Red Devils

18

Jones and Steele knew exactly what to do. They emerged from the shadowed tree-line and ran towards the fence around the concentration camp, keeping low despite being quite certain that no one was watching. The barbed-wire topped mesh fence seemed to tower above them – far too high and dangerous to scale even if it hadn’t been electrified. They chose a spot which was easy to remember: just to the right of another enormous elm tree and, according to the lieutenant’s map, at a point near a part of the camp complex which was relatively infrequently accessed.

Both men took entrenching tools from their packs and began to dig, working at pace and managing to quickly excavate a decent amount of soil, no mean feat given that much of it was hard as concrete, rock-solid with permafrost. It wasn’t going to be easy to dig under the fence, but it appeared to be their only option tonight. The constant electric hum of the barrier was enough to ensure that both men constantly kept their wits about them.

Henshaw dispatched Harris to try and get a better appreciation of what was happening inside the camp. He slipped back into the trees and soon found an oak which appeared tall enough and strong enough and which was relatively easy to climb. The branches, although bare, would provide enough cover in the low light. He shimmied up the trunk and found himself a good spot.

Even in almost total darkness, Polonezköy camp was a terrifying sight. It had been built in the grounds of a castle which dated back to the sixteenth century, with the imposing gothic entrance of the castle itself acting as the single entry and exit point. Harris’ stomach churned with nerves, and he could only begin to imagine what the prisoners, already broken and resigned to their fate, must have felt when they arrived at the camp to be greeted with such an imposing façade.

The vast area enclosed by the border fence and the wall just beyond was difficult to make out from up here. He could just about make out the roofs of low huts and other buildings, grey against the gloom, and a couple of guard towers which appeared to be unmanned. There were occasional glowing lights in places, but nothing like the level of illumination he’d expected to see there. Harris was a tough soldier who’d faced more than his fair share of unspeakable horrors during his relatively short years of service, but there was something about Polonezköy this morning that unsettled him more than anything he’d come across before today. It seemed to have a brooding menace all of its own. He knew the camp was packed full of people. Whether they were alive or not was a different question (and he was pretty sure it was a question to which he already knew the answer). It was like they were waiting for the task force to try and break in. Like they were lurking in the shadows, ready to jump out. Thousands of them.

Harris held his position and kept a close watch until they were ready to make their move.

Jones and Steele worked hard and fast with their entrenching tools, moving with unspoken synchronicity as they took turns to dig in and shift more frozen soil, all the time taking care not to touch the electrified fence. The sergeant led by example, easily matching the younger man’s pace.

The smell of burnt flesh still hung heavy in the air from the thing that had made contact with the deadly barrier a short time earlier, a stark reminder of the dangers they faced. Henshaw, Wilkins and Barton watched from the near distance until the two men began to visibly flag. ‘Barton, we’ll take over for a stretch,’ Henshaw said.

Wilkins was keen to gain the trust and respect of the others. ‘You stay here, Lieutenant, and I’ll go. I don’t want to be accused of shirking. You’ve got your men to look after.’

‘Very good. Thank you, Wilkins.’

He and Barton swapped places with the pair at the fence. Wilkins was impressed by the amount of work which had already been done: the hole was wide enough and deep enough to crawl into, just not yet quite long enough to reach over to the other side of the electrified fence. It soon would be, though. He worked hard to match Barton’s pace, but made a mental note to try and conserve his energy. Despite the physical effort breaking in was taking, he knew the real work would begin once they were on the inside, and there would be no time to catch their breath once the camp wall had been breached. He had in his mind that the next few hours would be something of a sprint; a war conducted at breakneck speed.

Twenty minutes more and they were just about through. Near the trees, Harris returned to report back to Lieutenant Henshaw. ‘It’s really not right in there, Lieutenant.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Dunno, sir. Can’t rightly put my finger on it. Most of the lights are out, and I couldn’t see any movement from where I was. I think it’s every bit as bad as Lieutenant Wilkins reckons.’

‘We have to be positive. Fewer lights and fewer guards might mean it’s easier for us once we’re inside.’

‘Here’s hoping, sir,’ Harris said, praying the low moonlight was dull enough to disguise his unease.

Barton jogged back over. ‘We’re through, Lieutenant.’

Henshaw nodded at Jones. ‘Right. You’re up next, Lance Corporal. You know what to do.’

With trepidation wrote clear on his mud and sweat-stained face, Jones stripped down to his vest and walked towards the fence, teeth chattering with cold. The others took his gear. ‘We call him the rat,’ Barton explained to Wilkins. ‘And not just because of his looks, neither. He’s a slippery little bugger. Can just about get through any gap we need him to.’

And he was right. The hole they’d dug under the fence was relatively shallow, but it was deep enough for Jones who half-crawled, half-dragged himself through, seeming to contort his torso to a remarkable degree to avoid touching the wire. ‘He could have been in the circus,’ Harris laughed.

‘A deserter from the big top,’ Steele agreed.

‘All right, all right… that’s enough,’ Henshaw snapped. ‘We need to focus. There’ll be time for laughs when we’re safely back in Blighty.’

Jones looked up as the others neared. He was on the other side of the fence now with the entrenching tool he’d pushed ahead of him, working hard to increase the size of the hole so his colleagues and all their kit could fit through. He didn’t like being over on this side on his own. His teeth were chattering with nerves now as much as cold, and his guts were tied up in knots.