Dauntless by Alan Evans

Author:Alan Evans [Evans, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2014-10-21T23:00:00+00:00

8 — The Raid

There was a chill dampness to the night and the sky was overcast. Smith sat at the helm of the cutter with Edwards on one side of him and Lieutenant Jameson on the other. Edwards still wore his robes and carried the villainous knife. Three of Captain Brand’s marines were crowded into the sternsheets but Brand himself crouched in the bow along with Buckley.

Ackroyd had pointed out, “With respect, sir, the admiral’s order was that you were not to go ashore.”

Smith had answered solemnly, “In that operation. This is a different plan.” It was Smith’s plan and he was going ashore.

The coast loomed like a black frieze of dunes against the dark with the thick silver line of the surf underlining it. That line was broken some three hundred yards to Smith’s left where lay the mouth of the Auja river. No day attack this, as Finlayson had ordered. And no feint either. To his right and about four miles away, Jaffa lifted a ragged silhouette on its hill. Then it was lost to sight behind a headland and the cutter ran into the surf, bucked and pitched as it rode it, then crashed in on the beach. That crashing landing half-threw Buckley over the bow, Brand with him. Smith made them out, standing in water to their knees and grabbing at the bow, then with the sea above their waists as it crashed in again and they hauled on the bow of the boat.

Smith called, “Oars!” Whispering was pointless in this thundering surf. The oars came in and he saw the seamen rowing bow go over the side to add their muscle to hauling the boat in. Smith shoved Edwards forward after the marines and clambered over the thwarts behind him as the rest of the cutter’s crew plunged into the sea to wade in, hauling at the boat. Edwards was in the bow and jumped. Smith followed him into the surf, turned to give a hand with the boat but saw it being run up on the shore. Edwards slipped like a shadow across the beach, Brand and his three marines following him, Brand with pistol in hand, the marines with rifles at the trail. Smith brought up the rear with Buckley panting at his shoulder.

Their boots began to slip in the soft sand; they were into the dunes. Edwards turned to his left and headed towards the mouth of the river. Smith was up with the marines now, passing them, his breath coming fast. Edwards lunged to his right and reached one hand down to the sand. Smith saw him lift up the loop of telephone wire and the flash of the knife. Edwards tossed aside the severed wire and moved on. Now the machine-gun post was cut off from Jaffa, and from the Turkish regiment hardly more than a mile away to the north.

Edwards was crouching, moving cautiously now, edging away from the sea and further into the dunes. The sea’s pounding. became muffled and their own panting breathing could be heard.

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