away.” Said the priest, he filled a pipe with tobacco as he spoke.
“Some of my parishioners are barge men, I will if you wish, go and see if I can get them to take you in, at least for some of the way, it will probably be the safest way for you to travel.”
He lit the pipe and filled the tomb with the smell of his tobacco, which was pungent and sickly. None of us complained it was I suppose technically, his tomb. After he had spoken for a while longer, during which he had relit the pipe several times, we were glad to see the pipe, if not him, bid us farewell. Ronny watched him go down the path still carrying the shoulder bag. He turned left out of the gate and headed off in the direction we had come from, going back towards the canal.
After he had gone we made a meal of the things he had bought us and drank the cider, we then settled down for another snooze. Ronny gave me a prod with his rifle from across the space between us and nodded towards Fishy. Who, overcome at last by fatigue and no doubt helped by the cider, had finally nodded off on the steps, so speaking quietly, we organised a guard of sorts, changing every couple of hours, using the top two shelves, in order that we could watch through the slits in both sides of the tomb.
I had slept for a couple of hours, when Jack woke me to take my turn on watch. He told me that they had seen the priest come back after an hour or so but he had gone straight to the church, not even glancing at the tomb as he had approached. Well we could do no more than wait for him to let us know the outcome when he felt it was time.
If he did not come back by dark then we would set out on our own again.
Outside it was a pleasant, late spring day, it was warm and sunny, from my limited viewpoint, I watched as the shadows cast by the gravestones started to lengthen.
“Hello” said Ronny, who was looking out in the other direction, “come and have a look at this Bomb.” I climbed down from my shelf and back up again on the other side to join Ronny.
“Where am I looking then?” I asked. “Over there just to the right of the entrance, can you see him?”
“Oh yes I can see him alright, blimey what’s he think he’s doing?”
We watched as a figure, dressed in what from this distance appeared to be British officers uniform, sat with his back to the wall and lit a cigarette.
“Oh that’s great!” I said to no one in particular, “if he doesn’t get himself caught he’s going to bring Jerry down on top of the rest of us.”
Ronny asked if he should go and get him, but I told him to wait there and wake the others while I tried to get over to him without being seen. I took my rifle and Fishy, who was by now awake again, opened the door for me. Cautiously I put my head out and looked up and down the path. For the time being it was clear, I took the broken lock off the gate, shoved it into my pocket, ran across the path and ducked down behind a couple of biggish grave stones. Keeping up this pattern of looking around and moving a few yards at a time between the stones I eventually got to within a few yards of him.
“Sir” I shouted, not knowing what else to call him, although now that I was closer to him I could tell that he was a Captain. I raised myself slightly above the stone and beckoned for him to come over to where I was, incredibly he stood up picked up a small case that was by his side and simply strolled the short distance to where I was hidden.
“Get down Sir please” I said “someone may see us”.
“Jolly good show corporal have you been sent to find me?” he said stooping down next to me
“Er not exactly Sir Can you stay down and follow me we need to get out of view Sir if you don’t mind” I said and set off back to the tomb.
I looked behind pleased to see that he was at least following but doing so almost standing up; I had to get him inside for all our sakes.
Fishy opened the door and I gave him the lock which he put back onto the gate
“Some of my parishioners are barge men, I will if you wish, go and see if I can get them to take you in, at least for some of the way, it will probably be the safest way for you to travel.”
He lit the pipe and filled the tomb with the smell of his tobacco, which was pungent and sickly. None of us complained it was I suppose technically, his tomb. After he had spoken for a while longer, during which he had relit the pipe several times, we were glad to see the pipe, if not him, bid us farewell. Ronny watched him go down the path still carrying the shoulder bag. He turned left out of the gate and headed off in the direction we had come from, going back towards the canal.
After he had gone we made a meal of the things he had bought us and drank the cider, we then settled down for another snooze. Ronny gave me a prod with his rifle from across the space between us and nodded towards Fishy. Who, overcome at last by fatigue and no doubt helped by the cider, had finally nodded off on the steps, so speaking quietly, we organised a guard of sorts, changing every couple of hours, using the top two shelves, in order that we could watch through the slits in both sides of the tomb.
I had slept for a couple of hours, when Jack woke me to take my turn on watch. He told me that they had seen the priest come back after an hour or so but he had gone straight to the church, not even glancing at the tomb as he had approached. Well we could do no more than wait for him to let us know the outcome when he felt it was time.
If he did not come back by dark then we would set out on our own again.
Outside it was a pleasant, late spring day, it was warm and sunny, from my limited viewpoint, I watched as the shadows cast by the gravestones started to lengthen.
“Hello” said Ronny, who was looking out in the other direction, “come and have a look at this Bomb.” I climbed down from my shelf and back up again on the other side to join Ronny.
“Where am I looking then?” I asked. “Over there just to the right of the entrance, can you see him?”
“Oh yes I can see him alright, blimey what’s he think he’s doing?”
We watched as a figure, dressed in what from this distance appeared to be British officers uniform, sat with his back to the wall and lit a cigarette.
“Oh that’s great!” I said to no one in particular, “if he doesn’t get himself caught he’s going to bring Jerry down on top of the rest of us.”
Ronny asked if he should go and get him, but I told him to wait there and wake the others while I tried to get over to him without being seen. I took my rifle and Fishy, who was by now awake again, opened the door for me. Cautiously I put my head out and looked up and down the path. For the time being it was clear, I took the broken lock off the gate, shoved it into my pocket, ran across the path and ducked down behind a couple of biggish grave stones. Keeping up this pattern of looking around and moving a few yards at a time between the stones I eventually got to within a few yards of him.
“Sir” I shouted, not knowing what else to call him, although now that I was closer to him I could tell that he was a Captain. I raised myself slightly above the stone and beckoned for him to come over to where I was, incredibly he stood up picked up a small case that was by his side and simply strolled the short distance to where I was hidden.
“Get down Sir please” I said “someone may see us”.
“Jolly good show corporal have you been sent to find me?” he said stooping down next to me
“Er not exactly Sir Can you stay down and follow me we need to get out of view Sir if you don’t mind” I said and set off back to the tomb.
I looked behind pleased to see that he was at least following but doing so almost standing up; I had to get him inside for all our sakes.
Fishy opened the door and I gave him the lock which he put back onto the gate
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