The Odin Mission

Chapter 15

There had been no movement by the Germans all night, and neither was there as the morning wore on.

Tanner's mood was not good. Not good at all. Nor was it improved by Chevannes, who had joined him and Sykes at the lookout only to pace about, clicking his fingers and grimacing. Trying to ignore him, Tanner watched another German army truck trundle down the valley. An aeroplane droned above.

Chevannes lifted his binoculars and Sykes cried out, 'Sir, no! With respect, sir.'

Chevannes stared at him, then slowly lowered them.

'For God's sake,' muttered Tanner.

'The sun, sir,' added Sykes. 'It could reflect in the lens.'

'Yes, of course,' said Chevannes. 'You are quite right, Corporal.' He pursed his lips, then said, 'Perhaps we should go over the mountains.'

It was something Tanner had thought about as well. Yet behind them there was a range of snow-covered peaks, as much as six thousand feet high. From the map - and Anna had confirmed this - it appeared to be a snow-covered and largely barren wilderness, with no roads and a number of difficult mountain lakes they would be forced to navigate round. Perhaps they could cross them successfully and reach the valley beyond, but there was no knowing how long it might take. 'Sir, I think we should sit tight and hold our nerve,' Tanner said. 'Jerry hasn't taken Sulheim's truck. It's still there. If we trek across the mountains we'll lose more than another day.'

Chevannes was gazing out towards the farm, biting his lip. Then, without another word, he left them and returned to the seter.

'A real decisive one there,' said Sykes, once the lieutenant was out of earshot.

'Oh, I don't know, Stan,' said Tanner. 'He was pretty decisive yesterday when he ordered us to stay here. His problem is that he digs his heels in when he shouldn't and not when he should. I've seen his type before. Bloody brilliant officers in peacetime. They can run further than anyone else, they're a damn good shot, they know all the drill, carry out exercises to the letter. They always look spick and span. But when the fighting starts, they're all over the place because the one thing they can't do is lead men in battle. Real fighting isn't like practise fighting. It doesn't follow the training manual. And golden boys, like Xavier bloody Chevannes, find out they're not quite so bloody marvellous as they thought.'

'And they don't like being shown up by NCOs, hey, Sarge?'

'Well, what I am supposed to do? Sit back and let him make disastrous decisions?'

'No, I didn't mean that, Sarge. But it's why he hates you. That's clear enough.'

'Yes,' said Tanner, spitting grit out of his mouth. 'Believe me, Stan, the feeling's mutual.'

The hours rolled by slowly. At around four, the German troops left the farm, yet there was no movement from the church.

'What are they playing at, Sarge?'

'I've been trying to work that one out all day.'

'I mean, we've seen patrols go up into the mountains but they've made no attempt to search the forest.'

'It's strange,' agreed Tanner. 'But I've been thinking about that. I suppose they must be trying to save casualties, but I also think they believe it'll be easier to take Sandvold alive in the open than in dense forest. They're waiting for us to come to them.'

'Yes,' said Sykes, nodding. 'You're right, Sarge.'

'They're assuming we're still somewhere in this valley,' Tanner went on. 'After all, we were seen by a number of Norwegians, and although they've had recce aircraft out in force, they haven't spotted any sign of us crossing the mountains. I suppose they think we'll have to show ourselves soon and are waiting to pounce on us when we do.'

'They've been a bit bloody obvious about it.'

'I suppose they think we won't have seen the men in the church. It's obvious they don't know where we are, just somewhere in the j0ra valley. But put yourselves in their shoes. With every hour that passes with no sign of us, doubt will be creeping into their minds. My hunch is they'll think we'll come down tonight when it's dark.'

'And if we don't?'

'Hopefully they'll give up and bugger off.'

'And if they don't?'

'Don't know, Stan. We think of something else.'

Shortly after six, three trucks of troops pulled into Uksum Farm. The men jumped out and made a show of searching the entire settlement at Alstad once more. A little under three hours later, they loaded up again and, with much revving of engines, drove away in the direction of Lillehammer.

Chevannes appeared at the lookout shortly after.

'So they are leaving,' he said, triumph on his face. 'We set off as soon as it is dark.'

'It's a trap, sir,' said Tanner. 'They've still got men in the church.'

Chevannes' expression changed. 'Are you sure, Sergeant?'

'Yes.' Tanner observed him. The only consolation, he thought, for the enforced frustrating delay was the obvious discomfort it was causing the Frenchman. 'As I said earlier, sir, we need to keep our nerve.'

Chevannes snorted, then sharply turned away.

Not long after, Anna joined them at the lookout. 'I've come in my role as chief medical officer,' she said.

'Is that what you are, Miss?' said Tanner, grinning.

'Yes, and I want to know whether either of you has had any sleep.' 'I have, Miss,' said Sykes. 'Took forty winks earlier this afternoon.'

'Sergeant?'

'Not today,' admitted Tanner.

'Then you must get some,' she told him. 'We need you fresh and alert.'

'Is that an order?'

'It is.' Anna smiled.

'And how about you, Miss?' asked Tanner. 'The lads are minding their manners, I hope?'

'They've been most courteous.'

'What - that lot?' said Sykes. 'I don't believe it.'

'Well,' she said, 'they swear often, but they always apologize afterwards.'

