CHAPTER 11
Bob was away for a few hours the next morning, and when he came back he was dragging a kitbag.

“Right, lads. There’s a lot been going on, so this is going to be a busy few days. Happen Ivan didn’t like the Jerries surrendering to us, and Jerry didn’t like to stop fighting Uncle Joe’s boys. They’ve sorted it now, but what we’ve got is a German government just outside Denmark. Being run by the bloke who was chief of the U-boats”

Bill spat, yet again. “Lovely company they keep, lads!”

Bob nodded. “Aye, so it is. Now, there’s all these Nazi chiefs and big nobs holed up there, and we are going to lift them before the Russians can get there. We’ve got a couple of troops of Honeys and some Daimlers, and I have scrounged these for us”

He tipped up the kit bag to reveal five helmets, the round ones issued to tank crews.

“Now, I know what I said…”

Ernie interrupted. “Aye, we remember. ‘Dump it, cut it off, throw it away, sleek as an otter gets you out before you burn!’”

Bob grinned. “You WERE listening, then! And there were me thinking you were having a bit of Egyptian P.T. Aye, I said all that, and I were right. We got out, didn’t we? Nothing to hang us up; no belts, no holsters, no tin lids. Remember that time Ginge shot that bastard in Belgium, and then couldn’t get out?”

A man arching his back in the snow, drumming his heels as his blood sprayed everything around him. The kick of the .45 in my hand. The ringing in my ears and the smell of cordite. Yes, I remembered. Bob was still talking.

“We will be pushing it on those autobahns, lads, and Ollie will bounce. That means you will, WILL, hit your heads. Nobody should be shooting at us, like, so we shouldn’t have to bail out, but I want everyone to arrive with the same amount of brains they left with. You’re excused, Bill”

Harry then spoke, for the first time in quite a while, I realised. “They got any gash boots anywhere, Bob?”

“Didn’t ask, Harry. Yours giving you gyp?”

Our driver looked bleak. “Not that, Bob. Just, well, they smell now. Can’t seem to get it out, somehow. Think I need to burn them”

He hadn’t been himself for days, had Harry. Whatever he had witnessed, whatever we had escaped, it had left a mark. He still came out with the jokes, just nowhere near as often, and I had noticed a sharper edge to his humour, a bleaker tone. There had been those three fresh and well-fed bodies at that camp. I really hoped those deaths had helped him get some demons out of his mind.

Mr Nolan was soon round.

“Mount up, boys. Bravo Eight will lead out for now, with the Yeomanry screening ahead. You will see large numbers of Jerries, and they are not to be fired on unless they are so incredibly stupid as to play games with us. The East Ridings will be behind you. It is about one hundred and eighty miles. If we can do that in a day, I will be rather gratified, but I suspect that will not in fact be possible. We shall do it as quick as we can, though. I have given my word, and I know I have your willingness and readiness for the task. REME will be with us, of course, and we have Pathé along for their own purposes. This one last push, and then we are going home. Do I have agreement?”

There was a shout of approval, but Harry muttered darkly “Still got bloody slitty-eyed bastards to fight, ain’t we?”

Didn’t I know it. It was a nightmare we all had, of finally getting through the slaughter in France and Belgium only to be packed off for Burma, or worse. Stick to what’s in hand for now, Gerald.

The Tiffies had finished on time, and for once we were treated to a real smile from Harry as he warmed up the engine. “Bloody hell, lads! Listen to her! Like bloody racing car!”

Bob grinned back. “Aye lad, but it were Jerry who started this race. In…Pole position”

We were still snorting at that one an hour later, as we finally set off up the incredible roads the Germans had built for themselves. God alone knows what speed Harry got up to, but Bob and I rode heads out, lids on and goggles down until I had a spasm of conscience.

“BOB!” I shouted over the roar.

“Aye?”

I pointed down into the turret. “Ernie’s turn!”

