I had never been in a submarine before and I didn't realise how cramped they were. We were taken down the forward hatch. The leading seaman said, "Wounded man, sir."
I heard a cultured voice say, "Take him to the sick bay attendant. Get a move on chaps, let's not over stay our welcome eh?"
There was a dim red light when we entered the Stygian depths of the torpedo room. The dinghy was manhandled into the sub and then the hatch was closed.
"Hatch secure."
A voice came through the internal tannoy. "Diving!"
There was no sound of an engine but I was aware that we were moving. One of the sailors handed me a blanket, "Here you are Army. We'll have some cocoa once we get under way." He nodded to the red light. "That will change to white soon enough. It looks like a brothel in Lime Street like this don't it?"
The cheerful sailor wandered off. I looked around for Daddy and saw that he had been whisked off. There was just Gordy and me. The other sailor who remained was deflating the dinghy. "Where are the others?"
"They have been taken to the mess. I'll take you once the captain gives the all clear." He nodded to the ceiling, "It will soon be daylight and I reckon the sea will be swarming with Krauts."
Gordy asked, "How was the Sarge?"
"He was hit twice and there was a ton of blood. Still he will be better off here than on the beach." I tried to sound confident but mum had told me of the effects of a couple of bullets. Uncle Lumpy had lost a forearm and hand because of a German bullet. I prayed that we would have a speedy trip back to Blighty. Daddy needed a hospital.
I put my hands to my ears as we began to descend. They hurt. The seaman said, "Hold your nose, close your mouth and blow hard."
I did as he suggested and the pressure eased slightly. Gordy asked, "How do you cope with being in this steel coffin?"
"You get used to it. I take it you don’t like confined spaces?"
Gordy shook his head, "Can't stand them."
"Me, see I was a miner. I could have had exemption, been a Bevin Boy but I wanted to do my bit. My granddad died in the Great War and… well it suits me." He finished tying off the deflated dinghy and said, "Follow me and watch your heads."
He led us through the narrow boat. It was so tight that you could not pass someone coming the other way. One of you had to duck into a side cabin. When we reached the mess the seaman said, "There you are. Door to door service eh?"
Major Foster pushed over two mugs of cocoa. "You two did well. Shame about the Sergeant."
"How is he sir?"
The Major shook his head, "I am not sure. The SBA has stopped the bleeding and given him something for the pain. He is sedated but he needs a doctor. The Captain is heading for the nearest port rather than taking us to Weymouth." I nodded. It was not the best news but it was not the worst. "However I am not certain he can continue in the Commandos." He shrugged, "We will have to see."
Poor Daddy would be mortified if he had to leave.
I realised, as the Major turned to speak with Sergeant Greely, that they had been in the middle of a debrief. "So when you were cut off you headed for Calais."
"Yes sir. There were about thirty of us left and we heard that they were getting them off from there but we got there too late. We joined up with the Highland Division. When they were surrounded about two hundred of us broke out and headed towards the Loire. Another rumour said there was going to be a landing there. We got as far as Brest and we were trapped. We had no food; the ammo had all gone and some of the lads were in a bad way."
"How did you end up at St. Nazaire?"
"One day some lorries arrived, Waffen SS and they took us to that camp you saw. We have been building submarine pens." I saw the Major start. That was as important a piece of intelligence as anything else we had gathered.
"Was there any damage to either the dock or the basin after the bombing?"
Harry shook his head, "A bit of cosmetic damage that was all. The concrete is thick." He looked at the Major, "Was that what you were doing? Thinking about blowing it up?"
"No Sergeant but we had to find out if the new German battleships could use it to repair. They obviously can."
"I don’t think there is a bomb big enough to blow it up, sir and those pens are impregnable. They have been pouring concrete for weeks."
"Why the trouble today, sergeant?"
"Last week we had a new colonel arrive. The other one was a bastard but this new one, Colonel Erhart, had a murderous streak." He shook his head and looked to the other two for confirmation.