'It's because they're Yorkshiremen, Miss,' said Sykes. 'Me and the sarge are from the south, but those lads are northerners. They're born with filthy mouths. Can't help themselves.'

'I don't mind.' She laughed, then stood up to leave. 'Now remember, Sergeant,' she said, 'sleep. It's very important.'

She was right, Tanner realized, and once she had gone, he lay back, his pack as a pillow, and closed his eyes.

He was asleep in moments, despite the discomfort of his surroundings, and by dawn, he felt refreshed; despite hunger, his head was clear. He watched the sun rise over the mountains on the far side of the valley, casting a golden light over the snow and dazzling him.

It was a little after three when he suddenly saw troop movements at the farm. There were eight men, and soon after he heard the rumble of an engine starting up.

Immediately bringing the binoculars to his eyes, he peered at the farm and watched the troops disappear behind a shed. Soon after, a small truck he had not noticed the day before, emerged and turned right on to the road, heading south.

Tanner reported this to Chevannes. 'It could still be a trap, though, sir.'

'What about the soldiers in the church?'

'That might have been them. But I couldn't say for certain.'

Chevannes nodded. 'We'll wait here a while longer.'

At nearly half past four, Tanner spotted Sulheim emerge from the farmhouse. Constantly glancing around him, he hurried out of the yard, across the river and pastures towards the trees.

When he reached the seter, he was short of breath, but his eyes were wide with excitement. 'They have gone,' he told them, then grinned. 'You have been spotted back over on the other side of the mountain. They think you crossed into the Gudbrandsdal valley again.'

'What about the men in the church?' asked Tanner. 'Was that them leaving earlier?'

Sulheim nodded. 'Yes. I did not let them know that I speak German, but the officer was becoming increasingly agitated. He was convinced you would appear when it was dark. I think he was on the point of leaving anyway when he had the signal.'

'How could we have been spotted?' Chevannes asked.

'A Norwegian reported seeing you.' He grinned again. 'You see? We are mostly patriotic countrymen around here.'

They loaded their packs hastily and headed back down the mountain to the valley. Unease dogged Tanner's every step, as though they were heading inexorably into a trap. Yet no shots were fired, neither did enemy troops appear. At the farm, anxious minutes ticked by as Sulheim replaced the alternator in the truck. His wife gave them bread and cold meat, but Tanner's appetite had left him.

At last they were ready to go. It was some time after six o'clock on the morning of Saturday, 27 April.

'What will you say if the Germans return and see the truck gone?' Tanner asked Sulheim.

'That you came back and forced us to hand it over.'

'Perhaps we should tie you up. Otherwise you'd be obliged to contact them the moment we left.'

'All right.'

Shortly after, with the family bound and left in the house, they loaded themselves into the truck. 'I'll drive,' Tanner told Chevannes. 'I know these vehicles. The British Army's got hundreds of them.' It was true, although the military versions were larger, heavier, and of a more basic construction. Nonetheless as Tanner stepped into the cab with Anna and Lieutenant Chevannes beside him, the driving mechanism felt familiar. Turn the ignition key, pull out the choke and press down the starter in the footwell. The engine turned over a couple of times then fired into life, the speedometer and oil pressure gauge flickering. Tanner put his foot down on the deep clutch, pushed the shaking lever into gear, released the handbrake, then eased them out of the yard and on to the road.

*********

In Lillehammer, Reichsamtsleiter Scheidt had spent another wretched night sleeping little, drinking too much brandy, smoking too many cigarettes and railing against their continued inability to find and capture Odin. With the arrival of morning and his return to the SD offices, his mood had worsened when a signal arrived from Zellner informing him that the night's search had been fruitless and that misinformation from a Norwegian farmer had sent them on a wild-goose chase back to the western side of the Gudbrandsdalen.

'Please stop fretting, Herr Reichsamtsleiter,' Kurz had told him. 'Go out and get some fresh air. Take a walk. But, for God's sake, stop glowering in here.'

Scheidt was contemplating doing as Kurz suggested when a clerk knocked at the door. Kurz looked up.

'A signal, sir. It's just come through.'

Scheidt strode over and snatched the thin transcript paper. As he read it, a smile broke across his face. 'At last,' he said. 'Perhaps your brand of optimism is justified after all, Sturmbannfuhrer.'

'Atmospheric conditions have changed, then?' grinned Kurz.

Scheidt nodded. 'It would seem so, Sturmbannfuhrer.'

A different message was tapped out to Zellner, now back at Tretten after another exhausting night in which he had felt the fear of failure clawing at him. As the clerk brought it to him, he snatched the piece of paper from his hand and read it with mounting excitement.

'Odin located in J0ra valley. They have M/T and are heading north. Stop them. Do not fail. Kurz.'

Tanner glanced in the mirror. Through the window at the back of the cab, he could see Erwood and Hepworth manning the Bren, its barrel resting on the tailgate. Next to them Larsen was scanning the valley with his binoculars to the south. It was meandering and close, narrowing to no more than a few hundred yards wide, the steep, wooded slopes rising above them. It gave Tanner a claustrophobic feeling, as though the world was closing in on them.

They drove in silence at first, which suited him. He wanted to concentrate and keep a watchful guard on the road ahead without distraction, but at length Chevannes spoke. 'Tell me, Anna,' he said, 'have you always lived here in the Gudbrandsdalen?'

