The following morning Dawson was rudely awakened by someone shaking him roughly by the shoulder.
‘Wake up, Eddie. Officer wants to talk to you.’
‘Bugger,’ Dawson muttered. ‘What time is it?’
‘Dunno, mate. About seven, I think.’
Dawson rubbed his eyes and staggered to his feet. He quickly pulled on his clothes and stepped out of the tent. A few yards away, Lieutenant Charnforth stood waiting, the sergeant alongside him.
‘Morning, sir,’ Dawson mumbled, whipping off a salute that wasn’t anything like as crisp as it should have been.
‘Morning. When I met Major Sykes, he told me you were a demolition specialist. Is that true?’
Dawson nodded. ‘Yes, sir, sort of. My job in civvy street included demolition.’
‘And you are qualified in mine-clearance?’
Again Dawson nodded.
‘Good. I’ve just had a request from the French commander in this area. As I suggested when I briefed everyone yesterday evening, they do need a sapper to assist with clearing the mines the Germans have laid in the Warndt Forest.’
‘Don’t they have their own people, sir?’
Lieutenant Charnforth nodded. ‘Of course, but this operation, this invasion of German territory, was mounted at very short notice. They have their own specialists on the way, but they won’t get here for at least two or three days. As far as I can gather, you’re the only qualified sapper anywhere near this area at the moment.’
‘To shift the mines,’ Dawson pointed out, ‘I’ll need specialist equipment that I haven’t got here. I’d like a detector to help find them, and then explosives – something like RDX – to blow the buggers up, if there’s no way of making them safe. And there should be two of us involved – one to locate and remove the mine, the other taking notes and watching.’
The lieutenant nodded. ‘I realize that. There’s a truck arriving here some time today or tomorrow latest from Cherbourg. It should be carrying everything you want, and there’s another sapper driving it, so there will be two of you to do the work.’
That sounded better, Dawson thought. ‘So when do I start, sir?’
‘As soon as the truck gets here. I just needed your confirmation that you’re able to do the work, so that I can tell the French. Once the lorry’s here, I’ll brief the two of you, then you can head east.’
Twenty minutes later Dawson had washed and shaved and was sitting on a fallen log, his mess tin half-full of a brown mass predominantly consisting of beans. He spooned the food into his mouth without any particular enthusiasm as he contemplated the unpleasant prospect of mine clearance for real.
He’d done the job often enough back in England, on Salisbury Plain and other training grounds, but that was in an exercise scenario, where the ‘minefield’ was clearly laid out in front of you, marked by pegs or stakes and tape, where you knew how many deactivated mines there were to be located and what type. And, of course, where there were specialist observers watching every move, able to stop proceedings with a single order or a blast from a whistle if things started going wrong. But here in the Warndt Forest, actually inside German territory, there would be no observers, no markings to show the extent of the minefield, no safety precautions at all. If he got it wrong, Dawson knew, he’d probably lose his legs, or even his life.
It wasn’t a prospect that did anything to improve his appetite, and he threw away the last few mouthfuls of his breakfast, then washed away the taste of what he’d been eating with a mug of strong tea.
The promised lorry arrived just after four thirty that afternoon, and the first person Dawson saw when he walked across to meet it was Dave Watson, climbing out of the cab of the vehicle.
‘Dave!’
Watson spun round, then his face broke into a smile. ‘Bloody hell, Eddie, you get around, mate, don’t you? I thought you’d buggered off with that major you told me about. What are you doing here?’
‘Long story. I’ve spent the last few days driving all over the bloody place, but now I’m stuck here. When did you get to France?’
‘We got in to Cherbourg yesterday, and I was ordered over here straight away, because of this French advance. I suppose they’ve found a minefield?’
’You got that right.’
Dawson explained what he knew about the German advance towards Saarbrücken, and the problem of the Warndt Forest.
‘So the bloody Frogs want us to shift mines for them? Fucking typical.’
