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  "What do you mean?"

  "It's as plain as the nose on your face; you are a leader. I saw it when you were making decisions that Major Foster should have made. The brass aren't totally stupid. One day someone will realise that and you will be an officer."

  "I am not sure."

  He smiled, "Yes you do Tom Harsker so no bull between old mates eh? And now I had better get to the stores; see what kind of mess it is in!"

  As he walked away I wondered if he was right. The Major and Reg Dean had said something similar. I had not joined the RAF because I did not want to be compared with my dad. If I was an officer then I would be.

  We had no specific officer assigned to train with us. Sometimes it would be Major Foster, sometimes Captain Leigh. More often than not it would be Lieutenant Marsden. He was a likeable young officer. The greenness had begun to wear off him. He had a raid under his belt and I knew, from his questions, that he envied the experiences of me and my section. That was perhaps his weakness. He might, under fire, defer to the sergeant. Dad had told me that a leader led.

  Our new recruit, Alan Moore, arrived on the first day of February. He was young. Polly was no longer the baby. He came from London and had that cheeky arrogance and confidence which seemed to be imbued into every Londoner. He told us he could not wait to get at Jerry and pay them all back for bombing his beloved city. As most of the section were northerners that arrogance grated a little but Gordy's humour diluted Moore's comments and made them seem harmless. I exchanged a look with my Corporal. Gordy would gradually modify the behaviour of Moore if only to retain the harmony of the section.

  By the end of February our newest member had found his feet. When the lads went to the pub he strutted and was not shy of telling the others how he would sort the Germans out 'good and proper' when he got the chance. It was Ken who put him in his place. His next whinge was about the lack of action. When the rest of the section turned on him he realised that he was outnumbered. I was not there when these events happened, neither was Gordy. The section had their own code; Ken told us about them and how the section had dealt with him. They had told him in no uncertain terms that he was lucky to be in the best section in the whole of the Troop and that, until he had earned the right to be called a Commando, he should keep his mouth shut.

  I spoke to Daddy about it as we walked back to the digs. "We were lucky with the section Tom we were given when we were first promoted. They were all good lads. We trained them. This is a new boy and he is different. You will have to work on him."

  Events transpired to delay that work. The new recruits were sent, at the start of March, to Ringway to complete the parachute training. They went with the other sections who had not received it. Moore went with them and just two sections were left at Weymouth. Ken was quite happy to have Moore away for a couple of weeks. "No more 'cheeky chappy' and Cockney wisecracks! If I hear 'up the apples and pears' one more time I will smack him one!"

  Polly said, in all seriousness, "I don't think he is a Cockney, Ken!"

  "All Londoners are Cockneys. They all think they are Max Miller. Now George Formby he can make me laugh."

  "I prefer Stan Laurel."

  "There you are, two northern comics, proper comics!"

  The debate, such as it was, went from Moore's deficiencies to the merits of comedians. Harmony was restored.

  Things had shown signs of going well in the Middle East. The Italians had all but been defeated and then Churchill had sent some of the better troops to Greece to help them. We had heard that the Germans were now in North Africa and that they were pushing us back. We read about this in the newspapers and it caused much argument. Some thought Churchill was wrong and that we should fight one enemy at a time. Others would not hear a word said against our charismatic leader. I said little; Dad had been in the Middle East and no one had heard from him for months.

  The rest of the troop arrived back at the beginning of March at the same time that we heard of the success of the rest of the Battalion. Lord Lovat had landed on the Lofoten Islands and many German prisoners had been taken as well as destroying much of the seal oil used to produce glycerine. Their aeroplanes would suffer as a result. It was a vital part of the cooling systems of the fighters. It was a boost akin to winning the FA Cup. We had not been with Lord Lovat but we had trained with these men and they were like our brothers. Their victory was our victory.

  Even as we were celebrating Quarter Master Sergeant Grant gave me a warning, "We just received some new equipment, Tom; shorts and lightweight summer gear. Some poor sods are going to get their knees brown."

