Dave Dawson with the Commandos - Part 17
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Part 17

"Atta boy!" Dave murmured, and squeezed Freddy's arm. "But for cat's sake, let's first get this cork black off our faces and hands. It won't help us now. And when I think of that n.a.z.i snapping that light in my face--Boy! I died a thousand deaths in that split second. That's enough for one night. We play strictly Jerry officers from now on. And Jerry officers don't go wandering around with cork black all over them. So let's get it off."

Five minutes later both youths had removed every trace of the cork black with their handkerchiefs and some water from the small canteen fitted to their German army belts. They stood up and studied Dave's compa.s.s with its radium-painted needle.

"North and bear a bit left," Dave said, and slipped the compa.s.s into his pocket. "We're a good half mile from the sh.e.l.led church. So we can't be more than a mile from the edge of Evaux where the H.Q. is located. Well, I guess there's nothing to do but get started."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

_Vulture Nest_

Dave Dawson stole a glance at his watch and saw that there was little more than an hour and a half until daylight. An hour and a half in which to accomplish something which, if things had only gone as planned, should have been cleaned up a good two hours before! He clamped his lips tight to choke back the bitter groan that rose up in his throat, and peered out from behind the thick clump of bushes at the scene that lay before him.

He was hugging the ground on the south side of a small yet billiard table flat field. On the other side, and not two hundred yards from where he lay, was a group of small buildings which marked the beginning of the outskirts of the French village of Evaux. In front of the group of small buildings were half a dozen German Staff cars, motorcycles, a couple of armored cars, and a hundred or more Germans of all sizes and ranks. Busy bee activity was in progress, too. Cars were rushing up a road that led out of some woods, to brake scream to a halt in front of the buildings, where the occupants would leap out and go dashing inside.

A dispatch rider would come tearing up on his motorcycle, and practically throw himself from it in his haste to get inside with his dispatches. And twice an Arado army cooperation plane slid down to a landing on the small flat field, and quickly taxied over to join the general hubbub.

For thirty minutes, now, Freddy and he had been hugging the ground out of sight of prying eyes and silently studying the layout before them.

And their thoughts were far from happy ones. Somewhere over on the other side of the field, in one of the buildings--and they had a pretty fair idea which one it was--Field Marshal von Staube and Luftwaffe Marshal von Gault were receiving reports at the rate of about one every five minutes on the progress of the United Nations Commando raid on the Le Havre area. How that raid was making out, neither Dave nor Freddy could tell. They could hear the distant roar of coastal batteries, the crash of exploding bombs, and the terrific thunder of ammo dumps blowing up.

And every once in a while they caught the echo of savage fighting in the air. But what had been accomplished, and what hadn't been accomplished, were two things beyond their knowledge at the moment.

"Thought up any plan yet, Dave?"

Freddy's quietly spoken question caused Dave to start a little. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, and then shook his head.

"Not even close to an idea!" he grated. "At least not one that would give us even a Chinaman's chance. How about you?"

"Mind a blasted blank!" the English youth sighed. "Getting von Staube and von Gault away from that crowd over there would be as easy as getting Hitler out of his precious Berlin bomb shelter during an R.A.F.

raid. I haven't even seen either of them poke their noses outside yet.

And blast it! It'll be daylight soon."

Dave nodded soberly, turned slightly and stared toward the east. He was not looking for the dawn, however. He was looking at the very first thing he had noticed when Freddy and he had arrived at the edge of this field. It was the Dornier Do. Seventeen light bomber resting peacefully on the edge of the east side of the field. There were a couple of Messerschmitt One-Tens, and a single One-Nine, too, but Dave hardly gave them a glance. He stared longingly at the Dornier, and his pounding heart wept bitter tears.

If only Jones had not met his Fate! If only the man had lived, and been able to play his part in this life and death, victory and defeat struggle. If only--But what was the use of thinking about what might have been? The key man was gone. The one main link to success was gone.

Whether they won out or failed depended solely upon Freddy Farmer and himself. But what could Freddy and he do now? What possible chance did they have against such overwhelming odds? How in the world could they be expected to perform the absolutely impossible? They were only human.

They weren't miracle men who could simply snap their fingers, and, _presto_, magic was done. They--

For an instant his eyes strayed to one of the Messerschmitt One-Tens.

