A Kingdom Falls by John Owen Theobald

Author:John Owen Theobald [Owen Theobald, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781784974411
Publisher: Head of Zeus

20

TIMOTHY SQUIRE

3 August 1944

We have not eaten in twenty-four hours. We move faster than ever, and sleep even less. It is obvious the Germans are gaining on us, the bastards.

We pass a farm, which has been doused in petrol and burned. The bodies of the farmer and his family lie sprawled in the dirt. The Nazis forbid the burying of corpses.

More mutilated bodies swing eerily from the branches. There are German soldiers hanging there too.

‘Deserters,’ Wake says.

It’s hard to care about dead Germans when not 100 feet away we stumble upon some of our own – fighters from other Resistance groups, each man shot in the middle of the forehead, their faces deliberately mutilated.

‘Ambushed,’ Bernard says, scanning the trees.

Oh, brilliant. We finally set up camp, putting a few miles between us and the ruined corpses. And, God willing, any bloody ambush waiting in the forest.

Above, the sky is flat and grey. Trying to ignore the cold spike of rain against my face, I watch Wake as she stares at an empty field.

‘Ambush?’ I whisper.

She shakes me off like I’m a mosquito. ‘A field. And maybe the right one.’

‘The right one for what?’

I imagine us all hiding in the bushes, before some horrible massacre unfolds.

‘For our supplies.’ She nods to herself. ‘Full moon in 8 days.’

Parachute drops, I realize. Over the past few weeks, we’ve survived on the kindness of French peasants. I expressed my doubt when Wake first explained that the less people have, the more they are willing to share; but it seems she’s right. Even still, we have to get our own supplies eventually.

She now gives me a long searching look before deciding she is willing to show me how a parachute drop works.

After we finally have some lunch – or is it dinner? Does it matter? – I sit on the log as Wake gives Denis a code name – Orange, Strawberry, Lemon – that matches a field on a meticulously detailed Michelin map. Then she adds a seemingly meaningless gibberish phase – Ding-dong-dell, pussy’s in the well.

With that, she has apparently ordered more food – and explosives. So this is why she calls the wireless radio the Eureka machine. With the right code words, you can feed and arm a whole band of guerrillas.

The following day, we gather near the radio, listening to the BBC news bulletin. The news is given, and then the voice announces ‘some personal messages’, and proceeds to list off a near half-hour of incoherent rambling.

When the rain’s in the mountains the crow takes to flight. Clementine resembles her grandmother. Valerie Pringle’s birthday is in October. Shake the trees to gather the pears.

Most of it is nonsense, Wake explains. But some of the phrases contain vital information for different Resistance groups across the country. After about fifteen minutes of wondering whether or not I’ve finally cracked, the phrase leaps out at me. Ding-dong-dell, pussy’s in the well.

The drop is on.

*

Drops are only possible ten days before the full moon and ten days after, but we still must light bonfires and carry torches.

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