One of them said, "Some of the lads were, well a bit careless with their work. It was our way of still doing our bit. The old Colonel had the lads beaten. This one had the man shot and the two who were working near him. We had to stop our sloppy work. Then he began beatings if he thought we weren't working hard enough. Fifteen men have died in the last six days. Some of the boys decided to make a break for it this morning. They thought they had nothing to lose. The four of them were shot and then the Colonel had the other men from their hut shot too. We had had enough."
Sergeant Greely took up the story. "We were already planning on breaking out but when you lads shot the guards at the gate and blew up the house every goon in the camp ran to see what was going on. It was too good an opportunity and we jumped the goons in our hut and legged it. There were ten of us started out. The others were either shot or captured. Then we found you."
"And I am glad you did. I shall write this down before I forget it." he began to write out what Harry had told him.
I put down my empty cup and Harry said, "What happened to you?" I told him the story including Nev's death and the SS we had met. He nodded, "I reckon the only good German is a dead German. From now on I shoot every bastard first and ask questions later!" The war did that. It made mild mannered, reasonable men into killers who hated. I suppose I was in that category. I had slit enough throats and shot enough Germans now to be labelled as a cold blooded killer.
It took most of the day to sneak across the sea. We surfaced just off Southsea and sailed into Portsmouth. The captain had radioed ahead and there was an ambulance waiting to take Daddy off to hospital. As I stepped ashore I viewed the sailors on the submarine with a new found respect. I could never do what they had done. We had had a reasonably incident free voyage and yet I had been wringing with sweat the whole way; it had been fear for I had been truly terrified.
Harry and his two companions were whisked away. I gave Harry my parent's address. He wanted to keep in touch. We had both lost so many comrades that we clung on to those we still had. Writing to me at the base would be hard. We moved around too much. It was midnight before Sergeant Major Dean arrived with a lorry. I sat in the back with Gordy and Ken. When we were alone we spoke of the mission. We had come closer to death more times than in any other raid and yet all of us were still excited about what we did. I think that was what made us Commandos.
"Who do you reckon will replace Daddy?"
"Who says he has to be replaced? He has a wound that is all." I did not want to contemplate my friend being out of the war.
"But Corp, did you not hear the Major? He reckoned he wouldn't be able to continue. I mean his arm and his shoulder were a mess. Suppose he is holding a rope with you on the end of it; would you trust his shoulder to hold?"
I had had the same doubts myself but I owed Daddy a great deal. "Let's just wait and see. I will run the section until he gets back."
"Unless they stick someone else in charge." Gordy's cheery thought kept us silent all the way back to Weymouth. The other two actually fell asleep but I had too much racing through my mind.
Reg Dean came around to the back and lifted the flap. He shook his head, "A pair of sleeping beauties eh Corporal?" He gestured with his thumb. "I can drop you here at your digs. You can leave your guns in the lorry. I will see to them for you."
I jumped down with my Bergen. "Thanks Sarn't Major."
He nodded, "And don't worry about Grant. Even if he can’t fight there will always be a place for him in the Commandos. I reckon you will be in charge until someone makes a decision." He tied the flap in place. "And well done, son. From what Major Foster told me you saved the mission more than once." He nodded, "See you at noon eh? The Major wants a debrief."
Such praise was better than a medal and I walked up to my room with a spring in my step. The rest of the lads were asleep and there was no hot water for a bath and so I stripped and rolled into my bed. Despite my exhaustion sleep would not come. Sergeant Greely's reappearance had set me thinking about dad. Mum was right; Randolph Marshall would have told mum if he had been wounded or was busy or whatever. The silence meant he was hiding something. Was he missing in action? Had he been sent behind the enemy lines and disappeared? He had done that sort of thing after the Great War but then he was much younger. I must have fallen asleep eventually but my dreams were filled with haunting images of my dad being shot by Waffen SS.
Mrs Burgess, who ran the boarding house, had heard me come in and, when I awoke, she greeted me with the news that there was hot water for a bath. She had forbidden anyone else from taking it. She said that I would need it. Mr Burgess ruled the guest house with an iron hand. The rest of my section might be in the dark about my whereabouts. The other sections would not have a clue where we had been sent. I might have been behind enemy lines but Mrs Burgess knew I had been in danger and she watched out for me. A hot bath was a luxury she would ensure I enjoyed.
