The Way Ahead by Mary Jane Staples Read Free Book Online Page B

then?’ asked Polly, wincing.
    ‘It won’t make good listening for Gemma and James, Polly. Yes, it’s grim, but it doesn’t directly affect you and me, or our cherubs. Hang on until they’re in bed.’

Chapter Six
    EVENING. GEMMA AND James were in bed, sound asleep after a long, exciting day. Boots and Polly were seated in armchairs in the living-room that was bright with pretty chintzes. The owner of the cottage, a sweet old lady now living with her widowed sister in Taunton, had made a pretty thing of the cottage as a whole.
    Boots recounted the events that had brought him back to England. The prolonged battle for Monte Cassino, defended in depth by the Germans, who held all positions of advantage, had been savage, the Allied casualties heavy. One day, Boots and his Corps Commander, Lieutenant-General Montrose, together with a Captain Francis, also on the staff, were driving back to headquarters after a consultation with unit commanders at the front. They slowed to edge a way past a truck containing Germans taken prisoner. A British sergeant in charge of the escort jumped down from the cab and ran to hail the staff car. Lieutenant-General Montrose ordered his driver to stop, although the sky was being repeatedly invaded by German fighters and Stukas.
    The sergeant, noting the pennant on the car and the presence of a general, saluted and said, ‘Sergeant Rogers, Middlesex Regiment, sir. Permission to have a word, sir?’
    ‘Make it a quick one, Sergeant Rogers, and it had better be worth my while,’ said Montrose.
    ‘Yessir, right, sir,’ said Sergeant Rogers. The noise of gunfire to the north-east was a persistent low drumming on every ear. ‘It’s like this. We’ve got a corporal among these here prisoners, and he’s raving, sir.’
    ‘Raving?’ said Montrose.
    ‘Like bloody hell he is, sir, and in good English, all about what Himmler’s SS are doing to Jewish people, according to his brother, who’s an SS sergeant. He’s shell-shocked, so it’s all coming out like he’s on his deathbed, poor bleeder.’ The sergeant, grimy-faced and battle-worn, was blunt. ‘He’s been gabbing on about some concentration camp in Poland, called Auschwitz, and about what his brother has told him the SS are doing to Jews there. Bloody flaming murder, sir, they’re gassing them by the thousand and burning the bodies.’
    ‘Sergeant, are you sure you haven’t been listening to the ravings of a lunatic?’ asked Montrose.
    ‘Sir, we’ve all heard rumours, but I’m believing I’ve been listening to facts. Gassing the poor bleeders and then burning them down to their bones, right, yes, that does take some believing. It’s bloody horrible, and it’s not all, it seems there’s other camps where the SS are doing the same thing, so the prisoner says. It’s my opinion, sir, that my best bet is to hand him over to you. Well, what he’s got coming out of his mouth is information of a kind special to my way of thinking, and he ought to be taken care of as a special case.’ A case for Intelligence, thought Boots. ‘He’s up in the cab, he’s been sitting between me and Corporal Harris, the driver. That’s for his own safety. The other prisoners, fourteen of ’em, jumped him as soon as he started to open his mouth to me. Well, it was all coming out in German, and they were getting earfuls of it and not liking it. I had to order the escort to use rifle butts on the buggers. Then he started to talk to me in English, so I had him out of the truck, and a bit later, up in the cab. Corporal Harris is holding on to him right now.’
    ‘Sergeant Rogers, are you serious?’ asked Montrose.
    ‘Too bloody true I am, sir. I’ve got this feeling it’s no fairy story. Permission, sir, on account of the nature of the information, to place prisoner in your charge?’
    Montrose, seated with Boots in the back of the car, said, ‘Get him down, Sergeant Rogers, bring him here.’
    The German corporal, helmetless and ashen-faced,