  He was proved right. I was summoned, along with Gordy, to a meeting in the Headquarters building. This time there was no one else but the Sergeant Major present. "Take a seat lads, Major Foster and Lieutenant Marsden will be along in a moment."

  "What's it about Sergeant Major?"

  He shook his head, "I thought you knew me better than that Sergeant Harsker. All in good time. What I will say is that you and your section were asked for. It seems that your name is becoming known in Whitehall." He straightened his blotter a fraction. "And I think you will miss your meeting with the King too." He smiled enigmatically.

  The door opened and the two officers entered laden with papers and maps. We jumped to our feet. "Sit down chaps. We have a great deal to get through."

  Lieutenant Marsden began to pin a map up. He was doing it badly. Sergeant Major Dean tutted and said, "Let me sir!"

  I saw that it was a map of the Mediterranean. That explained the desert clothing and equipment which were now in the stores.

  The Major smiled, "Smoke if you wish." Gordy was the only smoker and he lit up. "As you may know General O'Connor had almost defeated the Italians in Libya when the Greek thing started. He was sent back to Cairo before the job could be finished. Herr Hitler sent troops to Tunisia and Libya. They have pushed us back to here." He pointed to a line about seventy miles from the Egyptian border. "It is called the Gazala line. General Auchinleck thinks he can hold the Germans there until we can send more tanks, fighters, and men to him. The Germans are also short of tanks. Now, ordinarily this would not be of any concern to us save that the Germans have captured some of our senior officers who were in the forward areas when the German advance began. General Carter and two of his staff officers are being held in German Headquarters at El Agheila." He pointed to a coastal town some hundred miles behind the German front lines. "The town was in our hands just before the attack. It was considered captured." He sat down, "Your job is to go and get them out."

  This was Gordy's first such meeting and I could see that he wanted to say something but felt out of his depth. I asked for him, "Sir, by the time we get to Africa they could have been moved; sent back to Germany, anything."

  "If you were going by sea then that would be true but you are leaving tonight, by air. At Gibraltar you will transfer to a modified bomber. You will go in by parachute. By this time tomorrow you will be there. If they have been moved it will be damned unlucky. I know it is a tall order but you were asked for as a section. Lieutenant Marsden will be the officer who will lead."

  I turned and saw the eager look on the Lieutenant's face. "I am sure we can do it, Sergeant."

  "How do we get out, sir? As we have found out before getting in is easy but getting our can be a trifle difficult."

  I saw the Major take a deep breath. "You will need to steal a vehicle. You are to drive out across the desert. Your skills as a sailor and a pilot will help you, Tom, and Lieutenant Marsden has done desert training. The hard part is stealing a vehicle." He smiled, "We did it in France and it worked out well eh?"

  I didn't point out that it had been an accident. We would have to find and steal one without being detected.

  "Sir?"

  "Yes Corporal?"

  "Won’t there be guards and such?"

  "The Headquarters is in an old colonial hotel, the 'Antiqua Roma'. It is on the outskirts of the town. The RAF flew over it and they say there
are about twenty people there. That includes clerks as well as soldiers. They have vehicles there too." He added as though it would be simplicity itself to steal one.

  I stood and went to the maps. One showed the building the prisoners were being held in while the other showed the route to safety. "Sir, do we have to stick to this route back to our own lines?"

  "Well no, Sergeant, but this is a route which has been produced by great minds and it will be Lieutenant Marsden's decision to deviate."

  "Sir, with respect, I am not certain what a bunch of officers with a little bit of red around their collar tucked away in London know about sneaking around behind enemy lines. We both know that you have to be flexible."

  Lieutenant Marsden said, "It sounds like you have got cold feet, Sergeant Harsker. Don't you want to go?"

