Blood of Honour

5th Brigade, and sent the Germans packing.

Perhaps it was still not too late, but to mass his forces now in one big counter-attack was fraught with danger. If it failed, it would be the end of the New Zealand Division. He was the country’s most senior commander, and the division New Zealand’s biggest contribution to the land war. If it was wiped out, the repercussions would be far-reaching. Freyberg had seen enough blood in the Great War to last him a lifetime and more; he knew how much the country mourned the loss of so many of her young men. He did not want to go down in history as a butcher. I am not confident enough of success, he told himself. There, he had admitted it. Yet lack of confidence had never plagued him as a younger man.

He pushed himself back up onto his feet, and continued up the hill to the signals station, a small bunker lined with sandbags, whose radio mast stuck up high into the air.

‘Evening, sir,’ said Captain Sandford, as Freyberg appeared at the steps.

‘Sandford, I need some good news. Have you any for me?’

Already, from Sandford’s grim expression, he knew he could expect little.

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ said Sandford. ‘Another caique and an enemy steamer, but a second enemy invasion force was not intercepted due to shortage of ammunition. And I’m afraid the Mediterranean Fleet has taken a pounding today. Too many ships are within range of enemy aircraft.’

‘Oh, God,’ muttered Freyberg.

‘Two cruisers sunk, sir.’

‘No! Which ones?’

‘Fiji and Gloucester, sir. A destroyer, Warspite and Valiant damaged, along with a number of other destroyers. It’s been a bad day. I’m sorry, sir.’

Freyberg sighed. ‘No – thank you, Sandford. One must face up to these things.’ He turned and left. So that’s it, then. His decision had been made. It meant the island would most likely now be lost, but lives would, he hoped, be saved.

Reaching the quarry once more, he found Brigadier Stewart. ‘Keith, I’ve made a decision,’ he said.

‘Sir?’

‘We’re going to abandon Maleme. I want you to issue orders for a general withdrawal to Galatas.’

His chief of staff looked at him keenly, then placed both hands on the trestle table in front of him. ‘If we withdraw, General, Jerry will be able to bring in supplies almost at will. His build-up of forces will become so great we’ll be unable to hold him. We’ll lose the island.’

‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Freyberg snapped. ‘Christ, man, do you think I haven’t thought of it?’ Then, in a quieter voice, he added, ‘Keith, I don’t like it any more than you. But at least most of the men might live to fight another day.’

By morning, German paratroopers from Prison Valley had linked up with mountain troops from Maleme. Little did those at Heraklion know it, but in just three days, Crete’s fate had been sealed.

13

Saturday, 24 May, a little after 9 p.m. Captain Alex Vaughan walked back through the quiet streets of Heraklion after a fruitless visit to Brigade Headquarters. Here and there he saw signs of bomb damage, particularly the closer he got to the harbour – one shattered house had spewed rubble and blocks of stone almost right across the street. At last he reached the entrance to the house he had shared with Pendlebury since 50 Middle East Commando had returned to Egypt: a short flight of steps leading to a wooden doorway in a wall, and through into a small courtyard, across which stood the house. He was tired, frustrated, and not a little disturbed by what he had encountered at HQ.

News from Canea was not good, but instead of instilling some fight into 14th Brigade, it seemed that the rapidly unravelling situation in the north-west of the island was making Brigadier Chappel even more determined to sit tight rather than take the attack to the enemy. A stalemate had developed, but Vaughan feared this would not last long. Several hundred more Jerry paratroopers had landed to the south earlier that day. Perhaps more would arrive tomorrow, along with more supplies, more arms, more ammunition. On the other hand their own supplies were slowly being drained away. Jesus, it didn’t take a genius to work out which way the balance was shifting.

Crossing the courtyard, he was surprised to see a light on in Pendlebury’s office and that the front door was ajar. Taking out his revolver, he went to it and carefully pushed it open. Slipping soundlessly into the hallway, he stood by the door to the office, his pistol cocked, listening. He waited a moment, then kicked back the door and stepped into the room, his revolver at the ready.

‘I surrender,’ chuckled Alopex, holding up his arms. He was sitting in one of the armchairs, just as he had three days earlier before leaving the town.

‘Alopex!’ exclaimed Vaughan. ‘How did you get here?’

‘It’s easy enough at dusk when you know the way.’ He raised a small glass. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I helped myself to a little raki.’

Vaughan put down his revolver, went to the small sideboard and poured himself a shot. Then, sitting at Pendlebury’s desk, he raised his glass. ‘It’s very good to see you alive and well.’

‘We’re all mourning Pendlebury,’ said Alopex.

‘So you heard?’

‘Executed by the Nazis.’

‘Not executed exactly – he was killed in a fire-fight trying to cross the lines. I told the bloody fool not to do it.’

‘No, that’s not what happened,’ said Alopex.

‘What do you mean?’

‘He was shot then, but not killed. They took him away – he would have lived. They interrogated him, but when he told them nothing, they shot him.’

Vaughan stared at Alopex. ‘But how on earth do you know this?’

‘They took him to the house of an old couple down in the valley. After Pendlebury was murdered the Germans left the house and the man and woman fled to the mountains. They heard it all and saw the Germans bury him. Tossed him into a shallow pit as though he were a dog.’ He spat the words.

Vaughan put his head in his hands. ‘Poor John,’ he said.

Alopex lit a small cheroot. ‘So, what can I say? We have been attacking the enemy every night, but still the British stay put.’

‘Believe me, if I was commanding here, that would not be the case.’ Vaughan stood up and went to the sideboard, took the bottle of raki and poured them both another shot. ‘So why are you here?’

‘Satanas asked me to come. He is seeing Hanford tonight. There are rumours about the fighting in the west of the island – that the British are falling back. Satanas thinks that if you are defeated in the west, you will have to leave Heraklion and Rethymno too. He thinks you will abandon us, just as you did on the mainland. And in France and Norway.’ He smiled without humour. ‘I know you and Pendlebury have tried to get us as many arms as possible, but it is not enough. We will fight on – of course we will – but if you leave, we want your weapons.’

‘What can I do, though? I am not the commander here. A captain doesn’t count for much, you know.’

‘You can talk to the brigadier.’

Vaughan nodded. ‘I’ll do what I can. But I can’t do that unless we get the order to evacuate.’

‘You can start sowing the seed.’

‘Yes. Yes, that’s true.’ He leaned forward, hands together, thinking. The room was bathed in a dim orange light. Sitting across from him, Alopex’s features were in shadow, but there was no denying the menacing impression he gave: the thick moustache and twoday growth of beard, the knitted heavy eyebrows and dark eyes that stared hard at him. Around his waist were two bandoliers, while a rifle rested across his lap.

‘And there’s another thing,’ said Alopex. ‘The stores here in Heraklion that we brought from Suda Island. They are still safe?’

‘Yes.’