A truly gentle smile from him, as if to a favoured son who had just offered him something special, and a nod. I ducked down and gave the lad a prod, passing him my goggles. No words were said, just a quick lift of the eyebrows followed by a grin and a handshake. I tried to make myself comfortable in his little place, but the tank was jumping and vibrating fit to burst. An hour later, Ernie was back down, shouting at me. “You have to see this, Ginge!”

The German roads were really amazing things, with two separate roads for each route, each of two lanes with one road for traffic in each direction. These carriageways were separated by a wide central strip covered in grass, and after I struggled past Ernie I looked out to see field grey everywhere. German soldiers, still armed, were marching down the grass, what looked like ten abreast, and their column went on for miles. They didn’t exactly look happy, from what I could see, but they did look relieved. I prodded Bob.

“Ernie said I had to see this, and he were right!”

Bob laughed. “Not this!” he shouted. “Look behind!”

There were some Yank six-by-six wagons with us, carrying the East Riding boys, and those immediately behind us had doffed their tops, dropped their braces, and hung their naked backsides out over the side of the truck to face the Germans with a row of bare arses. Bob was chuckling happily, in the best mood I could remember.

“Bloody good job those Pathé boys aren’t here to film that!”

I felt a tug on my leg, and Ernie passed up his favourite bit of loot, a Leica. I duly recorded the events, as Harry later put it mordantly, for posterity.

In the end, we lost four tanks from Bravo Seven to mechanical failure, two of those being broken tracks, and it took us a day and a half. The terrain had got flatter and flatter the further north we went, but after we crossed a huge canal it started to get a little bit lumpier again. Mr Nolan had called us together again at that first night’s leaguer, and I was sure his sense of humour was getting as dark as Harry’s.

“Gentlemen, there are times when the reality of our daily life strives to outdo the works of our finest comedians. Jerry, in the form of Admiral Doenitz and General Jodl, has decided to, ahem, offer his services as a provisional government for what is now a defeated and occupied nation. All in the spirit of continuity and a steady hand at the tiller, it seems.”

“I hope he’s been told to fuck off, sir!”

“Thank you, Marshal, and I will take that entirely in the spirit in which you offered it. Jerry has indeed been told to fuck absolutely and completely off, and when we arrive we will be taking all of them into custody before a decision is made as to how exactly they are to fuck off. I anticipate a rope will be involved in most cases. This place is the last redoubt for their despicable little band, and that means that the civilians there are largely their families or other hangers-on. No fraternisation, gentlemen, none at all. You will remember Belsen, and understand what these vermin are and what they have done. It is delousing time for Flensburg. Oh yes: I do not believe they have been formally notified of our arrival. We start engines at first light. Any questions? Yes, Marshal?”

“Any chance of new kit catching up with us, sir? Need a change of boots”

The light was poor, but I am absolutely certain I caught the glint of a tear in our officer’s eye. His tone was gentle as he assured Harry he would do all he could to help, and I understood he wasn’t just talking about new boots. It wasn’t just our vehicles that were breaking down.

Off in the early dawn, and through the remnants of a town called Schleswig. It was a little hillier here, but it was gratifying to see that some attempt had been made to flatten things, probably by the RAF. Ollie was still running sweetly when we started out along a hog’s back ridge, which gave me the shivers at the thought of what well-sited AT guns would do to us, and then I had to look twice at one road sign still, bizarrely, in place. It read ‘Japland’ to my tired eyes, which brought back the thoughts of having to ship out again for somewhere hot and nasty, but it also read ‘Danmark’.

We pulled up at the top of a sloping road that led down to what was clearly the middle of the town, as the East Riding boys pushed through, and so we missed all the fun, but Mr Nolan was full of the tale later. All the nobs had turned out in their full fancy dress, all eagles and shiny boots, ready to discuss how they would ease a new administration into place, only to be marched off under arrest at bayonet point. It seemed we were going to miss all of the good bits.

That evening, sleeping in a billet in a house some Jerries had been moved out of, I heard the water running next door, and realised Harry was washing his hands again.