'My family have, yes,' she said, 'but I have been studying in Oslo for the past three years.'

'Studying what?'

'Medicine - at the university.'

'A doctor in the making. You must be very clever.'

Anna looked down, embarrassed. 'Perhaps I will not be able to finish now. I still have another year. Everything has stopped with the war.'

'I am sure it will not go on for ever. In any case, people will still need doctors.'

'I will not become a doctor under the Nazis,' Anna replied, anger in her voice.

'No, no, of course not. Anyway, I am sure we will send them packing. Most of the French forces are in the north. With the British and our joint naval forces we will turn the tide. Lack of proper planning has been the problem here, but that won't be the case on the coast.'

'I hope you're right.' Anna sounded doubtful.

'I am, and let me tell you why. France has the largest army in the world. I know we have all seen pictures of Germans goose-stepping at Nazi rallies, but that is for show. They might have swept aside Poland, but the Polish cavalry was still on horseback. There is nothing so very remarkable about beating Poland. France, on the other hand, has an army of more than two million men, and more tanks and guns than Britain and Germany put together. In any case, we have sent some of our best troops to Norway - the Chasseurs Alpins, of course, but also the Legion Etrangere. So all will be well, you'll see.' He patted her knee.

Tanner felt her flinch. Shut the hell up, you French bastard, he thought. This was no time to sweet-talk Anna Rostad.

'Of course,' said Chevannes, after a short pause, 'I never went to university myself, but I did study at St Cyr. That's our national military academy.'

Anna nodded.

'Yes,' he continued, 'it is a fine place. It was established by the emperor himself, Napoleon Bonaparte. Near Versailles. Ah, it was a wonderful time in my life, training to be a soldier - training hard, I should add. It was something I had always wanted to do. And with Paris on our doorstep. I have never been to Oslo, but Paris is a beautiful city. A wonderful city. You must visit one day, Anna. Come to Paris and I will show you around myself.'

'All clear at the back?' yelled Tanner, leaning out of the open window.

'All clear, Sarge,' came Sykes's muffled reply

'And Versailles is magnificent, of course,' continued Chevannes. 'A stunning palace but also the gardens—'

'Where are we now, sir?' said Tanner.

Chevannes stopped speaking and opened the map on his lap.

'We're leaving the river behind,' added Tanner.

Anna peered over Chevannes' shoulder. 'Yes,' she said. 'We are here.' She pointed a finger. 'We are climbing to the Espedalen where there is a mountain lake.'

Tanner dropped down a gear as they drove out of the valley. The road was now rough and potholed, and the truck laboured as the track steepened. 'Come on,' muttered Tanner, 'you can do it.' The Morris kept going, but more slowly with every yard. 'Are you scanning the skies, Dan, Hep?' he shouted.

'Yes, Sarge,' came the reply.

'Don't worry, Sergeant,' said Anna, 'the road soon levels off again.'

'Good. I don't like going so slowly. Too bloody easy for any passing Jerry aircraft.' He leant forward and tried to look up. A few bulbous white clouds but otherwise the sky was a deep and bright blue. Not good for spotting enemy aircraft.

They inched round a hairpin bend and hit a pothole, which jolted them sideways. Amid groans from the back, Anna was knocked against Chevannes. 'Sorry,' she said.

'Why would I mind having you thrown against me?' Chevannes smiled, and Anna, flustered, brushed her hair off her face. 'I must say,' he continued, 'I do admire you. It was a very brave decision you made, to come with us.'

'I wanted to help my country,' said Anna, quietly.

'Yes, but for us - well, we are soldiers, and we expect—'

'What's that noise?' snapped Tanner.

'I didn't hear anything,' said Chevannes.

Of course not, thought Tanner. You're bloody yapping too much. He strained his ears. Yes, there it was again, unmistakable - an aircraft, maybe two. His body tensed and he bounced up and down in his seat, willing the truck to go faster. 'I can hear an aircraft!' he yelled. 'Can anyone see it?' He turned to Chevannes. 'Sir, can you see anything?'

Chevannes leant from the cab, but as he did so, Hepworth shouted, 'Got them, sir! Two aircraft at five o'clock. Coming up the valley.'

'Get some bloody binoculars on them!' Tanner shouted.

Chevannes turned in his seat and leant out of the window, glasses to his eyes. The truck was gaining momentum once more. Beneath them was a steep, almost sheer, wooded valley. On their right, the mountain continued to climb. An old farmhouse now, perched on a cliff-top; more grass-roofed shacks. Tanner searched ahead for a place to shelter at the side of the road, but there was nothing. Rather, as the road straightened he could see the deep ravine to their left rising towards the long, narrow lake Anna had spoken of. Christ. They were even more exposed up here.

'Single engine, Sergeant!' Larsen called out. 'Two.'

'Stukas!' said Chevannes. 'Mon Dieu.'

Tanner tried to think. Drive straight on. Keep going. If they know about Sandvold, they're not going to hit us. He could hear them clearly now, the thrum of their engines. The road was rough, but clear and straight - almost dead straight. He put his foot on the accelerator and watched the needle flicker on the speedometer. Sixty, sixty-five, edging seventy kilometres per hour. What was that? Forty miles an hour? Come on, he thought. Keep going for me.

'They're right on top of us, Sarge!' said Hepworth. 'Bloody look at them bastards!'