There was an avenue of escape for Freddy and himself. Just a couple of guards watching over those planes over there. They could be taken care of in short order, and Freddy and he could get one of those One-Tens in the air and be on their way back to England before the others realized what was taking place. Sure they could! And they could explain to Major Barber how they'd found Jones dead, how they had been chased all night by n.a.z.i soldiers, and how it would have simply been asking for certain death to attempt to kidnap von Staube and von Gault under such impossible circ.u.mstances. Darned right! They'd tell Major Barber--

Dave clamped down hard on his whirling thoughts, and his whole body grew hot with shame. A fine soldier he was! Just about as much courage as a new born rabbit. Just a quitter. Afraid he might get hurt? Afraid he might get killed? My, my, what a pity! Well, never mind. Just go on home, and Major Barber would pat him sympathetically on the back, and say not to worry, and that it was really too much to have asked of any man. Yes, yes. Just go to sleep, my little man. And sweet dreams! Maybe some day somebody else will grab von Staube and von Gault, and then everything will be just dandy!

"Dave! What in the world's the matter with you? Your face is as red as a beet! Don't you feel all right?"

Freddy Farmer's anxious words snapped Dave out of his bitter reverie. He stopped looking at the Messerschmitts and met his pal's gaze.

"Just learning how a guy can get to hate himself," he said evenly. "But skip it. I don't want to talk about it. Freddy?"

"Yes, Dave?"

The Yank-born air ace hesitated and stared for a moment over toward the other side of the field.

"When a fellow can't figure out a plan," he presently said slowly, "the only thing to do is to wade in swinging with both hands, and hope that some kind of a plan will pop up. You agree with that?"

"Quite," the English youth said evenly. "Fact is, I was just going to say that I think it's a bit too late, now, to bother about thinking up a plan. I think we should simply go on over there, and--well, trust to luck, I guess, that we'll meet up with a bit of luck. Maybe it's silly, and stupid, and--"

Freddy paused and shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

"It is all of that," Dave said, and absently wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. "But that's how it is. Me, I'm sick of playing Indians and cowboys, crawling around in the dark, and getting no place. I'm for barging right into the business. And if we get caught on the wrong end of a gun, then--then that'll be that."

"Let's stroll around the west side of the field," Freddy said, and started to get up onto his feet. "A chance those guards by the planes might get a bit curious, you know. I've noticed that none of the others have gone near them."

"Strictly for Staff use, is my guess," Dave grunted as he got up too.

"Just in case something pops around here, von Staube and von Gault are making sure they'll get out fast. Makes n.a.z.i generals sore as the d.i.c.kens to get killed, you know. Can't strut any more, or order women and children hostages shot, or have any kind of fun. They--Jeepers! Holy smokes! That's an idea!"

"What?" Freddy demanded. "Shooting women and children hostages, and--"

"No, heck no!" Dave shot at him as they moved along toward the west side of the field. "Just had a sudden idea. But I've got to mull over it a little before it would make sense. And speaking of sense, good sense--"

"Is there a place for that sort of thing, now?" Freddy asked in a bitter voice.

"Darned right there is!" Dave said. "Let's use our heads before we lose them. Beginning with now, pal, we don't know a word of the English language. We talk strictly German from here in. Right?"

"Absolutely!" Freddy gasped. "Stupid of us, of course. Right you are, _mein Herr_! German it shall be."

The two air aces lapsed into thoughtful silence, and walked along the edge of the small field, and around the west side toward the cl.u.s.ter of Headquarters buildings. With every step he took Dave's heart was up in his throat, and pounding furiously. They were beginning to meet German soldiers and officers now, and he was filled with the gnawing fear that they would be stopped and challenged. After all, even the boastful, c.o.c.ksure n.a.z.is don't allow everybody to wander about an H.Q. location.

It so happened, though, that they were not challenged once. Those they met either believed they had a perfect right to be strolling along, or else they were too busy with their own thoughts to notice them. Anyway, they were able to keep right on going, and eventually were part of a group of Germans gathered in front of the center building in the cl.u.s.ter. They stood close together and listened intently to the flow of excited conversation. And what they heard brought happiness to their aching hearts, and made them thrill with pride clear down to the soles of their boots. Obviously the United Nations Commando attack was going very badly for the n.a.z.is. Practically all of Le Havre was in Commando hands. n.a.z.i fortifications there, U-boat repair docks, and stores of n.a.z.i military equipment had been blown sky high. And the Commandos were spreading out to the north, south, and east like the unleashed waters of a flood tide. In addition n.a.z.i air strength had been more or less bottled up and securely corked. Those cursed American bombers! Flying Fortresses, they were called. Nothing seemed able to shoot them out of the air! And their bombs? Something terrible!

