Blood of Honour

10

It was a hot day. So hot, in fact, that the men manning the walls had begun taking off their tin helmets; the steel had become too hot to touch, let alone wear. Better to risk an exposed head than fry one’s brain. A sickly stench had also begun to waft across the walls. Second Lieutenant Guy Liddell knew the smell – it reminded him of one summer when a rotting deer had reeked for days from its death-bed in the woods, a cloying, nauseous stench that seemed to get into one’s hair and clothes. Except, of course, that the smell was no deer, but men who just a day earlier had been living and breathing but who were now dead and, it seemed, abandoned, missed by the burial parties, their bloating corpses left to bake and rot in the May sun.

It could have been me, thought Liddell, as he looked out from the walls towards the endless lush groves, fields and trees, bursting with life and framed by the mountains beyond. A vision of beauty, but to Liddell this place was hell. Homesickness welled within him, his sense of entrapment overwhelming. He was hungry and thirsty, yet that smell made him feel sick, so that the last thing he wanted was food. Images from the fighting the previous night kept filling his mind: limbless men, the sound of bullets whistling over his head, the fear he had felt. Christ, he had even pissed himself – the only consolation had been that, at night, no one had noticed. He had poured water over his crotch and by dawn his shorts had dried, but the thought that he was still walking around in clothes soiled by dried urine disgusted him.

Liddell swallowed hard.

‘Are you all right, sir?’ Sykes asked.

‘Yes, yes, fine, thank you, Sergeant.’ I need some shade. ‘But I’m just going to go down to the, um, street. To get some … water. You carry on, Sergeant.’

Sykes smiled and nodded, and Liddell hurried away, across the gate and into the bastion, its dark coolness instantly refreshing. Back out on the street, he stepped around the corner from the bastion entrance and out under the great arch of the gate. Protected by its shade, he paused, drank from his water bottle, then quickly filled and lit his pipe, the sweet aroma of the tobacco going some way to hide the stench of death. He thought about Tanner who, like Sykes, was now swaggering about in German boots, with a German Schmeisser slung across his back, as though he were some kind of ancient warrior parading his battle prizes. He realized now that he had been wrong to stop him plundering those men the previous afternoon, but it was humiliating to see the pair flaunting their new- found possessions, as though they were deliberately trying to rub his nose in it.

Liddell closed his eyes, leaned back against the stonework, and breathed in the delicious smell of tobacco. He still planned to confront Tanner, but so far there had not been the opportunity, not with the battle the previous night, and this morning he had only ever seen him from afar. On the two occasions he had made towards him, Tanner had somehow disappeared by the time he had got there.

But now there Tanner was, walking towards him from beyond the gate. Liddell’s heart quickened. It was strange: he had been thinking about it and now the perfect opportunity had presented itself.

Tanner saluted lazily as he reached the edge of the archway.

‘I was just getting a moment’s shade,’ said Liddell, then hastily added, ‘And where have you been?’

‘Just to get a look at the lie of the land, sir.’ Tanner, too, had taken off his helmet. Beads of sweat pricked his brow, and dark patches stained his shirt. He began to walk on past, but Liddell stopped him.

‘There’s something I want to say to you.’

Tanner faced him, but at that moment, there was the sound of a vehicle approaching from the town, something so rare on the island that they both immediately turned before Liddell could say any more. They heard the grinding of gears, a burst on the throttle and Pendlebury’s pick-up turned the corner. Tanner stepped to one side, but the truck halted beside him.

‘Afternoon, Tanner,’ said Pendlebury.

‘Off somewhere nice, sir?’ Tanner glanced across at Satanas and Alopex in the front beside him. Sitting in the back were four andartes. Pendlebury was wearing Cretan dress. ‘I hope you’re not intending to drive too far in this, sir. Lots of Jerries up ahead.’

‘We’re heading to the mountains,’ said Pendlebury. ‘I’m afraid I can’t persuade the good brigadier to counter-attack from here.’

‘So, you’re planning to do it yourself?’

‘In a nutshell, yes.’

‘One fight last night was enough for you boys, eh?’ chuckled Alopex.

‘No, no,’ said Tanner, his voice calm. ‘I’m with you. A counter-attack is what we should be doing. Dusk or dawn is the best time, though, I reckon.’

Liddell moved beside him. ‘Can we help you, sir?’ he said.

‘Just what are you proposing to do, sir?’ cut in Tanner.

‘Trying to get away before I’m arrested again,’ said Alopex. He began to laugh.

Pendlebury turned off the ignition. ‘Satanas and Alopex are going to take the car, head south and up to Krousonas, and I’m going to jump out shortly and cut through to the west.’

‘But the Germans are all up ahead, sir. With respect, it’s madness to try and cross their positions.’

‘Tanner,’ snapped Liddell, ‘remember who you’re talking to.’

Pendlebury raised a hand. ‘It’s all right, Lieutenant.’ He turned to Tanner. ‘I’ll be quite all right. I know how to slip through. It’s a question of time, Tanner, and we haven’t got much of it.’

Tanner looked at Alopex and Satanas, who stared back at him, dark eyes unblinking. ‘Sir,’ said Tanner. ‘This is madness. Please, if you must go, do so with Satanas and Alopex. There are few Jerries to the south. You’ll have a chance that way.’

‘No time,’ smiled Pendlebury. ‘We need to attack tonight, while the Huns are still off balance.’

A thought now occurred to Liddell – one that could win him respect and show his authority. ‘Maybe you could take some men and escort him, CSM,’ he suggested.

‘Maybe you could,’ agreed Alopex.

‘And then we all get killed instead of just Captain Pendlebury?’

‘Of course, if you’re scared …’ said Alopex.

Tanner glared at him, but Pendlebury cut in, ‘I don’t need an escort. I’ll be able to slip through on my own. Don’t forget, I know this place a lot better than they do.’

‘Excuse me a moment, sir,’ said Liddell. ‘Let me have a quick word with Tanner.’

‘We need to get going, Lieutenant.’

‘Just a brief moment, sir.’ Moving away from the car, he now spoke to Tanner in a low voice: ‘You were all for going out on a patrol yesterday.’

‘The situation was completely different,’ said Tanner, exasperation in his voice. ‘They’d just landed then, and we could easily work in around the back of them. Patrolling forward when they have outposts trained on us is a completely different matter. And look at him – he’s a bloody archaeologist, not a soldier. Christ, he’s only got one eye, and he’s expecting to hoodwink all those para boys, some of the best-trained troops in the whole Jerry army.’

Liddell thought a moment, then said, ‘Look, I think you should know something. I’ve deliberately kept quiet about your past, but I do know what happened.’ He eyed Tanner and immediately saw the flicker of alarm in the CSM’s eyes.

‘What’s that got to do with this?’ Tanner snapped.

‘I’ve suggested we escort Captain Pendlebury. I don’t want you showing me up.’

Tanner stared at him.

‘Is that clear?’

Tanner glared at him a moment longer, then turned back to the car. ‘Sir, give me five minutes, and I’ll get some men together. We’ll come with you. Lieutenant Liddell is right. We can create a diversion.’

Pendlebury glanced at Satanas and Alopex.

‘It is a good idea,’ said Alopex. ‘You should accept the offer.’

Pendlebury stepped out of the car. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘And thank you.’

As they hurried back from the arch, Tanner clenched his fists, an intense anger welling within him. Rarely had he so wanted to knock a man cold as he did Mr Liddell right now. Perhaps the man was bluffing, but that was hardly