With hands tied tightly behind his back, Andy is roughly escorted by the German agents in the direction of the bunker. A number of times he is used as a punching bag for the fun of his two captors. “I have rights you know,” demanded Andy. To bouts of laughter he received a rifle barrel jabbed into his lower back. Andy let out a cry of pain, which the agents thought equally amusing. As they approached the rear of the bunker, another man helped usher Andy through a rear entrance door.
“This way,” said one of the agents, pushing Andy hard along the narrow passage. They stopped at a doorway leading to a room on the left side of the passageway. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke wafted from the room.
“Ah, what have we here?” said a gruff voice from within.
“We caught him at the farm, my Captain,” replied one of the men.
“Send the spy in and empty his pockets,” ordered Krause. Andy was jostled into the room and stood silently facing the Captain while he was searched. The Captain stubbed the last of his cigarette into a half-filled Bakelite ashtray and slid it to the side. Some paperwork and random sketches that are scattered on the table are collected up and also placed to one side.
“I’m … I’m not a spy,” said Andy innocently.
An assortment of items was laid out on the table in front of the Captain. Most items were trivial including a handkerchief, comb, a few coins and an unwrapped lemon-coloured fruit drop which Titch had given him, and not forgetting a crumbling piece of bread. But the item that the Captain immediately seized upon was Andy’s mobile cell phone. Krause flipped open the phone and proceeded to play with the buttons. “Interesting contraption wouldn’t you say?” he asked, staring intensely at Andy.
“Uh … it’s just a toy,” replied Andy, not sounding too convincing.
“Toy, eh … well I have never seen a toy with this level of miniaturisation”, said Krause as he plied the phones options. “Ah, what do we have here?” Krause held the phone up for Andy and the two agents to see. “It is a spy camera - and here is the proof.” Clearly visible in the display was a photo of the signal box that Andy had taken earlier that day.
“It’s not mine – I found it,” said Andy hopefully.
“That’s what they all say,” replied the Captain with a wry grin. “However, I’m the first to admit that you don’t look Chinese.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Why are you working for the Chinese … and what allegiances would the communists be having with England?” asked Krause now with a look of serious anticipation.
“I’m not working for anybody … I still go to school,” said Andy trying his best to mislead his interrogator.
“You are a spy. What do you men think?” Krause asked the others. They both agreed with the Captain which didn’t surprise Andy. “This … camera says it is made in China … so I want to know the truth,” shouted Krause.
Andy gulped. He knew he was in real trouble and had to think fast. “Okay, I will tell you the truth,” he surrendered.
“If you lie anymore to me … you will be shot.” Krause smirked as he placed a luger on the table in front of him. Andy could feel beads of sweat building on his forehead.
“I’m a scout for the Pembroke Times newspaper. I was following up reports of missing persons in the area when I accidently stumbled across this hidden installation. My father is in the spice trade and bought me that camera in Shanghai when he was there last month.” Andy tried to look sincere.
“So you are a reporter. Did you come alone?”
“Um … yes.”
“I see,” said Krause. “Do you think anyone will come looking for you?”
“Oh yes,” Andy lied, “I said I was going to start looking at the nearby farm.”
“What was the name of that farm?” asked Krause.
“Um … It was a funny name. I don’t seem to recall it right now,” said Andy acting in a thinking pose.
“Shame you can’t remember.” Krause toyed with his pistol.
“It was … it was … um …” Andy fumbled for a likely name.
Krause picked up his gun and waved it at Andy. “Take him away. Throw him in the pit. Maybe he will talk after a little solitude.” Andy was marched out of the room with his hands still tied behind his back.
Andy was led back out of the bunker and directed to walk down a narrow path almost enclosed by dense gorse bushes on either side. ”Where are you taking me?” queried Andy.
“Shut up.” Andy received another backhand across the back of his head for his question. He aptly decided to keep quiet and concentrate on his footing. One of the men shone a torch on the path which made visibility a little easier. The moon broke free of its clouded chains and shone filtered moonlight between gaps in the adjacent towering trees. They had travelled only about 40 metres when Andy was ordered to stop. An overhanging rock formation was plainly visible to the left of the path. One of the men headed under the rock and disappeared into a recess of some sort. He quickly reappeared and waved for them to join him. Andy felt the cold barrel of the rifle steer him in that direction and now feared that they were going to shoot him right here. Andy was somewhat surprised and a little relieved to discover that the recess was actually the entrance to an old mine. He was coaxed further along a slightly downwards sloping path.
