Blood of Honour

‘Where are we heading, Jack?’ Sykes asked.

Ahead of them, just off the road, stood a house surrounded by a garden filled with plane trees, palms and shrubs. ‘There,’ said Tanner, pointing. ‘It’s the villa Pendlebury used to live in before the war.’

‘Very nice too,’ whispered Sykes. ‘But what are we looking for?’

‘I’ll show you in a minute.’

Passing through a series of vineyards, they reached the rear of the grounds of the house. Tanner paused and listened. The place seemed quiet. Both Knossos and the villa lay in no man’s land – too far south to be of use to the British and not yet discovered by the newly arrived Germans. There was no sound coming from the ridge to their right either. Good, thought Tanner. The lads are still all right.

‘What a place,’ whispered Sykes. ‘Not a bad little basha if you ask me. But, Jack, what’s here?’

‘Stop jabbering, Stan, and I’ll show you.’

Shadows from the protective canopy of the trees streaked across the villa, giving it a cold, deserted appearance. Insects whistled and clicked but the air felt suddenly close, every sound accentuated. Tanner led Sykes around the front of the house, past the steps that led up to its entrance and around to the side, where, tucked away, hidden by trees and bushes, there was a shed.

‘Here,’ said Tanner.

‘It’s a shed, Jack.’

‘It’s a lock-up of Pendlebury’s. A secret arms stash. Heavily padlocked, as you can see, but I’m assuming nothing that would trouble you, Stan.’

Sykes grinned, then delved into his pack and brought out a set of short metal wires. Leaning against the door, he inserted one into the keyhole, manoeuvred it carefully and grinned as the padlock opened with a click.

‘Stan, you’re a genius,’ said Tanner. The door creaked, the sound making him wince. Inside, he took out his torch, a small rectangular German one, carefully placed a blue perspex lens over the light and switched it on.

At the far end of the shed, a tarpaulin covered a mound. Tanner pulled it back to reveal a number of wooden boxes, perhaps a dozen in all. The top two were a little over a foot long and about eight inches wide, painted green and with ‘14 SLABS DEMOLITION TNT MK 1’ stencilled on the side. ‘Now you’re talking.’ Sykes grinned, moving the box onto the floor. ‘Shine the torch a sec, Jack. I want to see what else we’ve got here.’ He moved a couple more boxes, then said, ‘Eureka!’ He pulled out a metal tin, slightly larger than the boxes, and furiously opened it. ‘Recognize these beauties?’ he said, pulling out a smaller tin.

Tanner grinned. ‘Pull switches, Stan.’

‘Too bloody right.’ He tugged out another, smaller wooden box, which was filled with reels of fuse and tins of detonators. ‘Blimey,’ he said, ‘this is a regular bloody Aladdin’s cave!’

‘You know I always try to keep you happy, Stan.’

‘But we can’t carry this lot,’ said Sykes, standing up and looking thoughtful.

‘Take what we can now – enough to have some fun tonight, at any rate, and perhaps we can come back here tomorrow.’

‘But who’s it all for?’

‘Pendlebury’s Cretan andartes, but it is ours. This is British stuff. And I can’t see them using it. After all, how are they going to get to it?’

Suddenly, behind them, the door swung open. Tanner and Sykes froze.

‘Like this,’ said a voice, in heavily accented English. ‘Two thieves caught red-handed.’

‘You!’ hissed Tanner. ‘What the bloody hell are you doing here?’

14

Alopex stood framed in the doorway, two of his andartes behind him. ‘We have come to check on our supplies – supplies we will need when you have run away again.’

‘I’m not going bloody anywhere.’

‘I hope not. We still have a score to settle. Two scores to settle now. You let Pendlebury get killed.’

‘He got himself killed with that hare-brained plan of his,’ growled Tanner. ‘As you know full bloody well. You should have persuaded him to go with you.’ Tanner shone his torch in Alopex’s face. ‘You had no problems getting through, then? Or have you been skulking here ever since?’

Alopex laughed, then lunged forward and flung a fist into Tanner’s stomach. He doubled up, gasped, and staggered backwards.

‘Hey, hey, easy, mate!’ said Sykes, moving between them.

‘Listen, you son of a whore,’ hissed Alopex, spitting at Tanner. ‘We came back down from the mountains, as we have been doing every night – killing Germans. I had some business to see to in town – and I was not stopped once, not on the way in or back out again. Your men are by the Jesus Bastion, I seem to remember.’

Tanner, recovering his breath, clenched his fists.

‘Easy, Jack,’ said Sykes, then turned back to Alopex. ‘Listen, mate, you’ve got a whole load of explosives here. Do you lot know how to use ’em?’

Alopex glared at him.

‘Only I do,’ said Sykes. ‘Me and Tanner here, we’ve blown up a lot of Jerries since this war began and we’re fully intending to blow up some more. Let us take a few bits and pieces and, trust us, we’ll make good use of them.’

Alopex eyed him suspiciously. ‘What will you do?’

‘I haven’t exactly worked it out, but we’ve got here fuse, explosives and pull switches, an’ that means we can make some booby traps, see? There are some wells up there and old sheds and that, the kind of places Jerry’s going to make a beeline for. We go up there now and arrange a few trip wires for them, and then when they’re looking for shelter or a little drink to ease their thirst, they get a nasty shock instead. See?’ He put two tins of pull switches into the deep inside pockets of his battle blouse.

Alopex thought for a moment. ‘All right. But we’ll come with you.’

‘And you and Tanner will stop trying to kill each other?’

Alopex laughed. ‘For tonight, yes.’

‘Sir?’ said Sykes, turning to Tanner.

Tanner glared at Alopex. He was about to speak, to warn him never to lay another finger on him, but then he saw Sykes shake his head. He took a deep breath, pulled out his bayonet and yanked open a box of explosives.

‘You should listen to your friend more often,’ said Alopex.

‘Says the man with the biggest gob in Crete. Just shut up, Alopex, and let’s get on with it.’

They took a box load of TNT between them, fourteen one-pound rectangular blocks, wrapped in foil and covered with light yellow paper, along with tins of both safety and instantaneous fuse.

‘There are a lot of Germans maybe five hundred metres ahead,’ said Alopex. ‘There is an old river escarpment they are sheltering behind. But there are others closer to hand.’

As they made their way through a vineyard, the ground rose gently. Suddenly it dropped away into the valley beyond Knossos. Alopex stopped them and pointed out two buildings, silhouetted darkly against the faint glow of the sky. ‘The house over there is deserted, abandoned,’ he said. ‘The other is a store. It has a well beside it.’

Just then they heard a wounded paratrooper cry out nearby. ‘Helfen Sie mir!’ came the desperate plea. ‘Helfen Sie mir!’

‘Poor bugger,’ said Sykes. ‘I almost feel sorry for him.’

Alopex glanced at him, then hurried forward with his two andartes. Sykes and Tanner followed. They soon found the German. He had cut free his parachute, but had clearly broken a leg or ankle on landing. He looked up at the men now around him, eyes wide with fear. Alopex crouched over him and pulled out a knife.

‘Nein, nein!’ cried the man. ‘Bitte …’

Alopex grabbed the man by his collar, yanked him up and thrust the knife into his side. The man gasped, then Alopex dropped him, and glared again at Sykes.