Blood of Honour

21

Oberleutnant Balthasar had woken at the sound of the shooting, swiftly got out of his camp bed and dressed, praying this had been the attack by Alopex and his men that he had hoped for. He was therefore not best pleased to learn that only one Cretan bandit had been killed and that whoever had opened fire appeared to have melted back into the night. On the other hand, at least his men had not shot Mandoukis. That was something.

The Cretan was brought before him in the company command-post tent. In the yellow half-light provided by a lone paraffin lamp, Balthasar was struck by how much the man had changed in just a few days: the growth around his face had become a rough beard, his hair and face were filthy, his cheeks gaunt and his eyes wide with fear but showing extreme fatigue. He smelt too – of piss and grime. Really, Balthasar thought, it was hard not to think of these people as inferior beings – they were little more than filthy, vicious, uncivilized animals. Balthasar could hardly bear to look at him.

The Cretan began to speak wildly. Balthasar raised his hands to silence him, turned to his interpreter and said, ‘Tell this man to be quiet. What is he saying?’

‘He wants to know that his wife is still alive, or he will not tell you anything.’

‘I hardly think he’s in any position to bargain,’ said Balthasar, then turned back to Mandoukis. ‘Let me get this straight. You joined your bandit friends and discovered they were planning an attack to free the women and child we imprisoned, so you thought you would wait and see what happened before coming back to me? It did not occur to you that, had you warned me, I might have set your wife free?’

‘He says he knew nothing about the plan. He was not with all the guerrillas at that time.’

‘Hmm. I find that hard to believe. What can he tell me now?’

‘He wants to know that his wife is safe.’

‘Yes. He will have to take my word for it, though, just as he expects me to take his.’

Relief appeared to sweep over the Cretan. As it happened, his wife was still alive, although she would soon be leaving Crete. There was no point in keeping prisoners on the island. Not only were they an unnecessary strain on resources, they were of use in labour camps in the Reich.

‘He says the attacks on Heraklion were not carried out by Cretans but by six British soldiers still on the island.’

Balthasar was certainly interested in this. It explained how they had managed to get into the town undetected. Wearing the uniforms of my men, he thought. ‘Tell him to describe them,’ he said.

‘Five of them were from a unit called Yorks Rangers. There are sixteen of them – they had sailed from Heraklion but their ship was sunk and they managed to get back to land and make their way up to the mountains.’

‘What did they look like?’

Mandoukis described them, gesticulating to emphasize size and features.

‘There was an officer, a captain called Peploe. Light ginger hair, round face, medium height. There was another man – a man all the others look up to. His name is Tanner. He has medals for bravery. He is tall, with dark hair and pale eyes.’

‘I know this man,’ said Balthasar. ‘It must be the same one. I’m sure of it.’ Well, well, well. ‘And the others?’

‘There was a sergeant called Sykes. Small – an explosives expert. And two others but he does not know their names. The explosives came from one of Pendlebury’s arms dumps. He had been bringing them to Heraklion before the invasion. They were moving them out again before the British evacuated. Most of it is in a cave in the mountains, but they blew up what was left in the town.’

Balthasar nodded. ‘That explains a great deal. And what about the sixth man?’

‘Captain Alex Vaughan. He worked with Pendlebury in Heraklion. Mandoukis knows this man. He is a soldier but with a unit called Middle East Commando.’

‘So how much in the way of supplies do they still have?’

‘He thinks a fair amount. They do not have much ammunition but plenty of explosives.’

‘And where are they being held?’

Mandoukis described the cave and how to get there. ‘It’s not far. An hour’s walk from Krousonas. He does not think there are any immediate plans for them to leave this base. There are other kapitans – Manoli Bandouvas is one – but he does not know where they are based at present.’

Mandoukis was speaking again, jabbering rapidly.

‘For God’s sake,’ said Balthasar. ‘What is he saying now?’

‘The British soldiers are due to leave soon,’ the interpreter told him. ‘He says a British U-boat is coming.’

‘Where?’

‘It has not been decided exactly, but they are planning to use the monastery at Preveli. It is quite isolated down there, but there is a beach below the cliffs.’

‘And where is this place?’

‘On the south coast. A few kilometres east of Plakias and south-west of Spili.’

‘Spili? A command post is being set up there already. And when is this submarine due to come?’

‘He’s not certain. They were awaiting confirmation but hoping it would be soon, either Saturday or Sunday. The Tommies will travel to the monastery overnight, remain there for a day and leave the following night. That is the plan.’

‘That’s four days’ time.’ Balthasar clapped his hands together. ‘Good. This is all most useful.’ He stepped outside the tent. Dawn was spreading across the valley, the air alive with birdsong. He stretched. It was not only Alopex and his guerrillas who had been a thorn in his side, it was those damned Yorks Rangers too. But a plan was now formulating in his mind. A plan that would kill two birds with one stone. He smiled to himself. He would have his revenge yet.