Part of the mine was exposed to the sky, which allowed moonlight to illuminate the path. Andy noticed there were a number of deep pits on the right side of the path. At the third pit he was ordered to stop. One of the men looked over the edge of the pit and shone his torch. He turned to the other and commented, “Ja, this will do,” whilst letting his grasp of the English language slip a little. The other man picked up a rope ladder lying nearby and let it unfold into the pit. It was locked into place by two metal spikes sticking up at the edge of the hole. The man with the torch pulled a pistol from his belt whilst the other man untied the rope from around Andy’s hands. Andy felt an enormous relief to be free of his bonds and rubbed each wrist in sequence to ease pain. “Climb down,” instructed the armed man. Andy hesitated as he looked into the pit. “If you don’t hurry I will push you in … now go.” Andy quickly got onto his hands and knees and then carefully placed a foot onto a rung as he held tightly onto the metal spikes. Slowly he descended into the pit. As he reached the bottom, the torch was pointed directly into his face. “Now stand back,” he was ordered. Andy took a number of steps back. The rope ladder was instantly pulled up and within moments he was left alone in the dark. He must have stood in the darkness for thirty minutes staring up the opening, before resigning to the fact that he was probably here for the night and might as well make the best of it. He moved some small stones and lay on his side and surprisingly quickly succumbed to sleep.
Tuesday 1 May, 1945
Andy suddenly awoke from his uncomfortable sleep to the sound of a steam engine’s whistle, followed shortly after by the clanking of rail wagons as the buffers clashed together. The chuff-chuff sounds of a steam engine echoed down into the pit. Thankfully, he thought, he still had his wristwatch. Whether it was the correct time or not was probably irrelevant – but he believed it anyway. It displayed 7.35am. Through the opening above he could see the light-blue sky, clear of any clouds. In his mind he replayed the events of the train ride and of meeting Kaz and the others. Then there was that weird horseman that stole Dave’s bag, and finally culminating in being transported to some other time where Germans were invading Britain. It all seemed so bizarre. The chug-chug of the steam engine once again caught his attention. It definitely sounds like a railway engine leaving the bunker, he thought.
Krause had left Corporal Fritz in charge at the bunker, having ridden on the engine to accompany the bomb to the mainline junction at Llanporth Halt. Fritz was left to organise the raiding party to free the POWs at the Castlemartin Camp. Fritz watched as the engine with a rail van attached, negotiated a slight curve and then disappeared from view, with the smoke from the steam engine quickly dissipating. He retreated into the room which Krause used as his command post. Grabbing a bottle of red wine from off the side-cupboard, he sat down in the Captain’s chair, lit up a cigarette and then put both feet up on the table. Quite relaxed, he laid back in the chair, taking a swig from the bottle between puffs.
Meanwhile, Andy was trying to find any means of a way out of the pit. He estimated the pit was at least five metres deep, which it itself made escaping a tad difficult. The limestone walls were aged and hard and were quite smooth. Andy tried his hand at climbing up the wall, but without the use of any tools his attempts were futile. As the sun rose higher in the sky, more light brightened up his dungeon. Scattered about the pit floor was an assortment of rubbish and rusty cans. Andy found a 40cm length of broken broom handle, which he found useful in digging about on the pit floor. He started at one side and starting prodding and digging at anything that looked useful. After digging up an additional number of rusty cans, he moved closer to the centre of the pit. Here the earth was more friable and he was able to dig a little deeper. His digging implement hit something hard and Andy believed it was a round stone, so he dug around it. Kneeling over it, he eventually he was able to get his hand down around the stone and found some holes where he could pull at it. It came away much easier than he had anticipated and he fell backwards onto his bottom, with a human skull being held through the eye sockets in his right hand. He jumped with horror and flung the skull across the pit floor. He sat motionless as he looked at the hole, and then at the skull, and then back to the hole. He repeated this process for quite some time.