Blood of Honour

15

Captain Peploe broke the news shortly after midday on Wednesday, 28 May, having just returned from Battalion Headquarters. He had called Lieutenant McDonald, Tanner and Woodman into the office at Company HQ, poured four shots of brandy, then said, ‘It’s all over. I’m afraid we’re being evacuated tonight.’ He stood, his chipped shot glass in his hand, brows knotted.

Tanner slapped the wall. ‘I don’t bloody believe it!’ he said, his voice rising in anger. ‘We’ve barely even bloody tried here!’

‘It’s not us,’ said Peploe. ‘It’s the main force in the west, around Canea. The counter-attack at Galatas failed, they had to fall back and yesterday the C-in-C gave the order for them to withdraw to Sfakia.’

‘Where the bloody hell’s Sfakia?’ demanded Tanner.

‘On the south coast somewhere. Apparently there was little chance of the navy getting the boys out from Suda, so they’re crossing country.’

‘And now it’s our turn,’ said McDonald.

‘Well, we can’t very well stay here if the main force goes.’

‘So what’s the plan, sir?’ asked Woodman.

‘We tell the rest of the men at eight p.m. Secrecy is to be maintained – we don’t want Jerry getting wind of it until we’re safely away. A naval evacuation force will arrive tonight, at around eleven o’clock. We and the Black Watch are going to be the last to leave.’

‘Jesus, what a balls-up,’ muttered Tanner.

Peploe looked down at his glass. ‘Yes. A lot of wasted effort. A lot of wasted lives. Christ knows what the Greeks will think of us now – I’m afraid they’re being left here. We’ve told them there’s no room for them.’ There was silence in the room, except for a lone fly buzzing lazily. ‘Anyway,’ said Peploe, at length, and raised his glass, ‘there it is. Here’s to our safe return to Egypt, and as Old Man Vigar said, at least we can be proud of what we did here. The battalion – and B Company in particular – has done well. Very well.’

Fourteen hours later, Tanner and the rest of the men of the 2nd Battalion were milling around the inner harbour, awaiting their turn to be lifted. The news, when Peploe had told them earlier that evening, had been greeted with stunned silence, although Tanner, who had been watching Lieutenant Liddell, had noticed the expression on the subaltern’s face: eyes closed, a heavy breath – thank God – and then a glance up that had caught Tanner’s steely gaze. Liddell had quickly looked away.

In truth, the men had had time to get used to the idea and the prospect of improved rations, fresh supplies of kit and the inevitable leave in Cairo had lifted their spirits considerably. From the harbour walls they watched the two big cruisers, Orion and Dido, set sail, followed by three of the accompanying destroyers, all now crammed with troops. Along the mole extending out from the Venetian fort, men of the Black Watch were boarding two more destroyers; next, and finally, it would be the turn of the Yorks Rangers.

So far the evacuation had gone entirely to plan. The Germans did not appear to have realized what was going on. Guns had earlier been destroyed, and stores booby-trapped; the night had been quiet, barely a shot to be heard. The biggest noise had been the singing and shouting of some of the Australians, already drunk as they lined the mole. Around 2.15 a.m., as the Black Watch’s ship inched away from the outer harbour, two more destroyers sailed in to take its place.

The battalion was ordered to move down, past the fort and out onto the mole, with B, C and D Companies directed to board HMS Karachi, while Headquarters and A Companies were put onto HMS Kimberley. Once again, the men were directed onto the lower decks, except for 1 Platoon, whom Tanner volunteered to help with fire duties. It had been a self-interested decision: for once he felt in the mood for company and wanted Sykes nearby. He and Sykes watched as the brigadier and his staff boarded Kimberley.

‘I thought he was going to be good,’ said Tanner. ‘The way he hid those guns before the invasion – that was a canny move. But he damn well blew it here.’

‘D’you think he knows it?’

‘I really have no idea at all how these blokes work.’

By 2.45 a.m. the evacuation was complete. Not a single man remained on the harbour. Tanner, standing at the stern of the ship with Sykes, leaned on the railings smoking a cigarette and looking back at the town silhouetted against the night sky. He could not stop thinking about Alopex and how he had chided them during that first meeting in the cafe. Running away again. Bloody hell.

‘I know what you’re thinking, sir,’ said Sykes, ‘but you’ve got to forget about it. Maybe one day, when the war’s over, you can come back and give him a good kicking then.’

‘He was right, though, wasn’t he?’ He exhaled a cloud of smoke. ‘I’m absolutely bloody sick of sodding evacuations.’

‘So am I, but I can’t feel too sorry to be leaving. Not if I’m honest. I don’t think islands are my natural habitat. I feel too cooped up, penned in. And that bloody smell.’ He whistled. ‘You’ve got to admit it was bad walking down to the harbour.’ Little of the rubble had been cleared away since the bombing of the town. Those left trapped among the debris had soon begun to rot in the heat. Sewers had also been broken, and the combined stench of decomposing flesh and sewage had been overpowering. Most of the men had marched through the town with handkerchiefs around their faces.

‘It was a bit ripe,’ agreed Tanner.

Sykes breathed in deeply. ‘Sea air – that’s better.’

‘But I still feel bloody terrible about leaving those poor bastards. It was a half-decent place when we got here, but now …’ He let the sentence trail.

‘And they’ve got the Jerries to deal with.’

Tanner saw the ropes being cast off from the other destroyer with Headquarters and A Companies on board. Moments later, it began moving away from the mole.

‘Why aren’t we moving?’ Sykes asked.

‘God knows,’ said Tanner. He looked around and saw that some of the crew seemed restless, then noticed a caique leave the inner harbour and chug past them slowly. He wondered who it was, and took out his binoculars for a better look, but it was too dark to pick out any of the features on the men’s faces. He watched it leave the harbour, its masts silhouetted against the sky.

The minutes passed but still there was no sign of any movement. Peploe appeared beside them. ‘We should be off soon,’ he said.

‘What’s going on, sir?’

‘It seems they were attacked as they left Alexandria. They would have had another cruiser, but it was hit and had to turn back. A couple of the destroyers also suffered near misses, including this one. There’s something up with one of the engines – I’m not quite sure what – and they’ve decided to try and fix it.’

Tanner looked at his watch again. It was now a quarter past three. ‘Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t they? It’ll be first light in just over an hour.’

‘I said the same to the lieutenant I’ve just been talking to. Apparently they very nearly put us onto Kimberley, but they reckoned that whatever the problem was could be quickly resolved so didn’t in the end. Only now, of course, it’s taking longer than they thought.’

Suddenly, out at sea, away to the north-east, they heard a dull boom.

‘What was that?’ said Sykes. ‘A mine? Or a torpedo?’

‘I wouldn’t like to say,’ said Peploe. ‘Let me try and find out.’

He returned a short while later. ‘It was Imperial,’ he said. ‘The other ship damaged coming from Alexandria. Her steering gear had jammed so they had to get everyone off, then torpedoed her.’

‘That’s a comfort,’ said Tanner. ‘Bloody hell.’

As the minutes continued to pass with no apparent sign of any movement, Tanner began to feel increasingly agitated. He was not alone – as he and Sykes discovered, as they impatiently moved around the stern.

‘Hope you lads have still got some ammo left,’ said one of the Y Gun crew.

‘I hope your aim’s good, mate,’ Sykes replied.

‘Jesus,’ said another in the gun crew. ‘What a sodding dog’s breakfast. The others’ll be halfway back to