I reached the troop headquarters at eleven. I picked up my guns from the armoury and went to clean them. I still had the Luger I had taken from the Feldwebel. I had not needed it but it would come in handy some day. I also retained the German fatigue cap. One never knew when one would need it. It was eleven forty five when I was satisfied with my weapons and I returned the Colt and the machine gun to the armoury. I headed for the office.
Gordy and Ken ran to catch up with me. "I slept the sleep of the dead last night."
"Me too Gordy. Hey do you think that we had too much carbon dioxide on that sub?"
I looked at Ken, "I don't think so. They have filters and gauges. The sailors survive don't they?"
"I suppose. I would rather jump out of an aeroplane any day."
Gordy shook his head, "The Corporal here nearly bought it, remember? He barely got out of that Whitley."
Ken was a fatalist, "If your time is up then there you go."
I shook my head, "You don’t give up. Even if you think your number is up you keep fighting. Daddy is still fighting isn’t he?"
"I dunno. Have you heard owt?"
Shaking my head I said, "The Sergeant Major will keep us up to speed."
Major Foster was already there along with the Lieutenant Commander and Reg Dean. For the life of me I couldn't remember the officer's name. He looked to be a happy chap.
"Well done you fellows! You exceeded our expectations! That news about the submarine pens was top drawer stuff."
The Major shook his head, "Right lads. I will go through my draft report. If I miss anything out just shout out. Don't be shy!"
When he had finished he said, "Well?"
The other two shook their heads. I said, "There is that information that the prisoners of war gave us. That we don’t have a bomb big enough to blow it up."
The Lieutenant Commander said, "I wouldn't say that. The boffins are working on some extraordinary stuff you know."
Ignoring his fatuous comment I added, "I think the weak point for both the basin and the dock is the gates. If you damaged the basin gates then submarines couldn't get out and if you destroyed the dock gates then they couldn't use it as a dry dock. The gates have to be made of wood and metal and have a mechanism. That would be how I would attack it. Less loss of life that way."
The Lieutenant Commander stood, "Thank you for your comments, Corporal, but I am sure that the powers that be will have whole panels of great minds working on the solution to this problem." His patronising tone really annoyed me. It was the fact that I was not an officer which coloured his judgement about my comments. The Major was not like that and he valued comments from all of his men, regardless of rank.
As he shook Major Foster's hand Sergeant Major Dean said, to no one in particular, "The difference is that those great minds are sat on their arses in an office somewhere sipping tea. They haven't actually seen the place like these lads."
Major Foster said, "Sergeant Major!"
"Just passing a comment sir." He smiled at the naval officer, "I'll just get your driver eh sir?"
The two of them left and Major Foster said, "I agree with you Corporal Harsker. I will be sending a report to Lord Lovat and another to Combined Operations Headquarters. I will add that piece of information. Someone might take notice. Right you two lads cut along and find the rest of your section. I believe they are on the range. I want a word with Corporal Harsker here."
When they had gone the Major reached into his desk and took out an envelope. "This arrived the day after we left. Congratulations, Tom, you have been awarded the Military Medal."
The Sergeant Major returned and he shook my hand, "You deserve it laddie. Well done."
"Thank you sir but I didn't do anything special."
"Don't be modest. You behaved impeccably. To be honest you deserve a medal for this last little jaunt too. You are supposed to go to London to receive it next month. However our schedule means that you may not actually make that date."
"It doesn't matter sir. I am just grateful for the honour."
"And now, Sergeant Major?"
Sergeant Major Dean went to his drawer and took out a pair of sergeant's stripes, "Congratulations Corporal Harsker. You are now Sergeant Harsker. You take over Sergeant Grant's section until he is fit to return to duty."
"Thank you both. I don't know what to say."