  "It is not up to me is it sir? But I want a chance to get out of this alive rather than being a glorious gesture. I have a good section and it would be stupid to throw it away because of a decision made in London. All I want to know is do we have flexibility? Suppose we find a boat we can steal? Would that be an option? What if it is close to an airfield and we can steal an aeroplane? All I am saying is that this road is the only one, apart from the coast road and it may well be swarming with Germans and Italians. If it is we would have to go a different way."

  I had stunned the two officers although I saw a wry smile on the Sergeant Major's face. Lieutenant Marsden reddened, "Well I am a little disappointed, Harsker. I thought this would have been right up your street. Isn’t this how you got your medal?"

  That was it! The Lieutenant was glory hunting. "Sir, I got my medal by doing my job. I didn't set out to win one. As far as I am concerned I don't need medals to do the job I do."

  The silence in the room made everyone but the Sergeant Major uncomfortable. He still had a smile upon his face. That surprised me for my attitude was not, necessarily, what they had all expected. Major Foster broke the silence. "Your section has the best chance of succeeding Sergeant Harsker. If it were otherwise I would send another section. If you have to deviate then that will be Lieutenant Marsden's decision. Is that clear?"

  I stood, "Of course sir and if that is all the men need preparing and I daresay we have new equipment and ammunition waiting for us."

  The Major nodded and Sergeant Major Dean said, "Sergeant Grant has it waiting for you. Report back here when you and your section are equipped."

  As we left Gordy said, "That wasn't like you Sarge. What is the problem?"

  "You mean apart from the fact that we have to break into German Headquarters, rescue high ranking prisoners, steal a vehicle, and then make our way across the desert?"

  "Put together that does sound a tough one. But we can do it."

  "Of course we can. But we need to be flexible and I am not certain that Lieutenant Marsden has enough experience yet. We have not fought with him up to now. I think he has only been on one raid. If it was Major Foster then I would be more than happy. He has a cool head under pressure." I shrugged, "We follow orders and do as we are told. Go and fetch the lads. I will be at the QM stores."

  What had really made me so irritable was that the Lieutenant suddenly looked and sounded like the Hooray Henrys who had been at the Officer Training Course in Manchester. What would he be like under pressure? I put that to the back of my mind as I entered the stores. "You were right Daddy. We are the lucky boys who are off to sunnier climes."

  He nodded, "I knew before. I have packed a bag for each of you lads to make it easier. There are extra canteens too and dried rations. You have enough for a week. There is twice as much ammo and grenades for you." He shook his head. "I wouldn't like to carry that lot around with me in heat."

  "Luckily we don’t have too much walking to do."

  "And there are spare canteens and salt tablets in every pack. You will need those. I stuck a couple of little petrol stoves in too. They are light and all you need is to steal some petrol."

  "Stealing petrol is the least of our worries, Daddy."

  "You don’t seem happy about this Tom."

  "You know me; for King and Country and all that. It's just that we have an unknown quantity with us this time; Lieutenant Marsden."

  "We had the same problem with Lieutenant Reed and he proved to be a good 'un."

  "You might be right. We will have to see."

  There was a noise outside as the section came in. "What's up Sarge? Gordy told us bugger all!"

  "And I will tell you precisely the same Private Curtis. Pick up a bag each, get your weapons from the armoury and meet me at the headquarters."

  Private Moore asked, "Where are we off to?"

  "When we are in the lorry I will tell you Private now cut along will you?"

  The Major and Lieutenant Marsden walked in after the section had left. Daddy said, "Here you are, sir. Everything that you will need."

  He grabbed his bag and left without a word. He was tight lipped. I hefted my Bergen as Major Foster said, "Give us a moment eh, Sergeant Grant." Daddy nodded and, taking his pipe went out of the back door. "Look, Tom I know what it is. You are worried about the Lieutenant but I can assure you he has received top marks in everything."

  I nodded, "I think he will be a great officer sir but for this one I would have hoped for someone with more experience." I hesitated, "Like you."

  "Thank you for that compliment. I would love to be there but I have to prepare the rest of the troop for another big raid. We are stretched at the minute."

