'I'm sorry, Lieutenant,' said Barclay, 'but he's being handed over to the police and that's all there is to it. Whatever his merits as a soldier, we cannot have rapists among our number.'
'That's bollocks, sir, and you know it. Throughout its history, the British Army has been littered with thieves, murderers and ne'er-do-wells.' He glared pointedly at
Blackstone. 'And, as I've said, I don't believe this baloney for one minute. Let me have him back today, and if we all come through unscathed, I'll prove his innocence afterwards.'
'He's a rapist, sir,' said Blackstone. 'You have a moral obligation to hand him over to the authorities and deal with this in the proper manner.'
'I want Tanner with me today,' said Peploe. 'And, what's more, if you insist on continuing with this farce, sir,' he said directly to his commanding officer, 'I will be left with no choice but to resign my commission immediately.'
Barclay was appalled. 'You can't do that!'
'I can, sir, and I will. I don't want to be part of a regiment that treats its men so monstrously, or to serve under a man who is prepared to believe the word of a young girl about whom we know nothing over a soldier who has repeatedly proven himself courageous, dependable and utterly loyal, a man who has already been decorated for valour in the face of the enemy and whose experience will be an invaluable asset today. I was a farmer before the war, sir. I had no need to join up, but I did so because I believe we have a moral duty to fight and defeat Nazism. I certainly did not join to find myself fighting my biggest battles with those on my own side. Now, I don't wish to add another false allegation, but let me say this: I believe there are certain elements within this company who are far bigger trouble-makers than Tanner will ever be. This nonsense has the ring of a personal vendetta about it, one that needs to be stamped on hard.' He looked straight at Blackstone.
Barclay followed his gaze. 'What the devil are you saying, man?'
'Quite enough. As I say, I prefer hard facts before I make any accusation.'
Barclay bit his lip and knotted his hands. 'Rape's a serious allegation, though. I've got to be seen to do the right thing.'
'In that case, sir, I resign.' He began to unbutton his webbing.
'Sir, you can't just ignore a charge like this,' insisted Blackstone.
Barclay groaned and stood up. 'All right, Peploe!' he exclaimed. 'I'll release him. For now.'
'And I want him to have his stripes back, sir. In Britain, a man is innocent until proven guilty. So far, Tanner's guilt has not been established.'
'This is blackmail, sir,' said Blackstone.
'Be quiet, CSM!' shouted Barclay. He went over to a dresser that stood along one side of the kitchen, picked up Tanner's stripes and handed them to Peploe. 'I was doing what I thought was right,' he said, utterly dejected. 'Let's hope Tanner proves worthy of the faith you have in him, Lieutenant.'
'I have absolutely no doubt that he will,' said Peploe.
'It's a quarter to ten, Peploe. Get Tanner and make sure your platoon are ready in a quarter of an hour.' He sighed heavily. 'But don't think this matter is closed. We've a battle to fight, but afterwards . . .' He trailed off.
Peploe and Sykes saluted, then fetched Tanner.
'Thank you, sir,' said Tanner, as he took his stripes back.
'Here,' said Peploe, delving into his pack for his housewife. 'You'd better get them sewn back on quick. Reckon you can have it done in five minutes?'
'I'll do it, Sarge,' said Sykes.
'Good. I'll go and sort out the men. Meet us by the trucks as soon as you can.'
'Thank you, sir,' said Tanner again. He then stood still while Sykes's nimble fingers quickly stitched one set of stripes, then the other into the thick serge.
'There,' said Sykes, eventually. 'Those should hold for the moment, at any rate.'
D Company set off a few minutes after ten, driving out of the square and up the hill, past the giant Canadian war memorial, erected only a few years before in honour of those killed during the last war against Germany. It gleamed proudly in the morning sunshine. Behind, pockets of mist still hung in the valley. Ahead, young pines sprouted up through the still pockmarked landscape of Vimy Ridge.
'Thank God for mobile warfare,' said Peploe as he gazed out from the cab of the Opel.
Tanner said nothing. The humiliation of the past twelve hours still occupied his mind. None of the lads had said anything to him but there had been glances and knowing looks. Blackstone had made sure they'd heard about the rape charge. Peploe had come to his rescue, but Tanner was conscious that Blackstone had still partly achieved his goal. The men in the platoon would view him differently - warily, even. The trust he had won had been undermined, just as Blackstone had wanted.
They were halted in Neuville by 151st Brigade men and directed to an open area opposite the same massive French cemetery they had passed the day before. A battery of gunners was already there, vehicles and guns lined up ready to move. A brigade staff officer ordered them out of the trucks, while Captain Barclay and his two lieutenants were instructed to take the Krupp, wheel round and head back up the ridge to Petit Vimy where they were to liaise with Lieutenant-Colonel Beart, officer commanding, 8th Battalion, Durham Light Infantry.
Tanner watched them head off. Then, as the rest of the men were getting out of the back of the Opels, he heard the tell-tale thrum of aircraft and looked behind to see a dozen Stukas peeling off and diving down on the ridge. No bombs fell, but machine-guns chattered, the sound clear and sharp. Tanner saw Ellis and Denning flinch. He hoped Mr Peploe was all right.
'Christ, will you look at that?' muttered Sykes.
'They're bloody slow, though, aren't they?' said Tanner.