At the cave, the mood had been tense that day, Tuesday, 3 June. No one was quite sure how much Mandoukis knew or, indeed, what he might have told the enemy. Among the Cretans there was wide-spread disappointment, anger and even incredulity that one of their people could betray them all.

‘You know how proud they are,’ Vaughan told Tanner. The captain was up and about, his arm in a sling. ‘They’re very nationalistic, fiercely independent. Cretans first, Greeks second, and slaves to no one. But now they’re waking up to the reality of the situation. Crete is occupied by the Germans. Old feuds will be reopened, men will be betrayed. Long-valued friendships will be tested and trust replaced by suspicion.’

‘It seemed so obvious to me,’ said Tanner, as they sat beneath one of the mountain oaks, the leaves offering them dappled shade. ‘Mandoukis, I mean. Even if there was only the faintest of suspicions, he should have been locked up somewhere.’

‘They didn’t want to believe it, though. It’s different for you. Until the other day you had never met Mandoukis. You could see the implications of his wife’s imprisonment and his freedom with an entirely pragmatic eye. You might have reacted the same way if this was England and one of your oldest friends was in Mandoukis’s position.’

‘Maybe you’re right, sir,’ Tanner conceded.

‘It’s taken a bit of the gloss off our venture the night before, though, hasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ He picked up a small stone and threw it away. ‘These people are brave, but they’re not trained. Alopex and Satanas are good leaders, I’ll give you that, and men like Alopex are prepared to fight hard and dirty, but there will always be a limit to how much irregular troops can achieve. There’s a bit of ammunition now but it won’t last. How are these people to keep going? They can’t live in the mountains for ever.’

Vaughan smiled. ‘You sound just like Pendlebury. He had exactly the same concern. It’s what he kept trying to get across to our masters in Cairo and London.’

‘And these mountains,’ said Tanner. ‘It’s all right now. It’s summer and warm, and it’s only been a few days. But it’ll be a different kettle of fish when winter comes.’

‘There’ll be snow. I worry how they’ll survive. These men are loyal enough towards the kapitans now, but will they be by January?’

‘I’ve half a mind to try and stay here, you know. I like this place. I could help them.’

‘And there’s Alexis Kristannos too.’

‘Well, yes, there is.’

‘You’d find it very frustrating, Jack. And you really do need to speak the lingo, and have the patience of a saint. It would be one disappointment after another – supplies not arriving, headstrong Cretan guerrillas doing the opposite of what you tell them, shortages of everything. You’re a fine soldier, but the liaison officers here need different skills. Military prowess is almost the least of it.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, sir. And the ammunition will soon run out. Without it, we’d not be helping at all. We’d just be extra mouths to feed.’

‘We already are. We’ve done our bit – and you have especially, Jack – but most of your men have done nothing since they arrived. Cleaned weapons, slept, eaten the guerrillas’ food – and that’s been about it. Ten men who have done nothing but eat their food. That’s why we need to get off the island as quickly as possible. The best help we can be is to keep fighting the Germans – and at the moment, that means in North Africa. I also think they hope that if they help to return lots of our stranded soldiers, we’ll give them more arms and supplies.’

‘They need to keep us sweet, eh?’

‘I think they assume so.’

Tanner wiped his brow; even in the shade and high in the mountains, it was warm. ‘And when it’s all over,’ he said, ‘I wonder how many of them will still be alive. How many villages will have been razed.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s going to be tough for them, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘And all because our commanders keep making such bloody stupid mistakes.’ He flung a stick onto the ground. ‘When are we going to get someone who’s got a bit of fire, sir? That’s what I’d like to know.’

Soon after, Alexis found him. ‘Come with me,’ she said. ‘I want to show you something.’

Tanner followed as she led him up the spur above the cave. Climbing a goat track through the thick vetch, they had soon left the secluded encampment behind.

‘We are nearly there,’ she said, taking his hand in hers. Tanner’s heart quickened, not from the exertion of the climb but from the touch of her skin on his. At last, they crested a ridge and suddenly the mountain range was spread before them all the way to the coast. And there was Heraklion, not the bomb-damaged mass of rubble, but a patch of white, dazzlingly bright against the deep blue of the Aegean. The folds and ridges of the valleys below spread away from them, while beyond, hazy in the distance, was the next great chain of mountains.

‘It’s incredible,’ he said. ‘Yours is a truly beautiful island, Alexis.’

‘I can still believe it is a peaceful place when I’m up here,’ she said. She turned him around so that they were looking at the highest peak of the entire chain. ‘And that is Mount Ida. The birthplace of Zeus.’

Tanner followed her gaze, then clasped her shoulders, bent down and kissed her. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I first saw you,’ he said.