'What are you doing?' said Chevannes, swinging back down into the cab. His face was tense, his eyes wide.

'I'm going to bloody well keep driving. The faster we move the harder it'll be for them to hit us. If I need to swerve off the road, I will.' His hands tightened around the steering-wheel.

The two Stukas flew on, until Tanner could see them, small but distinct. It was hard to know how high they were, but he guessed at least six thousand feet.

'They're flying past us,' said Anna.

'It's not possible,' muttered Chevannes. 'Surely not.'

'They're getting a lead before they dive.'

Sure enough, the aircraft turned 180 degrees on to their backs and dived at about a ninety-degree angle. Sirens wailing, they screamed towards them, the valley resounding to their deafening drone.

'It's such a terrible sound!' Anna closed her eyes and placed her hands over her ears. Then, as the lead Stuka seemed about to plummet straight into them, it levelled out. From its undercarriage they watched as a dark cigar- shaped bomb detached itself from the belly and fell, shrieking its death whistle, seemingly hurtling straight for them. Tanner pushed his foot down harder on the accelerator and ducked. A split second later a deafening explosion behind them rocked the truck. Tanner gripped the steering-wheel and righted it as the second aircraft pulled out of its dive. Another bomb howled towards them, debris from the first raining and clattering across the tarpaulin and metal cab roof. Tanner ducked again, Anna screamed, and there was another explosion, this time ahead.

Tanner felt the brakes lock, and momentarily lost control of the front of the truck, then regained it and straightened the Morris. With a screech of burning rubber, it slid across the stony road and they ground to a halt as a swirling mass of cloud and smoke enveloped them.

'Are you mad?' yelled Chevannes. 'Now we are sitting ducks!'

'Not in this smoke. Anyway, they're not trying to kill us, sir,' Tanner shouted back. 'They're trying to stop us!' He wound up the window, coughing as dust, grit and cordite choked him. Debris - stone, earth, bits of metal - clattered down once more. 'They want Sandvold alive,' Tanner spluttered, eyelids stinging. 'As soon as this clears I'll try to get us going again, but we don't want to fall into any crater.'

As Tanner had suspected, the two Stuka dive-bombers had gone without strafing. It was the confirmation he needed that the capture of Sandvold alive was the enemy objective. Knowing this made no difference to their goal of reaching the Allies, but it meant the Germans had to be careful about how they attacked them. That, he knew, was a useful advantage.

As the clouds of dust dispersed they could see the crater just ahead: a large hole spread across more than three-quarters of the road. The bank on the left, overlooking the lake, had collapsed, while boulders and other rocky debris were scattered twenty yards around it.

'Bollocks,' said Tanner, stepping out of the cab and hurrying to the crater's edge. Chevannes had followed him, and now, from the back of the truck, came Sykes and Lieutenant Larsen.

'Can't help but admire it, can you?' said Sykes, as they stood there regarding the damage.

'Bloody fine marksmanship,' agreed Tanner.

'We'll never get the truck past,' said Larsen.

'Damn you, Tanner,' said Chevannes. 'I knew we should have waited until this evening when we would have been out of sight of the Luftwaffe. Now we're stuck, unless you have any more bright ideas.'

'Well, sir,' he winked at Sykes, then turned back to Chevannes, 'if you'd take your men and keep a good watch out for any trouble, the corporal and I will get us moving again.'

Sykes delved into his bag and produced two cartridges of Polar dynamite. 'See, sir?' Sykes beamed at Chevannes.

'You wish to make another crater?' The Frenchman was clearly appalled.

'No, sir. We're going to blast away a bit of the bank. Then we drive round the crater.'

Tanner hurried back to the truck where Sandvold and the other men were waiting anxiously. Grabbing his pack, he said, 'Get ready with your shovels.

We're going to have to do a bit of clearing in a minute.'

'What the bloody hell's going on, Sarge?' asked Erwood.

'Bomb crater in the road. And we need to get past it, pronto.' He hurried back and took out his tin of safety fuse, which Sykes tied round the dynamite and placed in a small hole in the bank that he had already dug.

'How far back, Stan?' said Tanner. 'I've only got about forty foot left here.'

'Forty foot! Blimey, Sarge, we don't need anything like that! A foot or so should be fine. This stuff burns at two foot per minute, so just give me time to get out of the way. You might want to take the truck back a bit, though.'

Tanner nodded, cut the fuse and ran back to the truck. After he had reversed thirty yards, he saw Sykes signal, then put a match to the fuse and run down the road towards him. He turned to Anna, still waiting patiently in the truck. 'Might want to duck your head,' he told her. He kept an eye on his watch, following the seconds ticking by. A breathless Sykes reached him. 'Any moment now, Sarge.'

An ear-splitting crack rent the silence of the valley, the report echoing across the lake, while another cloud of dust briefly obscured the road. Once the rain of rock, stone and grit had settled, Tanner and Sykes hurried back to the crater to see the result of their efforts.

Hallelujah. A six-foot wide chunk of the bank had been blown, most of which appeared to have slumped into the existing crater. The road was a mess of rock, stone and earth, but it would soon be passable once more.

'Stan,' said Tanner, patting his corporal on the back. 'You're a genius.'

'I bloody am an' all.' He grinned.

