Scorched Earth - Robert Muchamore Page 0,1

any train will run on time. Especially one that’s come all the way from Hanover.’

As Luc spoke, Paul slid canvas straps off his badly-chafed shoulders and moaned with relief as his pack settled in the undergrowth. An exploratory finger under the shirt collar came out bloody, but there was no time for first aid.

After unbuckling the pack, Paul took out two grubby cloth sacks. They seemed to be half full of potatoes, but the uneven lumps were plastic explosive, linked with detonator cord like a string of giant Christmas lights.

Paul looked at Michel. ‘Remember what Henderson said. The weakest part of the tunnel is around the mouth, so pack plenty around there.’

As Luc and Michel each grabbed one of Paul’s sacks and slung it over their shoulders alongside their own heavy packs, Paul looked at Daniel and tried to sound upbeat. ‘Ready to hike?’

The brothers quickly hugged, then Luc gave Daniel his binoculars before leading Michel along the side of the valley.

‘You break those and I’ll break you,’ Luc warned.

As there was no guard, Luc and Michel faced an easy journey down to the tunnel mouth using uneven steps carved into the chalkstone. When they reached the mouth, their task was to unravel the chains of explosive along the tunnel’s 300-metre length and retreat to a safe distance, ready to trigger them.

Meantime, Paul and Daniel had to find a vantage point atop the forested hill through which the tunnel cut. Once in position, they had to identify their target: a 600-metre-long cargo train carrying twenty Tiger II tanks, dozens of 88-mm artillery guns and enough spare parts and ammunition to keep the 108th Heavy Panzer Battalion functioning for several weeks.

Since handing over the explosives, the weight of Paul’s pack had dropped from 30 kilos to less than four. The bread, cheese and apples that had spent the night at the bottom were squashed, but the two lads scoffed eagerly and shared a canteen of milk as they followed a track to the top of the hill.

Two trains steamed south through the tunnel as they walked and Paul was glad to be up here in fresh air, rather than laying explosives along the dank, soot-filled tunnel.

‘Hope they’re OK,’ Daniel said warily, as he eyed plumes of smoke billowing from either end of the tunnel.

‘You have to keep low and put a wet cloth over your face,’ Paul said. ‘It’s not fun, but they’ll survive.’

Daniel stopped worrying when he found a bend in the narrow footpath, and spotted another marker from Luc’s recon trip. The dense forest made trainspotting hopeless from ground level, but Luc said he’d climbed to a position where he could see trains approaching along several kilometres of snaking track.

The eleven-year-old wasn’t just along for the ride. Growing up in Paris, Daniel had earned a reputation as a daredevil, clambering over rooftops, diving off bridges and breaking both arms when he’d leapt between two balconies for a dare. After joining the Maquis in the woods north of Paris, Daniel made a name for himself as a forest lookout, able to climb branches too slim to hold an adult’s weight.

‘I’ll have to lose all this gear,’ Daniel said. ‘Put it in your pack in case we need to make a quick getaway.’

Paul didn’t like taking orders from an eleven-year-old, but Daniel was a good kid and he watched the youngster pull off his boots and strip down to a stocky frame, clad in grotty vest and undershorts. Regular climbing had toughened Daniel’s skin and he looked more ape than human as he launched himself into the branches with Luc’s binoculars swinging from his neck.

‘Careful,’ Paul warned, as Daniel vanished into the leafy canopy, becoming nothing but rustling sounds and occasional shifts in the early sunlight.

Paul burrowed down his pack and found the phosphorous grenade he’d use to warn Luc and Michel when they spotted their target. Twenty metres up, Daniel swung his leg over a fork, clamped the thick branch between his thighs and wiped a palm smeared in bird crap down the front of his vest.

‘Slippery, but the view’s great,’ Daniel said, happy with himself as he stared over the treetops at fields, villages and a clear view of the railway tracks approaching both ends of the tunnel. ‘Why don’t you hop up and join me?’

Note

1 Osttruppen – German soldiers recruited from occupied countries such as Russia, Ukraine and Poland. Most volunteered to avoid starvation in labour camps. Osttruppen were regarded as poor soldiers and were usually given lowly

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