Pride and the Anguish by Douglas Reeman

Author:Douglas Reeman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: McBooks Press
Published: 2016-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

AS THE WATERY SUNLIGHT finally broke through the drifting smoke and thinning patches of cloud the Porcupine rounded the last bend into the widest part of the river below the settlement. At first glance it was hard to recognise it as the same place. Only half the pier remained intact, the outward end having been reduced to a tangle of broken beams which jutted from the fast-moving stream like decayed teeth. The air was thick with smoke and noise and a drifting curtain of ashes and black smuts from the burning dumps further inland. At regular intervals the ground shook to the onslaught of bursting shells, most of which were hitting the ridge of hills beyond the settlement. But some cleared the high ground completely, and as the gunboat nudged cautiously into the remains of the pier the shells screamed overhead to plough deep amongst the jungle on the south bank before exploding and adding to the fires which were already there.

Quickly and nervously the landing party clambered across the pier and waited for Trewin and Mallory to join them. As the shells whimpered through the smoke and the air vibrated to their explosions the men crowded together as if for mutual support, their eyes on the shattered houses and the great craters along the dirt road.

Trewin said harshly, “You know what to do! Two parties up the road on the double and get every available person here right away!” He pushed his holster across one hip and added to Mallory, “They’ve had a few air raids too by the look of it.”

Mallory pointed at the remains of the stilted clubhouse. It was little more than a ruin, but miraculously the zinc bar still hung in position, a broken bottle at one end. “Never did like the bloody place!” He grinned, but his eyes were dark with strain.

Trewin watched Petty Officer Kane trotting up the road with his men at his back. The sailors looked clean and alien against the chaos and charred houses, and he saw several of them glancing back at the ship as if to reassure themselves of safety.

As he followed them towards the road Trewin also looked back. The Porcupine was swinging gently at her mooring lines, and he could see the livid gash on her waterline by the stem, a smear like blood where Grayling’s red lead had broken the final embrace.

Then as the two officers quickened their pace they saw the soldiers. They were coming down the road towards the river. They came in groups or singly, running, or just dragging themselves along at the last stages of exhaustion. Hardly any of them were carrying arms, and some of them had thrown away everything but their boots and shorts in their eagerness to get away.

An officer was standing in the centre of the road, a revolver in his hand as he shouted hoarsely, “Get back there! I’ll shoot the first man to pass this point!”

But the soldiers hurried by, not even sparing the officer

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