‘I wanted you to.’ She laughed, then placed her arms around his neck and pressed herself into him.

‘What will you do?’ he asked.

‘We have cousins in Fourfouras,’ she said, ‘on the other side of these mountains. It’s in the Amari Valley. When you leave, we will come with you.’

‘Will you be any safer there than you were in Sarhos?’

She smiled. ‘Oh, yes. When you see the Amari Valley you will understand why. It is surrounded by mountains. The valley is not really a valley at all, but a bowl. A secret bowl.’

‘And what will you do?’

‘I want to help, Jack. I have told my brother I want to be a runner for him. I know these mountains as well as anyone.’

‘And what did he say?’

‘I think he will say yes.’ She raised her mouth to his.

‘And what will he say about this?’

‘Nothing. Now you two are friends. Anyway, I do not care what he says.’ She put her hand to his cheek. ‘When I was in that prison, I thought at first that they would shoot us all. Then they told us we would be sent away, taken from Crete to a prison camp in Germany. But I would not have let them. I would have killed myself before they took me away from here. I thought my life was over, but here I am. It made me think I must make the most of what life I am given. Soon you will be gone. I would rather have a few days with you, Jack, than none at all.’

‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘And you’re right. We mustn’t die full of regrets.’

He held her face in his hands, then pushed his fingers through her hair. She looked so determined, but vulnerable, the bruising on her cheek still quite marked. He kissed her again.

‘We should go back to the cave,’ she said, and taking his hand, led him back down the stony track.

The sun was setting behind the mountains when Jack Hanford arrived at the cave, bringing with him confirmation that the British submarine, HMS Thrasher, would arrive on the following Sunday, 9 June, a short distance from the beach at Preveli, as had been initially suggested. He also reported that contact had been made with a party of Australians from Rethymno, who were making their way south into the Amari Valley. Commander Pool was going to arrive in the submarine and hoped to talk with the abbot of Preveli, Father Agathangelos Langouvardos, about using the monastery as a mustering point.

‘Father Agathangelos will agree to this,’ Satanas told him, as they once more sat around the fire at the mouth of the cave. This place, perched on a rocky lip to the side of a spur at the head of the ravine, had become the focus of the guerrillas’ command post. And as ever, a strict protocol was observed: guerrillas on one side, British on the other, officers and kapitans sitting on rocks nearest the gently burning flames, their men standing behind.

‘I have known him a long time,’ Satanas continued. ‘He will do as Commander Pool asks.’

‘He’s already agreed to take these men in and any Australians who can reach Yerakari in time,’ said Hanford. ‘I saw him last week.’

Satanas stroked his white goatee beard. ‘You should move tomorrow. You will be safe to move by day up here. Alopex will accompany you with some of his andartes.’

‘We will stay in Fourfouras tomorrow, then go on to Yerakari,’ said Hanford. ‘We’ll move out again on Saturday evening, cross the main road at night and reach Preveli early on Sunday morning. We’ll be safe to wait there until Thrasher arrives.’

‘And what about you, sir?’ Tanner asked Satanas. ‘Will you stay here?’

Satanas looked at him, his eyes bright. ‘You don’t think we should?’

‘No – no, I don’t, sir. Mandoukis will surely have told them about this place. Jerry may still not want to attempt any attack this far into the mountains, but I don’t think it’s worth taking a chance.’

‘I think you’re right,’ said Satanas. ‘We will be fighting the Germans for some time yet. We must learn to be patient.’

‘I agree,’ said Alopex. ‘God knows I want to kill those sons of whores and especially this Lieutenant Balthasar, but we need the Germans to dance to our tune, not the other way around. We should get the supplies here away to safety – to the Idean cave. No German will go there.’

‘Then we are agreed,’ said Satanas. ‘Tomorrow morning, we will all go.’

The mood among the men, both Cretan and British, seemed to improve with the announcement of these decisions. Wine and raki were produced and they remained sitting around the fire, drinking and talking, until long after dark. Yet despite the wine and raki, when Tanner returned to his small hollow in the rocks, he lay awake for a long time, unable to sleep, his mind a jumble of conflicting emotions. It pained him to think that all too soon he would be bidding farewell to Alexis, probably for ever. Something about her had got under his skin; his head had been quite turned. And yet he wanted to get back to Egypt too, to be part of a battalion and army once more. Damn it, he also wanted some leave: the thought of the bars and restaurants of Cairo made his stomach rumble with yearning. More than that, he knew he could not stay – Vaughan had been right. Yet to walk away from this place and the woman who had entranced him made his heart ache.

Eventually, he had fallen asleep. He must have done, because when he opened his eyes it was no longer dark and the mountains were emerging into the first light of early dawn. But what had woken him was not the sound of men stirring, but of rifle fire, which could mean only one thing.

The enemy had come up the mountain after all.