Tanner returned to the truck, brought it forward, then ordered his men to get out and start clearing. Less than ten minutes later, the road was ready, and with the men standing and watching, Tanner began to inch forward. A scrape of metal as the offside wing ground against the bank. Tanner could feel the resistance of the rock. 'Sorry, Mr Sulheim,' he said to himself, then pressed his foot on the throttle. A painful screech of metal, and the truck lurched forward. A moment later, it was safely on the other side.

'Quick! Vite!' shouted Chevannes. The men got back into the truck, Chevannes rejoined Tanner and Anna in the cab and they set off once more. Tanner looked at his watch again: a little over twenty minutes from the start of the attack. A glance at the map, open once more on Chevannes' lap. He wondered how long it would take the Stuka crews to return to their base and warn the ground troops of their position. With the road blocked behind them, he guessed the enemy would be coming from the Gudbrandsdal valley, joining the road at Vinstra. It was a good distance to Vinstra from Tretten, but who was to say whether the troops would come from Tretten or further north up the valley? It was impossible to know. He wiped a hand across his brow. Really, he thought, they might meet Germans at any moment. Perhaps Chevannes had been right, after all. Perhaps they should have waited. No, he told himself. We need to make ground while we can.

'Are you all right, Sergeant?' asked Anna.

'Yes - thank you, Miss.' Then he said to Chevannes,

'Sir, we need to watch the road ahead like hawks.'

'Yes, thank you, Sergeant, but all I can see at the moment is the end of the lake,' said Chevannes, 'so at present there is little I can do.'

'In a couple of kilometres, the road climbs again,' said Anna. 'It follows the lip of the mountain plateau. You can see a long way from up there.'

'What about snow?'

'There will be snow on the mountains but the road will be clear by now. I'm certain of that. There are quite a few farms along it - they will make sure the road can be used.'

'Good,' said Tanner, then took his German binoculars from round his neck and passed them to Anna. 'Here,' he said. 'Do me a favour, will you? Keep a dekko with these.'

'A what, Sergeant?'

Tanner smiled. 'Sorry, Miss. Soldier slang. It means, could you keep a sharp lookout?'

'Of course.' She returned the smile, and Tanner was pleased to see irritation on Chevannes' face.

A mile, then two. Suddenly the end of the lake reappeared and the climb began. Tanner dropped down a gear, the Morris grinding sluggishly forward. The road was winding, too, so their forward view was never more than a hundred yards at most. Tanner felt a heaviness in his stomach. He tapped his fingers on the steering- wheel, bounced up and down in his seat again, then eventually took out his last remaining packet of German cigarettes, offered one to Chevannes and Anna - who both declined - then fumbled for his matches. The effort of getting at them from under his jerkin, then delving into the right-hand breast pocket on his battle blouse caused him to drive over a pothole and briefly lose control of the wheel.

'Concentrate, Sergeant,' snapped Chevannes. 'We haven't come this far just for you to drive us off the road.'

Tanner ignored him, and as he clutched the steering- wheel, matches now in one hand, Anna said, 'Would you like me to light it for you?'

'Thanks, Miss,' said Tanner, and passed her both matches and cigarette. Having lit it, she carefully placed the cigarette between his lips.

'Thanks,' said Tanner again, inhaling deeply.

'Don't forget to keep watching the road ahead, Anna,' said Chevannes.

'No, of course - sorry,' she said, hastily bringing the binoculars back to her eyes. Tanner smiled to himself - as if they'd be any use on this winding stretch of road. He opened the window and the smoke dissolved through the narrow gap. It felt cooler already, and Tanner felt a shiver run down his back. Christ! Any moment, just round this corner ... But then he turned and the road was still empty. He felt a momentary flutter of relief.

'We're nearly there,' said Anna, as they drove round a sharp hairpin. Beneath them, away to their right, there was a deep ravine, dark, forbidding and densely covered with thick forest, but as they crested the brow the road levelled at last. To the left, they saw the snow-covered mountain plateau, to their right the ravine and in front, the long, straight road that hugged the lip for some fifteen miles, almost all the way to Vinstra. 'How far can you see now?' Tanner asked Anna.

'Three or four kilometres at least. It's empty.'

Patches of thin mud-brown snow covered the road, but its surface was clear enough for Tanner to push down hard on the throttle and build up speed. 'See anything at the back?' Tanner yelled.

'Nothing,' came the muffled reply.

Where were they? Tanner wondered. He drummed his fingers, felt the pistol at his hip; his trusted Enfield was wedged between his seat and the door.

Another two miles, and the road veered to the left, round a subsidiary valley to the main ravine, then curved back and straightened once more. As Anna had told them, there were a number of farms along this high mountain route, but not a soul stirred. The road was empty - not a cart, person or animal. Tanner realized he had barely even seen a bird. The place seemed lifeless; it was almost impossible to think a war could be going on. Tanner strained his eyes. One of the eyelids flickered. Fatigue was getting the better of him.

A glint in the distance snapped him out of his reverie. 'There!' he said. 'What was that?'

Both Chevannes and Anna had their binoculars trained. Another glint. 'There it was again!' said Tanner.

'It's them,' said Chevannes. 'A convoy of four trucks.'

Tanner's heart was drumming in his chest, his tiredness forgotten. 'How far?'

'Seven kilometres, maybe eight.'

'What are we going to do?' asked Anna, fear in her voice.

