Crusader (A Novel of WWII Tank Warfare), Jack Murray [top romance novels .txt] 📗

He and Aston walked in silence towards the tank. Both were stilltoo much in shock from the morning to speak. Aston glanced at Danny. Heremembered the cocky soldier from a few months previously. Not so cocky now areyou, son? thought Aston. They arrived at the tank which was being refuelled andreplenished with ammunition.

The tank was in a pitiful state. The dents, the dust and the senseof death hung over it. Aston stared at it in silence and wondered how the hellthey’d escaped the carnage.

‘Listen up, men,’ said Aston, ‘This is Shaw. He’s our loader now.You can introduce yourselves in the tank. Is it ready yet?’

Twenty minutes later, just enough time for Danny to gulp down asmuch water as he could and grab some biscuits, the tank was ready to leave.They climbed into the Crusader. It looked identical to the one Danny hadrecently vacated feet first, unconscious. The men were familiar to him havingplayed football with them before.

‘Shaw, this is Stone, our gunner,’ said Aston, ‘Shaw, you takeorders from these men until I say so.’

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Danny. He eyed Stone who grinned and held outhis hand. Stone then indicated the men behind him.

‘That’s Dave Bennett on the wireless and Alex Wilson our driver.’

Danny quickly shook hands before Wilson moved to crank up the tankfor moving out. Ten minutes later they were on the move again. The smell offumes and men was no different from the previous tank, yet Danny felt like hewas in an alien land. After five months with the other men, this was different.

He’d had no time to grieve for his tank mates. But a feeling ofdesolation hit him now. Although he’d never had much time for Holmes, thethought of how he’d met his end was distressing. The loss of Reed affected him particularly.There had been a quiet certainty about the sergeant that Danny had admired.There was no more competent soldier than Reed. None braver. Yet nothing couldhave saved him. The insanity of what they’d undertaken was laid bare.

As he looked around the tank, he saw Stone looking at him. Therewas a shrewdness to the Londoner that made Danny feel like he was an open book.He felt wary at first. Then Stone spoke.

‘Sorry about your mates. Can’t be easy.’

Danny nodded. It wasn’t easy.

‘Reed was a good man. The captain,’ said Stone, glancing upwardstowards Aston, ‘tried to get him in his tank six months ago but Lister wasn’thaving it. He promoted him and gave him his own tank instead.’

Danny noted that Stone didn’t say ‘Lieutenant-Colonel’. It wasjust Lister. This didn’t feel right, but he said nothing. He’d heard stories ofthe insubordinate nature of this tank crew. They took their lead from the tankcommander. A part of him felt uncomfortable about such an attitude of defiance.He believed in the command structure of the army. Why else would he ride intobattle fully aware of the risks involved? However, another part of himquestioned what they were doing. Riding into enemy gunfire seemed no moreintelligent now than it had when his father had watched friends and comradeswalking to their death in a hail of machine gun fire.

‘He was a good man,’ confirmed Danny, at last.

No one in the tank felt like talking. This suited Danny. He wasn’tin the mood to get to know his new comrades. It was possible he would bereassigned to a new tank, anyway. On first acquaintance, they were a surlybunch. There was a sly look about the gunner, Stone, that was the opposite ofHolmes. He knew Holmes didn’t like him. He made no attempt to hide this. To befair, Holmes liked no one so Danny was not a special case.

Craig was a cynic. He woke up cynical and went to bed secure inthe knowledge he was right to be so. However, like Holmes, Danny always felt heknew where he stood. Charlie Felton was more open because he was in the sameplace as Danny. New, inexperienced and not trusted.

The men in this tank seemed more guarded. They usually keptthemselves to themselves in camp. Collectively they had the same cynicism asCraig but without the dry humour that accompanied it. Danny concluded from thisthat his best policy was to keep his head down and do his job while avoidingconversation which showed dissent with any senior officer.

The radio crackled and Danny heard Longworth’s voice over theairwaves.

‘Longworth here. Report positions.’

Aston’s reply was off air and off colour, but it made the men inthe tank smile, Danny included. He looked at Aston again and had to admit therewas a charisma about the man, a certain devil-may-care aura. Although Reed hadnever said as much, he knew the sergeant didn’t have time for Aston.Separately, Danny had heard he was a bit of bellyacher. Yet here he was, albeitinside twenty tons of metal, ready to face German gunfire.

And the German gunfire started again and did not stop for theduration of the afternoon. The radio was their lifeline to what was happeningin the world outside, yet the story was confused. The exasperation in Aston’svoice was all too clear as he sought to make sense of a battle which was aschaotic as any he’d ever experienced.

‘What’s happening, sir?’ asked Danny as there was a brief lull inthe barrage.

Aston was on the point of providing an unsympathetic and briefresponse to the question when he saw the rest of the men looking his way. Heheld his natural inclination in check and gave the best summary he could on hislimited understanding.

Danny smiled at this and found himself warming to the aristocraticcaptain. The situation was ghastly, no question. But something of the captain’sacerbity was comforting. Aston’s face, like all of them, was caked in sand.They were dirty, tired and more than a little bit frightened by the shellsraining down on them. But Aston’s summary of the situation helped, oddly, instaving off the sense of displacement they had sitting in a tank.

‘Listen up,’ said Aston. ‘As you may have gathered it’s all a bitof a mess. I don’t think Campbell knows what’s happening; I suspect Gott andDavy even less.