"I do. When you were in St. Nazaire you made some confident decisions. To be frank, Tom, I don't know why you aren't an officer. You are a born leader. I saw that in Belgium and I have not changed my mind since then. If you don't end the war as an officer then I will eat my hat." Major Foster stood and held his hand out. "I daresay you will want to go and sort out your section. I know Jack Johnson will have done his best but they are your lads now."
I went to the range where, rather than firing, Gordy and Ken were telling both sections about our adventures. They all looked at me as I approached. It was the kind of look that says they had been talking about me. Jack said, "Don't worry about Daddy, Tom. He's a tough customer. He'll pull through."
"I know."
"And I take it they are leaving the section with you?"
"They are," I held up the sergeant's stripes, "Sorry Corporal Higgins; you are still playing catch up!"
To be fair to Sean he was delighted, "I am dead pleased for you Tom, er Sergeant. And from what the lads have been telling us you fully deserve it."
I nodded, "And now, with your permission, Sergeant Johnson, I will take my section for a five mile run." I turned, "Right, you shower, full kit and meet me at headquarters. You have five minutes!"
They had not lost their edge and the run went well. I felt proud of them as they stood smartly to attention at the end of it. For the next five days I worked them as hard as I could and I never saw the slightest dissension nor heard a single grumble. On the sixth day we were at the firing range where we were taking it in turns to shoot with Gordy's newly acquired rifle. Sergeant Major Dean walked over.
"Right lads, gather around. This concerns all of you. Sergeant Grant is being discharged from hospital." Everyone cheered. Sergeant Major Dean held up his hands, "However he will have to have some rehabilitation and physiotherapy." I sensed he had not brought us good news. "The MO has said that he will never be fit enough to be able to operate as a fighting Commando." It felt like the heart had been ripped from us all. "However there is good news. The Quarter Master Sergeant, as you all know, operated his own little systems. He thought he had a cushy little number. Major Foster has returned him to his regiment and, when he is fit, Sergeant Grant will be the new Quarter Master Sergeant. Major Foster spoke to him personally and he is happy with the appointment." He glowered at everyone, "So no sulking!" He turned to me, "Sergeant, a word if you please."
I wandered back towards the Headquarters. "You will need a new Corporal. Who do you have in mind?" He held up a warning finger, "Bearing in mind that I have an idea in my head and that agrees with the idea in Major Foster's. So with that in mind who would you pick?"
Without hesitation I said, "No argument. Private Barker. He is a natural leader, the men like him and he doesn't panic. "
The grin told me I had chosen correctly. "Then you can tell him." He handed me the stripes. "You will get a replacement for Barker by the end of the month."
I went back to the others. I decided to just tell Gordy simply, "Here you are Corporal Barker, your new stripes! You can buy me a pint tonight to celebrate!"
That evening as I was walking to the pub to meet the other sergeants I stopped at a red telephone box. I had written a letter to mum telling her of my promotion and the medal but I needed to speak with her. I wanted to ask her about dad and I couldn't wait for a letter to reach her and then return. One perk of dad's job was that the Air Ministry had had a telephone put into our home. It was a luxury and I would take advantage of it.
Mum's voice was full of worry when I rang. It told me that she had not yet received my letter, "What's wrong, Tom!"
"Nothing Mum, can't I ring home now and then?"
"As this is the first time since you left University that you have just rung to chat I will let that pass. It is good to hear from you. You weren't in Portsmouth the other day when they had that awful air raid were you?"
"No mum, nowhere near. I have some news. I am now a sergeant and they have awarded me the Military Medal."
She let out a squeal of joy, "How wonderful! I can’t wait to tell your father."
My heart skipped a beat, "Have you heard from him then?"
There was a pause, "No I forgot for the moment but I am certain that he will be home soon."
"Any more news from Uncle Randolph?"
"No and I was told that he had moved departments."
That sounded ominous and I could hear, in mum's voice, that she was getting upset. I changed the subject and asked about Mary and Aunty Alice. By the time my money had run out she appeared a little more cheerful. I, on the other hand, was not. However I remembered dad telling me, once, that you left your personal feelings and worries behind when you took command. I vowed to do the same and, as I bounced into the pub I was a different man. My smile did not reflect the fears I felt.