'Stop and head into the mountains,' said Chevannes.

'Here?' said Tanner. 'Where? There's no cover at all.' He glanced at the map. 'Where are we? What's this valley here?' With half an eye on the map, he pointed to a dogleg in the road.

'It's not far,' said Anna. 'Look, the road turns just ahead.'

'Good. Another valley to skirt round, then we'll be out of view. Ten to one it'll be wooded. We can ditch the truck there and take cover in the trees.'

To his relief, as they turned the corner and lost sight of the enemy, Tanner saw that the landscape was covered with dense forest. To their right a mountain stream was tumbling and cascading down to the ravine. At the corner of the dog-leg, the road crossed the stream and it was here that Tanner stopped.

'Everyone out! Quick!' shouted Chevannes.

Tanner hurried to the back of the truck and grabbed his pack, slinging it on to his shoulders, his mind whirling. 'Five miles at twenty miles an hour,' he mumbled, 'take away five. Ten minutes.' He looked at his watch. Nearly half past ten. Ten minutes to get Sandvold and Anna away and come up with a plan to delay the Germans. Think, man, think.

Chevannes was already urging the others to head into the trees. 'Come on!' he shouted. 'Quickly! Get moving!'

'Sir, wait!' Tanner called out. He ran up to him. 'Sir, if you and your men take the professor and Miss Rostad, my men and I will try to hold them off for a while.'

Chevannes paused then said, 'Very well.'

'Miss - Anna,' said Tanner. 'Where will you head for?'

'Here,' she told him. Her finger was shaking as she pointed on the map. 'Skjedalen. There are several mountain seters where we can shelter.' She swallowed, her eyes searching Tanner's face for reassurance. 'There are two peaks above us over to the right of where we are now - the Olasfjellet and the Silikampan. Keep those on your right and head almost due north.'

'All right,' he said. 'Now go. Wait for us there.'

Wide-eyed, frightened, she turned and ran.

'Lads, quick,' he said, calling his men to him. 'We need to halt these Jerry bastards. There are four trucks, and by my reckoning that's around seventy men.' The men's faces were ashen. 'Stan, the time has come for us to use up a bit more of our explosive. Can you start rigging the truck? You've got about five minutes. Dan, head up stream a bit, then cut into the trees on the right- hand side. Look for a good view down here, where you can see the road both sides of the bridge. The rest, follow Dan and be ready with your magazines. Find some good cover. The corp and I will join you in a minute. Now get going. Iggery, all right?'

Erwood and the other five hurried off and Sykes was already rigging together four cartons of Nobel's gelignite.

'What have you got, Sarge?' he asked, quick fingers deftly tying a length of fuse round them.

'Five more packets of Nobel's and about ten sticks of Polar. Oh, and half a dozen grenades. Where you going to put them?'

'Round the fuel tank, I thought. And why don't you put one of your cartons of Nobel's in the engine bay?'

'All right. What size bang is this going to make?'

'A big one.' Sykes grinned.

'Good. It needs to be. We've got to blow up as many of those trucks and as many Jerries as possible. How are we going to trigger it?'

'Grenade on the door?'

'Sounds good.' He lifted one side of the bonnet, and placed the carton of gelignite beside the coil.

'Seems a shame to blow her up,' said Sykes, as he opened the driver's side of the cab and leant in to set the booby trap on the passenger door. 'She's a good little runner, this one, and only a year or two old.'

'All for the greater good, Stan.'

'I s'pose. Even so.'

He handed the fuse back to Tanner then said, 'I see Mr Chevannes has buggered off.'

'I told him to. Someone's got to look after the professor and Miss Rostad.'

'He didn't need much persuading.'

'No, the sod. I could read his mind like a bloody book. He was thinking, This might seem a bit cowardly, but there's every chance I'll get rid of that bastard Tanner.' He chuckled. 'Christ, he's a pain in the arse.'

'Well, it's just us now, Sarge.'

'Yes,' said Tanner, 'and I feel happier already. Right. All done?'

Sykes nodded.

'Good. Let's get the hell away from here.' They scrambled off the road and up the side of the stream. 'You in position, Dan?' Tanner called to Erwood.

'Yes, Sarge,' Erwood shouted back, as Tanner and Sykes continued climbing up and away from the road.

'Good cover?'

'Yes, Sarge!'

'Have you sorted out your escape route?'

A pause. 'Think so, Sarge.'

Tanner slipped, cursed, then looked back to see the leading enemy truck turn the last shallow curve in the road a couple of hundred yards behind them. His heart was thumping again. 'Here they come!' Tanner called, and scrambled up through the snow and into the trees, short of breath, chest tight, blood pumping. Good, he thought. Erwood, with Hepworth beside him, lay behind a rocky outcrop, a clear field of fire on the road below and the stream beneath them. The other riflemen were nearby, most behind trees but making good use of the undulations on the steep slope rising from the stream. They were learning, thought Tanner. Behind him, he saw the others' tracks disappearing into the trees. The forested slopes, he knew, would be a great help; as the mountain climbed away from them, the dense pines seemed to draw towards one another, so that within about seventy yards from where he now stood he could no longer see any snow-covered ground at all, only the trees. The pines would protect them as they fell back.

