.

'Here,' said Gort, irritation in his voice. 'Have some coffee.' He stood up and leaned across his desk to the wooden tray on which stood a coffee pot and the remains of a light breakfast. He poured his chief-of-staff

a cup, then said, 'So Altmayer's cracking up, too, is he?'

'Says his men are exhausted and in no position to fight today. Tomorrow is the earliest they could join us.'

'It'll be too damn late by then. You've read the latest sitrep?'

Pownall nodded. 'The Germans have reached Abbeville.'

'And Billotte agrees with Blanchard and Altmayer?'

'According to Archdale, Billotte's been spending his time agonizing over whether a fuel dump should be blown up rather than organizing any counter-attack. And he's moved his HQ to Bethune, which has taken time and caused communication problems. Archdale thinks Billotte's losing his marbles entirely.'

'The devil!' Gort thumped his fist on the table. 'Now's the time to strike - now! It's only the Hun cavalry that's been sending us reeling. The main bulk of the German Army is still miles behind. A big effort today and we slice the head of the German advance from the body. Delay, and the rest will catch up. Then it'll be too late.' He shook his head. 'At least One and Three Corps are holding their line, but let's face it, Henry, if the Germans reach the coast, our lines of supply are going to be buggered. What's the food and ammunition situation?'