  "I see sir. Well in that case I am sorry for my attitude back there." I tapped the stripes, "Perhaps you ought to take these sir. Maybe I'm not cut out for this."

  "You are and all that you said was understandable. I am relying on you to guide the Lieutenant. You will be a fine team. He is new but he is bright as they come and he will adapt. I did. Lieutenant Reed did. You are the most experienced sergeant we have and that is why you were chosen for this. If anyone can get them out it is your section." He looked at his watch. "You had better push off now."

  The rest of the section was in the lorry as I arrived with my guns and Bergen. The Lieutenant was seated in the front with the driver. Sergeant Major Dean nodded, "You look after them, Sergeant. All of them!" he nodded towards the cab.

  "Will do Sergeant Major."

  I dumped my bag in the bottom of the lorry and took a seat at the back close to the tailgate. It was the least smoky part of the lorry. I took off my beret; I would be leaving that with the rest of my kit. "Right lads, we are moving now so I can brief you. We are going to Africa."

  I let that settle in. There was a buzz of conversation. I saw money changing hands. They had been gambling. "This will not be easy so pay attention. We are going to fly to Gib and change aircraft. We are going to parachute behind enemy lines and rescue some high ranking officers from German Headquarters. Then we steal a vehicle and drive over four hundred miles through the desert to reach British lines."

  I let that sink in. Private Moore broke the silence, "You are having a laugh ain't you, Sarge?"

  Gordy shook his head, "No me old cock! He is not."

  "There will be guards there, that is obvious and I daresay we will be extremely lucky if we are able to avoid having to use our guns but I want us as silent as we can be and delay the inevitable. Curtis, we have no explosives to worry about but I know that we can improvise some booby traps when we are there. The biggest problem, as I see it, is stealing the vehicle."

  George Lowe said slowly, "If it is any help, sir I was four years into a mechanic's apprenticeship before the war. I can fix most vehicles."

  I clapped him on the back. "That is the best news I have had all day. As of now, Lowe, you are in charge of all things mechanical!" The young man beamed.

  Bill Becket said, "What is going to be a problem sir is the water. Or should I say lack of it as well as dehydration."

  "We have salt tablets in the packs and we need to conserve water whenever we can."

  "We will spend the time in
Gib going over the maps. Aeroplanes are a bit noisy and, besides, I think we all need to try to get some sleep if we can."

  We pulled up less than ten minutes after I had finished speaking. The flap opened and a seaman said, "Right this way gents." I saw that we were not at an airbase but by the sea. We were going in a seaplane. I saw the huge Short Sunderland bobbing up and down on the water. I worked out that we must be in Southampton Water.

  "Quick as you can, sir. The pilot wants to get off as soon as he can." The airman pointed to a Nissen hut. "You can change into your gear over there if you like. We have been ordered to send your kit back to your base in the lorry."

  We went into the hut and all began to strip off and put on the shorts and tropical gear. It was chilly but when we reached North Africa then the temperature would soar. I was pleased to see that the Lieutenant was not self conscious about changing with us.

  I used one of the spare bags and held it open. "Right lads, letters, documents and anything incriminating in here. If we are caught it is name rank and serial number." They all deposited their items in the bag. I handed it to the airman. "Make sure this is safe eh?"

  "Will do Sergeant. Right lads time to board."

  We waited for the Lieutenant to lead us aboard. The young lieutenant who was the pilot greeted us cheerily. "Good show! Cloak and Dagger eh? Makes a change from stooging around looking for damned U-Boats. Get aboard and next stop Gibraltar. It should take eight hours or so. You have time for a sleep and my chaps will have some hot food for you too. We have beds and a galley! First class service!"

  His crew were equally cheerful. The interior of the huge aeroplane actually had a couple of bunks. It would certainly be more comfortable than a Whitley. The Short Sunderland was positively luxurious compared with the Whitley and was much quieter. The take off was barely noticeable. We saw little of the crew for the first few hours. The gunners were all in their turrets for we were flying, in daylight, close to the coast of France.