'Stan, you stick back on the lip of the ravine,' he told his corporal. He wanted Sykes to be able to make an easy get-away, should it be necessary. 'And here,' he said, taking off his pack and gas-mask bag, 'keep these by your feet, or put them somewhere out of the way.' He now realized how foolhardy he had been in keeping so much high explosive about him during the firefight at the seter; he'd been fortunate then, but he didn't want to chance his luck a second time. He grabbed two sticks of Polar dynamite and three grenades, then stuffed them into his haversack, which still hung from his hip, and ran over to Erwood and Hepworth.

'Hep, grab your rifle and move back. I'm going to man the Bren with Dan.'

'Where to, Sarge?' asked Hepworth.

'Up the hill a bit. Where you can get some good shots in and get away quickly. Go! Get a bloody move on!'

Along the road ahead the trucks were drawing near. With shaking hands, Tanner undid the fastenings on his magazine pouches, felt in his haversack for his grenades and .303 ammunition clips, then pulled his rifle into his shoulder. 'Got a couple of tracer rounds, Dan?'

Erwood handed him two. Tanner fed them into an ammunition clip and slotted it into his rifle's magazine.

'Ready?' he asked.

'Sarge.'

'Don't fire until I say.' He took a bead on the truck. The pack of Nobel's strapped to the fuel tank was out of sight, but he had a clear view of the bonnet. His body was tense, heart hammering, as the first enemy truck drew alongside the Morris-Commercial, then slowly pushed on across the bridge. Damn, he thought, then saw that the two trucks following had halted alongside Sulheim's wagon. Orders were being barked and troops, most now wearing helmets rather than field caps, were jumping from the back of the lorries. Tanner watched with bated breath as two men approached the Morris. Then, to his annoyance, they stepped round to the far side and opened the door. 'Sod it,' whispered Tanner.

'What is it, Sarge?' mouthed Erwood.

'They've opened the wrong door.' The soldiers were shouting now and pointing wildly. 'They've found the grenade,' muttered Tanner, and pulled back the bolt on his rifle. He knew that the moment he fired the battle would start. Would he survive? Would any of them? God only knows. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

The first bullet missed, but the men by the truck had had no chance to look up before the second slammed into the bonnet, puncturing the thin metal, tearing into the packet of gelignite and igniting it. Less than a split second later, the explosion in the engine bay provided the spark needed to detonate the two packs of Nobel's that Sykes had tied to the petrol tank. A vast ball of livid orange flame erupted round the Morris, incinerating the men who, a moment before, had been examining the cab, and engulfing the second German truck. Stunned soldiers screamed and fell backwards, some on fire. Now the third truck was aflame, the engine exploding, propelling shards of metal and glass.

'Bloody hell, Sarge!' whistled Erwood.

'Start firing, Dan,' said Tanner. 'We might have destroyed two trucks but that's only half the job.' He fired off several rounds himself as the Bren began to chatter next to him, empty cartridge cases clattering on to the bare rock. Men were falling in disarray at either side of the burning vehicles, too stunned to think clearly or organize themselves, but Tanner knew this advantage would soon pass. Adrenalin had taken over from fear. His mind was alert and clear, and what concerned him now was that the men from the first and last trucks, either side of the carnage, would try to infiltrate round the side of their position. Smoke billowed upwards - thick, black smoke. It covered the road and lead truck too. Bollocks. He'd not thought of that, but it gave the enemy from the lead truck perfect cover to make an advance up the slope on the far side of the stream. We should make what use of it we can too, thought Tanner.

'We need to fall back, Dan,' he said, with sudden clarity, 'and quick.' A moment later he heard a whistle and twenty yards to his right there was an explosion.

'What was that?' shouted Erwood.

'Mortars! They're firing bloody mortars from behind the smokescreen!' Two more followed in quick succession. Bullets were now zipping through the trees as the enemy troops from the first truck found their composure and their aim. 'Quick, Dan, get off a few rounds towards that first truck! Fire through the smoke!' shouted Tanner. Vague figures flitted in the haze as enemy troops scurried from the direction of the truck and onto the bank beside the road. Blindly, he fired several rounds in succession. A man cried out and a spectral figure fell, but Tanner knew it was now critical that he and his men move back. His mouth was parched with acrid smoke. Tracer now arced luminously through the smoke - a machine-gun: its rapid fire raked the ground around them in short deadly bursts. Even with half the force destroyed or out of action, enemy fire-power was already proving too heavy.

'Come on, Dan, we've got to move.' He pulled out a grenade. 'On three get up and go. One, two, three! Now!'

Erwood stood up, then fell back with a cry. 'Bastard!' he yelled. 'He's got my arm!'

'Think you can still move?'

Grimacing, Erwood nodded.

'Right,' said Tanner. 'Hand over the Bren. I'll cover you.' He rammed another thirty-round magazine into the breech and pulled back the cock. 'Go, Dan!' he shouted, as he opened fire, the butt of the Bren pummelling his shoulder. Tanner glanced back as Erwood slid behind a tree a short way above, then hollered, 'Fall back! Everyone, fall back!' Sykes was still firing at the first truck. More mortar shells fell among them, but the enemy machine-gun was now silent. Had Sykes or one of the others hit the men manning it or had they moved? Tanner couldn't tell. He had to get Sykes's attention above the din of battle. 'Stan!' he yelled. 'Stan!' Out of the corner of his eye, he could see more enemy troops working their way round the lead truck, ghostly figures in the smoke, and opened fire with another burst from the Bren. Christ, but we've got to get out of here. The first truck was drawing all their fire, yet he knew the men from the last must be working their way behind them. 'Stan!' he yelled again, and this time the corporal looked across. Frantically, Tanner waved his arm - fall back!-and Sykes nodded. First, though, the corporal pulled a stick of Polar dynamite from his haversack. Tanner fired another burst of the Bren, saw Sykes light the dynamite, count, then hurl it across the stream towards the enemy troops now working their way up the slope opposite. More mortar rounds rippled across the slopes, the blast tearing branches and kicking up spurts of snow, rock and mud.

