The Darkest Hour Read Online Free PDF Page A

the two Germans watching.
    All he noticed was a few curtains flicking open, then closing just as quickly. It seemed everyone was turning a blind eye and things were going to go quietly.
    His forehead stung from the head butt and he gingerly touched it before sucking on the cigarette again.
    The Jews were squeezed onto the back of the trucks, with canvas sheets eventually rolled down to cover the cargo from prying eyes, out of sight and out of mind.
    Rossett waved four policemen across to him.
    “You guard the back and front of the house, and don’t let anyone in till I come back, understand?”
    “Does that include the Germans, Sarge?”
    “That includes Hitler; no one goes in there till I get back.”
    Two broke away to make their way around to the rear while the others stepped into the hallway out of the rain.
    “Outside,” said Rossett. “Nobody goes in, including you.”
    The bobbies stepped out and pulled what was left of the door closed behind them. As the trucks fired up, Rossett nodded to the uniformed sergeant.
    “Get half of your lads in the empty wagon; follow us down to the rail yard. I’ll need them to help load the train.”
    The sergeant nodded, looking almost shell-shocked, then took a deep breath and started issuing orders as Rossett walked back to his car. He’d almost made it when he heard Koehler call his name. When he turned, he saw the two Germans walking toward him.
    “Well done, Sergeant. An excellent operation.” Schmitt was smiling now. He held out his hand for Rossett to shake.
    “It seemed to go well. We still have to load the trains, but I doubt they’ll give us any problems.”
    “They will do as they are told. They understand when they are met with someone who is determined to do his job.” Schmitt turned to Koehler. “I do enjoy early-morning sport. Thank you for the entertainment.”
    Koehler smiled and nodded to Rossett.
    “Another satisfied customer.”
    “I’d best be going. Don’t want to keep the trucks waiting too long.”
    “Of course, we don’t want any of those Jews dying before we get them on the train!” Schmitt laughed a little too loudly at his own joke.
    Rossett climbed into the Austin.
    “I’ll see you back at the office,” he said to Koehler. “Unless you are coming down to the train?”
    “No, you deal with it.” Koehler turned from the car and headed to his Mercedes. Schmitt gave Rossett a wave and followed Koehler. It occurred to Rossett that Koehler never went to the station to see the Jews being loaded. Rossett watched the Germans get into the car and thought for a moment about how Koehler contrasted with Schmitt, who was now laughing and pointing at the truck. Koehler looked across to him and nodded his head. Rossett nodded back and watched them drive away.
    “Were they happy with how things went?” Rossett jumped as the uniformed inspector leaned in through his window.
    “Yes.”
    “Will you let them know what station we are from? It’s nice to stay on Jerry’s side, you understand?”
    “Everything will be in my report.”
    “Anytime, Sergeant,” said the inspector as he walked briskly toward the waiting area car, its engine already running, with a belch of smoke hanging behind it in the cold air.
    Brewer lifted a hand to Rossett from the back as the area car pulled away from the curb. Rossett gunned the little Austin and fell in behind the trucks to make the journey across to Nine Elms goods yard.
    THE GERMAN SENTRIES at the yard already had the barrier up as they approached. They waved the convoy straight through with a friendly, halfhearted salute and a shouted joke to the police hanging onto the back of the third truck. Although the rain had petered out to a drizzle, there was now a strong wind blowing across the tracks, and the wide-open spaces offered no shelter as the trucks bounced across the yard toward the waiting goods train.
    Rossett always arranged for these operations to happen before the place came to life in the