Part 13 (1/2)
”I soon found out that the Germans frequented the estaminet; and, what was more to the point--luck again, mark you--that the gunners who ran the battery I was out after almost lived there. When the battery was at Tournai they had mighty little to do, and they did it, with some skill, round the beer in her big room.
”I suppose you know what my plan was. The next time that battery left Tournai I proposed to cut one of the metals on the bridge over the River Scheldt, just in front of the engine, so close that the driver couldn't stop, and so derail the locomotive. I calculated that if I cut the outside rail--the one nearest the parapet wall--the f.l.a.n.g.e on the inner wheel would prevent the engine turning inwards. That would merely cause delay, but very possibly no more. I hoped, on the contrary, to turn it outwards towards the wall, through which it would crash, dragging after it with any luck the whole train of guns.
”That being the general idea, so to speak, I wandered off one day to see the bridge. As I expected, it was guarded, but by somewhat indifferent-looking Huns--evidently only lines of communication troops.
For all that, I hadn't an idea how I was going to do it. Still, luck, always luck; the more you buffet her the better she treats you.
”One week after I got there I heard the battery was going out: and they were going out that night. As a matter of fact, that hadn't occurred to me before--the fact of them moving by night, but it suited me down to the ground. It appeared they were timed to leave at midnight, which meant they'd cross the bridge about a quarter or half past. And so at nine that evening I pushed gently off and wandered bridgewards.
”Then the fun began. I was challenged, and, having answered thickly, I pretended to be drunk. The sentry, poor devil, wasn't a bad fellow, and I had some cold sausage and beer. And very soon a gurgling noise p.r.o.nounced the fact that he found my beer good.
”It was then I hit him on the base of his skull with a bit of gas-pipe.
That sentry will never drink beer again.” Brent frowned. ”A nasty blow, a dirty blow, but a necessary blow.” He shrugged his shoulders and then went on.
”I took off his top-coat and put it on. I put on his hat and took his rifle and rolled him down the embankment into a bush. Then I resumed his beat. Discipline was a bit lax on that bridge, I'm glad to say; unless you pulled your relief out of bed no one else was likely to do it for you. As you may guess, I did not do much pulling.
”I was using two slabs of gun-cotton to make sure--firing them electrically. I had two dry-cells and two coils of fine wire for the leads. The cells would fire a No. 13 Detonator through thirty yards of those leads--and that thirty yards just enabled me to stand clear of the bridge. It took me twenty minutes to fix it up, and then I had to wait.
”By gad, old boy, you've called me a cool bird; you should have seen me during that wait. I was trembling like a child with excitement: everything had gone so marvellously. And for the first time in the whole show it dawned on me that not only was there a chance of getting away afterwards, but that I actually wanted to. Before that moment I'd a.s.sumed on the certainty of being killed.”
For a moment he looked curiously in front of him, and a slight smile lurked round the corners of his mouth. Then suddenly, and apropos of nothing, he remarked, ”Kathleen Goring tea'd with me yesterday. Of course, it was largely due to that d.a.m.ned orange-skin, but I--er--did not pa.s.s a sleepless night.”
Which I took to be indicative of a state of mind induced by the rind of that nutritious fruit, rather than any reference to his broken leg. For when a man has pa.s.sed unscathed through parachute descents and little things like that, only to lose badly on points to a piece of peel, his sense of humour gets a jog in a crucial place. And a sense of humour is fatal to the hopeless, undying pa.s.sion. It is almost as fatal, in fact, as a hiccough at the wrong moment.
”It was just about half-past twelve that the train came along. I was standing by the end of the bridge, with my overcoat and rifle showing in the faint light of the moon. The engine-driver waved his arm and shouted something in greeting and I waved back. Then I took the one free lead and waited until the engine was past me. I could see the first of the guns, just coming abreast, and at that moment I connected up with the battery in my pocket. Two slabs of gun-cotton make a noise, as you know, and just as the engine reached the charge, a sheet of flame seemed to leap from underneath the front wheels. The driver hadn't time to do a thing--the engine had left the rails before he knew what had happened.
And then things moved. In my wildest moments I had never expected such a success. The engine crashed through the parapet wall and hung for a moment in s.p.a.ce. Then it fell downward into the water, and by the mercy of Allah the couplings held. The first two guns followed it, through the gap it had made, and then the others overturned with the pull before they got there, smas.h.i.+ng down the wall the whole way along. Every single gun went wallop into the Scheldt--to say nothing of two pa.s.senger carriages containing the gunners and their officers. The whole thing was over in five seconds; and you can put your s.h.i.+rt on it that before the last gun hit the water yours truly had cast away his regalia of office and was legging it like a two-year-old back to the veuve Dema.s.siet and Tournai. It struck me that bridge might shortly become an unhealthy spot.”
Jim Brent laughed. ”It did. I had to stop on with the old lady for two or three days in case she might be suspected owing to my sudden departure--and things hummed. They shot the feldwebel in charge of the guard; they shot every sentry; they shot everybody they could think of; but--they never even suspected me. I went out and had a look next day, the day I think that R.F.C. man spotted and reported the damage. Two of the guns were only fit for turning into hairpins, and the other four looked very like the morning after.
”Then, after I'd waited a couple of days, I said good-bye to the old dear and trekked off towards the Dutch frontier, gaining immense popularity, old son, by describing the accident to all the soldiers I met.
”That's all, I think. I had words with a sentry at the frontier, but I put it across him with his own bundook. Then I wandered to our Amba.s.sador, and sailed for England in due course. And--er--that's that.”
Such is the tale of Jim Brent's V.C. There only remains for me to give the wording of his official report on the matter.
”I have the honour to report,” it ran, ”that at midnight on the 25th ult., I successfully derailed the train conveying six guns of calibre estimated at about 9-inch, each mounted on a railway truck. The engine, followed by the guns, departed from sight in about five seconds, and fell through a drop of some sixty feet into the River Scheldt from the bridge just west of Tournai. The gunners and officers--who were in two coaches in rear--were also killed. Only one seemed aware that there was danger, and he, owing to his bulk, was unable to get out of the door of his carriage. He was, I think, in command. I investigated the damage next day when the military authorities were a little calmer, and beg to state that I do not consider the guns have been improved by their immersion. One, at least, has disappeared in the mud. A large number of Germans who had no connection with this affair have, I am glad to report, since been shot for it.
”I regret that I am unable to report in person, but I am at present in hospital with a broken leg, sustained by my inadvertently stepping on a piece of orange-peel, which escaped my notice owing to its remarkable similarity to the surrounding terrain. This similarity was doubtless due to the dirt on the orange-peel.”
Which, I may say, should not be taken as a model for official reports by the uninitiated.
CHAPTER VI
RETRIBUTION
On the Promenade facing the Casino at Monte Carlo two men were seated smoking. The Riviera season was at its height, and pa.s.sing to and fro in front of them were the usual crowd of well-dressed idlers, who make up the society of that delectable, if expensive, resort. Now and again a casual acquaintance would saunter by, to be greeted with a smile from one, and a curt nod from the other, who, with his eyes fixed on the steps in front of him, seemed oblivious of all else.