Then Sykes's dynamite exploded, and for a moment, the enemy fire from the lead truck stopped.

Tanner snatched his rifle, slung it over his shoulder, grabbed the Bren, stuffed two more magazines into his pouches and scrambled out of his position - to be met by bullets fizzing past his head from the opposite direction. Damn it! Frantically Tanner searched the ground above him. He needed cover. Trees ahead and above him and to his left, a fallen trunk. He gasped, lungs straining. More bullets. Something whipped through his trousers. Yards to go. Feet losing their grip. Where were the others? Shouting from behind. Another mortar shell, this time below him, followed by yet another, between him and his attackers from the flank. It was just the cover he needed and as the blast erupted twenty yards away from him, he plunged over the fallen tree, face down, then rolled and lay sideways. He brought the Bren to bear, slammed in another magazine as debris pattered on his tin helmet, cocked it and opened fire.

Men loomed into view ahead. Bollocks, he thought. I've got sodding Jerries either side. He glanced behind and saw Sykes up ahead, urging him to follow, mouthing something he couldn't hear above the ear-shattering noise of mortars, shouts and small-arms fire. Another shell hit a tree not far from Sykes and exploded. Tanner ducked again, then shot a glance back to his corporal. No one was there.

'No!' yelled Tanner. 'You bastards!' Bullets pinged above him and slapped into the fallen tree-trunk. Blindly he fired another burst of the Bren, then pulled out a grenade and hurled it at his attackers. A whistle as yet another mortar round hurtled towards him, closer this time. Tanner ducked, heard the explosion, then felt the blast knock him back against the tree-trunk.

He was unsure how long he had been unconscious, but when he came to he was aware that the deafening din of battle had gone and then that he was surrounded by half a dozen enemy troops. As his mind cleared and his eyes focused, he realized he was looking up at none other than Hauptmann Zellner.

Tanner rubbed his head. He had a pounding headache, his ears still rang shrilly and his mouth was drier than sand, yet despite his predicament, he had the presence of mind to glance at his watch. Well, that's something, he thought. Nearly fifty minutes had passed since Chevannes had led Sandvold into the trees. Fifty minutes was a good head start.

Two men grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet, so that he was now face to face with Zellner. The German smiled, then rammed his fist into Tanner's belly. The sergeant gasped and doubled over, only to be pulled up again.

'Where is he?' Zellner hissed.

'Who?' said Tanner.

Zellner punched him again, every bit as hard. 'Where is he?' he repeated, as Tanner gasped and retched a second time.

'I couldn't possibly say,' murmured Tanner. 'We're just the holding force - holding you up, that is. And we have. In fact we are. I am, right now. So, let's chat some more.'

'Enough!' said Zellner, and then struck him a third time, this time on the jaw but the blow was misjudged. Tanner jerked his head back and the blow barely hurt. 'That should wipe the smile off your face. In any case, we do not need to know. We will just follow the tracks,' said Zellner, 'and we will catch him.'

'You won't,' said Tanner. 'Because he'll be shot before you get a chance.'

Zellner pulled out the pistol from Tanner's holster. 'Mine, I think,' he said. He held it, checked the magazine was full, then cocked it and pointed it at the centre of Tanner's forehead. 'I said I would kill you, Tanner, and so I will.'

Tanner smiled. 'You're a fool, Zellner,' he said. 'A stupid Nazi bastard fool.'

Zellner glared back. 'Tanner,' he said slowly, 'you have said your last.'

From the safety of his position among the trees on the slopes above, Sykes crouched, watching his sergeant and wondering what on earth he could do. Having seen Tanner knocked backwards, he had immediately thought to turn his back, follow the others and slip into the trees, but something had made him stop. As he had turned he had seen enemy troops hurry to Tanner and pull him to his feet. Knowing he was alive, Sykes felt compelled to stay and help. But how?

Wincing as the German officer landed repeated punches on his sergeant, he decided that a diversion was his best option. He still had a few packets of Nobel's 808 as well as several sticks of dynamite, and he had Tanner's pack too. Crouching, he glanced to his left in the direction the fourth truck of troops had come from. It was hard to see, so he scampered a short distance forward, climbed a bit higher, then he saw what he was looking for: a jutting outcrop of rock, like a giant boulder. If he could get enough explosives behind it and force it to tumble down the mountainside, he might help Tanner escape or, at worst, give the enemy a further headache.

He took a deep breath, then glanced back at Tanner and the enemy troops around him. He froze. The sergeant was now obscured from view by another of the German troops but the officer had his arm extended with a pistol pointing at Tanner's head. 'No!' mouthed Sykes, under his breath. He turned his head, not daring to look.

Then came the sound of a single pistol shot.