Dawson grinned, though frankly there wasn’t much about the situation that was humorous.
At that moment, Lieutenant Charnforth walked around the corner, spotted Dawson talking to Watson and strode over to them.
‘Right,’ he began, as he returned the salutes of the two soldiers. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked, looking at Watson.
‘Watson, sir, David Watson.’
‘And you’re qualified in mine-clearance, like Dawson here?’
‘Yes, sir. I’ve done the course, anyway.’
‘Good. Now, both of you come with me.’
The lieutenant led the way towards the officers’ tents, which stood a short distance away from those occupied by the soldiers. He crossed over to the largest of these, opened up the flap on the end, ducked down and stepped inside, Dawson and Watson following behind him. At one end was a large vertical board on which was pinned a large-scale map of the area, covered in various coloured markings and with numerous different-coloured pins stuck into it.
Charnforth picked up a pointer and turned to face the map. ‘Right,’ he began, ‘this is the situation. We’re based just here, on the outskirts of Dalstein, about ten miles from the German border. This’ – his pointer traced a meandering line that ran more or less from the north-west to the south-east – ‘is the frontier between France and Germany. Further over to the east, in fact about fifteen or sixteen miles almost due east of where we are standing right now, is the town of Saarlouis. There are several towns and villages running in a line alongside the River Saar from Saarlouis down to the south-east, finishing up here at Saarbrücken.
‘That town is the stated objective of the present French advance, but their forces are still quite some distance away, probably four or five miles at least. In fact, although the French have advanced on a broad front, the depth of their penetration into German territory is quite shallow, probably only about a mile in most cases and up to a maximum of five miles. They’ve reportedly captured about twenty villages that had already been evacuated by the German army, and they’ve met almost no resistance.’
‘Major Sykes told me about the Siegfried Line, sir,’ Dawson said. ‘Have the French reached it yet? Is that why they haven’t been able to advance any further?’
The lieutenant shook his head. ‘You mean the Westwall, Dawson. No, I don’t think the French forces have got anything like that far. In fact, the main Westwall defences in this region are located to the east of Saarbrücken itself. I gather you’ve seen some of the Maginot Line forts?’
‘Just the one, sir, up at Lille, but it was pretty old and basic and dated from the Great War, so it wasn’t really a part of the Maginot Line proper. The major told me the main Maginot Line forts are actually quite impressive.’
‘They are, but I still don’t think they’ll stop a German advance. The Westwall defences were built for a similar purpose to those of the Maginot Line, but probably not as well. The majority of the French cloches are well designed and capable of accommodating heavy weapons, but we don’t think that most of the Westwall forts are anything like as strong.’
Lieutenant Charnforth turned back to the map. ‘As I said, the French forces have been making fairly slow progress, but they have now established a presence here.’ His pointer circled an area marked in green on the map, lying just to the east of a town called Creutzwald-la-Croix. ‘This is part of the Warndt Forest. As you can see, this area is heavily wooded, but it’s important from a strategic point of view, because any major advance in this sector would have to pass through it. The Germans have heavily mined the forest, and that’s why the French want you to go in there.’
The lieutenant turned to look at Watson. ‘Did you bring all the equipment you need?’
The sapper nodded. ‘Yes, sir. Everything’s in the back of the truck.’
‘Right. You’ll be going into the forest first thing tomorrow morning, with six of my men as an escort. There’ll be a group of French soldiers waiting there to show you which sections they need clearing. Any problems, send one of the soldiers back here with the truck. Finally, do either of you speak French?’
Dawson and Watson both shook their heads.
Lieutenant Charnforth smiled. ‘I’m not surprised, but it shouldn’t matter. A lot of the French officers speak a bit of English, and what you’re doing won’t require too much conversation. One of the soldiers I’ll be sending with you speaks some French. All you have to do is clear a path through the forest where the French tell you to. Now, any questions?’
‘No, sir,’ Dawson said. ‘We’ll just need to check out the gear, then we’re ready.’