Eleven Eleven - By Paul Dowswell Page 0,48

hesitant French. ‘Je suis Americaine. Je parle un peu de alemaine, comprene?’

Enough of them understood that. There was rapid chatter among them and they backed off again. The atmosphere grew more relaxed. Within a couple of minutes, to Will’s complete amazement, some of the men returned with bread and some sort of coffee, which they gave to Eddie and Will – pointedly ignoring Axel.

‘Can’t say I blame them,’ said Eddie to Will in English, as he handed Axel a hunk of bread and offered him his coffee to sip. ‘They’ve been occupied for the last four years. They’re bound to be feeling hostile.’ His breathing was laboured and his pale face was covered with a thin film of sweat.

‘We need to get you some proper medical attention,’ Will said to Eddie.

‘I think we should sit tight here, until someone from our own side arrives,’ said Eddie. The food and drink had lifted his spirits. ‘I’m going to be all right, although I’m not sure I’m up to moving right now. I don’t think the Germans will be coming back for this . . .’ He gestured to the equipment that littered the square. ‘I’d say we should tell Axel here to get back to his unit, if he can.’

‘But as soon as he’s out of our sight the lynch mob will get him,’ said Will.

Eddie spoke again in German. ‘You stay here, Kamerad. You’re safe with us.’

Axel showed no sign of wanting to do anything else. Will could see his hands were shaking as he ate the bread Eddie had given him. ‘Danke,’ he said.

They waited, anxiously, as a few more people emerged from buildings and gathered in the square. The town was coming back to life. Mostly the civilians kept their distance, but a few eyed Axel with hostility.

‘What will happen to me now?’ he asked Eddie.

‘Wait till our soldiers arrive,’ said Eddie. ‘I guess you’ll be marched to the rear as a prisoner. Sent to a camp, I suppose.’

Axel didn’t like the sound of that. If the war really was over, he wanted to get back to his family. But he knew he couldn’t risk heading off on his own.

A few minutes later they noticed a khaki-clad figure peering carefully around a building at the edge of the square. The helmet he wore was instantly recognisable. Will shouted loudly, waving his arms. ‘Will Franklin, King’s Own!’

The man grinned and waved back. Several other soldiers appeared. ‘You’re safe now,’ said Will to Axel, as Eddie translated. ‘I’ll make sure our lads treat you right.’ He ran off to talk to the new arrivals.

A minute later he returned with a British soldier. He was dressed the same as any other only he had a white armband with a red cross on it and carried a hefty bag full of medical equipment. ‘This one’s got bad shrapnel wounds in the legs,’ said Will, as he pointed to Eddie.

The man wiped his eyes with exhaustion and ran a hand along the side of his face, as if trying to keep himself awake. He did not acknowledge Axel at all. ‘You don’t look too good yourself?,?’ he said to Will. ‘Do you want me to look at that head wound?’

Will knew how awful he must look. He was covered in mud and blood, especially around his face. But he also knew it was not serious. ‘It’s just a bit of bleeding. Looks worse than it is.’

The man examined Eddie, then took Will to one side. ‘Find another blanket to keep him warm. And get something to raise his legs up. We need to get him in an ambulance as soon as possible. He’s got a bullet in the thigh as well as all those shrapnel wounds. We’ll get him cleaned up. Get some blood back into him. So keep him talking. It’s important that he stays conscious.’

Will dashed off at once, and soon returned with two backpacks and another blanket from the pile left by the retreating German troops. The medical orderly had gone.

As Will wrapped the blanket around Eddie, Axel saw another bunch of soldiers arrive in the square. These ones, he quickly noticed, wore the same shoulder badges as Will. The one with a lion under the words ‘The King’s Own’. He said something and Eddie translated. ‘Your comrades have arrived.’

Will looked up to see familiar faces. All at once he felt a surge of excitement and ran over to ask if his brother was with them.

‘Haven’t seen the sergeant since