Waving the bottle in the air he shouted to the men, “Faster! To the river, I want a swim!”
The driver, a scrawny looking Russian couldn’t hear the shouts. This wasn’t the first time Steiner had been out for one of these joyrides; it was the only use they had found for most of the French equipment they had been equipped with. There was certainly no combat use for these vehicles; they had been waiting for useable ammunition for over a month now. The only things they did have were flares and a small amount of fuel. They also had orders to ensure all the vehicles were fully operational and tested every day. This was supposed to mean that each day, at an allotted time the tanks and trucks would have their engines started. They were then run for twenty minutes to blow out the filth and junk and to make sure that when the time came they could drive somewhere more useful. Steiner in the meantime had found a much more effective way to warm up the engines!
He looked ahead; the tank hadn’t increased in speed. He turned back and looked behind them, seeing just the dark lane. He took another swig from the bottle and gulped it down. He then leaned over to one of the other soldiers who was hanging onto the tank and reminded him via a tap on the head from his wine bottle. The short looking Russian turned to him. The man was even scruffier looking than Steiner. He wore no jacket and his shirt half open revealing skin to the night sky. The man leaned down inside shouting and prodding the driver. On top of the tank Steiner relaxed, enjoying the feeling of power as he sat on the war machine, brandishing his bottle. It could be a lot worse he reasoned.
Unfortunately for Steiner, the driver didn’t react in as calm as manner as he might have hoped. Inside the tank it was hot and noisy and driving the tank took substantial effort. The driver, who was busy squinting ahead to follow the narrow lane was instead surprised by the tapping on his shoulder. He jumped at the unexpected contact and ended up releasing one of the levers that controlled the power to one of the tracks. The tank immediately slewed to the side, the one track effectively acting like a massive iron anchor on the heavy vehicle. This dragging effect moved them off the road and directly into the path of a dry stone wall. Though the driver quickly released the other lever the change of the direction couldn’t be avoided. The mass and power of the tank simply ploughed the vehicle through the wall until it came to rest against a piece of farm equipment.
Steiner was immediately thrown from the tank, his wine bottle following him. He had no clue as to what was happening as he sailed through the air. Before he could even consider what was going on he hit the ground with a heavy thump that sent a shock of pain up through his body. Incredibly he was still conscious, he shook his head and then moved his hand to his side. It was bruised and hurting but he slowly lifted himself up into a sitting position, forcing open his eyes he could see the tank wedged into the wall. He looked at his hands, spotting the neck of the wine bottle still there. Scanning around where he’d landed he spotted the wine bottle, or what was left of it, smashed on the ground around him.
“Shit!” he muttered as he looked at all that was left of the bottle, then passed out, dropping back to the ground.
* * *
With the loud smashing sound coming from the lane the two girls forced themselves down to the ground, as low as they could get. Adrienne popped up slowly, spotting the crashed tank quickly. She lowered herself down, whispering to Madeleine.
“They’ve crashed...I can’t see anybody moving...let’s keep going.”
Madeleine nodded in acknowledgement. There was a faint sound coming from the area of the tank, it sounded like the steam hissing. The girls ignored it and continued onwards. Climbing quickly over the gate they were now out of sight of the vehicle. With the tree line on one side and the lane to the other they walked quickly to the houses in the distance. As they approached they moved into the trees following a lightly used trail. This path took them slightly away from the houses and towards a thickly wooded area. As the wood thickened the houses and lane disappeared. This area was well known to the girls, it was where they had played for years. They ran past some stone ruins, part of a collapsed tower. There was little left other than the lower level and heaps of rubble, the telltale signs of its collapse perhaps centuries earlier. Moving on the girls reached a part of the wood where the trees thinned out. A light flashed ahead.
“Down!” called Adrienne, immediately taking charge.
They moved into the shadows as they carefully watched the area near the light. The light flashed once, then three times, then once more.
“It’s okay, that’s the signal, answer it.”
Madeleine nodded and then proceeded to pull out a flashlight. Pointing it in the direction of the light she flashed a different sequence. Almost immediately it was answered with a three, two, one signal.
“Let’s go,” ordered Adrienne.
The girls went forwards cautiously, watching to their sides and occasionally behind them as they approached. With both sets of lights off it was now possible to make out the shapes of two people, one a man, the other not so clear. A little further and they were close enough to see. The tall man was in his fifties and wore a thick coat, a hat and had a stick. The younger man next to him was short and scrawny and was carry a bag on his shoulder.
“Adrienne,” called the tall man, “you had us worried, you should have been here twenty minutes ago.”
Adrienne stood before him, looking taken aback.
“Look at this,” she spoke, handing him her notebook, “the Germans have brought extra men and also these vehicles.”
The man looked at the notebook, especially the images of the tanks. He turned to the younger man to examine the contents.
“The Germans have been bringing in large numbers of these trucks, something is going on,” she said.
He looked again at the picture of the tank, “Do these look familiar François?” he asked.
François looked carefully at the illustrations. He spoke directly at Adrienne.
“Were they marked exactly as you’ve drawn?”
She nodded.
Turning back to the older man, François exclaimed, “If these are accurate they are definitely some of our infantry tanks, probably captured when these bastards first came here!”
“François!” voiced the older man. He was firm but keeping his voice low, to avoid any additional attention. “Watch your language,” he added.
“Sorry Pierre,” he responded.
They stood quietly for a moment as the men continued their examination. François took out a book from his knapsack, it contained diagrams and silhouettes of vehicles. After comparing the images for a while Pierre was convinced.