Drake's War: A Tennyson Drake WWII Thriller by Gideon Saint

Author:Gideon Saint [Saint, Gideon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ARCUS EDITIONS
Published: 2023-04-17T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 60

Drake found MacTaggart waiting outside the bunker. The old sergeant looked up expectantly. ‘And?’

Drake shook his head. ‘They think it will take another week or so before Jerry tries to cross the river. Apparently the Wehrmacht have forgotten to bring their heavy artillery.’

MacTaggart frowned. ‘That does not sound like the Hun, sir. They are not in the line of forgetting things.’

Drake shrugged. ‘The French seem certain of it. The German artillery’s all horse-drawn. Which means they won’t be here for some time. And he didn’t believe me about the Raven. Or worse - he believed me and didn’t even care.’

‘Reeks of fish, to me, sir.’

‘Well, Sergeant, it’s in French hands now. We can’t win the war for them, can we?’

But MacTaggart touched Drake’s arm, and pointed. ‘Talking of fish, sir, look what the cat’s lugged in.’

Through the bustle of French orderlies, NCOs and subalterns who were hurrying in and out of the command post, came the strutting figure of Colonel Vandame. Drake remembered the artillery colonel who had doubted him at Petitvoir. How could he forget? The colonel glanced over, and their eyes met. A jolt of recognition went visibly through the man.

Drake knew it was a mistake before he said it, but he couldn’t help himself. ‘Next time, perhaps you will listen, sir! Why does nobody believe a single word I say?’

The colonel strode towards him, face flickering with emotions. ‘How dare you speak like that to a superior officer? I shall have you arrested. What are you doing here in the French sector? You are not even French!’

Drake stared. The man’s arrogance was extraordinary. But he didn’t doubt the colonel’s intentions. He’d have Drake discredited before he could point the finger of blame. Drake stepped forwards, fighting down a flash of anger and a sudden urge to strike the man. Then another Frenchman stepped in between the two men, and gently eased them apart.

‘Come now. We are allies. Let us not have any misunderstandings.’

Drake stepped back in surprise. It was Capitaine Antoine Rollande.

The big French captain led Drake away from the bunker. Drake glanced over his shoulder to see Vandame glaring after him, muttering to an aide.

‘What was that all about?’ Rollande said, now smiling broadly. ‘I’m glad to see you made it. You had us worried back there, for a while. My man Patenaude said he found your sergeant, but then we never saw you for this damned general retreat.’

Drake gave MacTaggart a knowing glance. There was something about Rollande that he couldn’t fail to like. Instinctively Drake had known the man was no coward. And he was the only friendly face in a sea of sneering disbelief.

Drake spoke in an urgent undertone. ‘So why did everybody retreat?’

Rollande glanced around, then put a placatory hand on Drake’s arm. ‘Now’s not the time, Drake. We’ll talk about it later.’ He leaned in. ‘Did you manage to catch your bird?’

‘We’re getting closer. I think I saw him back in Bouillon, and again in Sedan. But he slipped through our fingers both times.

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