It went on and on like that. And Dave and Freddy had all they could do to force grave, worried looks to their faces, when instead they wanted to dance and shout with joy. But though the group of n.a.z.is were worried, and plenty, over the way things were going, they still had that blind dog-like faith in their high ranking officers. From a score of lips Dave and Freddy heard statements that the enemy gains were only temporary at the most. That von Staube and von Gault were simply biding their time, and would strike their counter blows soon. Yes, von Staube had called up powerful reenforcements. They were now on the way to the zone of battle.

And von Gault was ma.s.sing powerful air squadrons, all types. _Ja, ja!_ Germany's swine enemies were fools to believe that _Der Fuehrer_ had sent most of Germany's air power to the Russian front. The cursed United Nations forces would soon realize that, as German bombs blew them clear out into the Channel. But of course! Ah! Look! Here comes another courier plane. It is probably good news this time! Yes! See how fast he lands! He must have good news this time, and be eager to report it.

Dave and Freddy watched with the others as another Arado plane came streaking down to a fast landing, and taxied up close at quite a bit of throttle. A figure leaped from the rear c.o.c.kpit and went dashing in through the door of the center building. Dave and Freddy crowded over to the door with the others. Unfortunately, though, it was slammed shut in their faces. The Germans outside looked sheepishly at each other and moved away a little. Dave and Freddy played their part in the general scene and started to edge around to a point where they might get a quick look in through one of the side windows of the building. After all, they didn't know _for sure_ that von Staube and von Gault were inside. They were actually only a.s.suming; taking it for granted that such was the case.

And so, as though by unspoken but mutual agreement, they began to edge away from the general throng and round to the side of the building. But they had barely reached the corner when suddenly a wicked-looking n.a.z.i Major loomed up before them to bar the way. Dave's heart skipped a beat, and when he took a good look at the German his heart skipped a couple of more beats and started sliding down in the general direction of his boots. The n.a.z.i, by the insignia on his tunic, belonged to the same regiment that Dave and Freddy were supposed to belong to. Was there any reason why a Major shouldn't be able to recognize two of his junior officers? There was none, of course. And Dave felt as though he were staring certain death right in the face.

"What are you two doing here?" The words came out like pistol shots.

"Did _Herr_ Colonel send you? A message for me, perhaps? I am needed back there? I don't know you, so you must be two of those new officers they sent us yesterday. Your names?"

"_Ober-Leutnants_ Kloss and Mueller, Herr Major," Dave heard his voice say. Then wildly grasping at a straw of hope, he went on, "That is true, sir. _Herr_ Colonel sent us with his compliments. He wishes that you return as fast as possible."

The n.a.z.i Major scowled and looked terribly angry, and for a long second the whole world seemed to stand dead still for Dave. He felt as if he were walking along a tightrope over a yawning chasm. Only there wasn't any tightrope there. Somebody had yanked it away, and he was simply hovering in mid-air before he went crashing down to his doom. The very next words that came from the n.a.z.i Major's lips might well spell doom for Freddy and for himself. If the n.a.z.i asked questions they couldn't answer--if--

"Very well!" The words were suddenly barked out. "I will do as the Colonel wishes. You two remain here, however. Take this report and see that it is delivered to Field Marshal von Staube the instant he is free to see you. He knows that I am waiting. You will explain that I was needed at the regiment's Headquarters. Simply give him the report, and then return to your posts as fast as possible. This is not a leave you are on, you know. Well? Did they not teach you to salute your superiors at that officer's school? They are sending us mere _children_ these days!"

The Major had jerked a sealed envelope from his tunic pocket, thrust it into Dave's hands, and was standing there glaring at them both. With a tremendous effort Dave and Freddy snapped out of it, clicked their heels, and almost tore their arms off saluting. The n.a.z.i grunted, glared some more, and then went strutting off bellowing a name. The name of his chauffeur, probably.