The Odin Mission Read Online Free PDF Page A

far, this had twin engines, but the Dorniers had
had twin tail fins and more rounded wings, like those of the larger Heinkel
111s. The wings on this one were more aquiline and it had a bulbous head that
made it seem oddly out of proportion.
    Hepworth brought over a mug of tea. 'There you go, Sarge,' he said, and
stood holding it out while the Junkers banked round the far side of the lake.
'Feels like they're toying with us, don't it?'
    'Recce planes, Hep,' said Tanner. 'They're making sure they have a damn
good look before they start up again.'
    'Probably can't believe it's so easy.'
    'Defeatist talk, Private? Don't let Mr Dingwall hear you speak in such
a way.' Tanner grinned at him, then took a sip of his tea. 'Great char, this,
Hep. Good on you.'
    A civilian car pulled into the yard outside the warehouse and
Lieutenant Dingwall stepped out. A young thin-faced man in his mid-twenties, he
strode over to Tanner. His face was ashen.
    'Hepworth, go and find Captain Webb,' he said, then turned to Tanner
and, in a conspiratorial tone, said, 'Grim news, I'm afraid. Looks like most of
D Company's had it. The Norwegians had promised transport to get them out, but
apparently it never showed up. We're hoping most are PoWs, but we've had no
contact from Company HQ since the early hours and Jerry's only just south of
the town. The colonel's beside himself. Looks like a company of Leicesters have
been overrun too.' Tanner nodded. 'Amazing to think I was talking to Captain
Kirby only last night,' Lieutenant Dingwall continued. 'And poor old Richie - I
mean, Lieutenant Richardson. I was at school with him, you know. We joined up
the same day. Hard to believe. Hope to Christ he's all right.'
    'I'm sure he will be, sir.'
    'Are you? Yes, you're probably right. Probably a prisoner. I'm sure
they treat their prisoners fairly. They're signed up to the Geneva Convention
and everything, aren't they? But, my God, you can hardly believe it, can you?
We watched them march off last night, and they've gone - a whole bloody
company, devoured . . .'
    'Best not to think too much about it, sir,' said Tanner.
    'No . . . no, you're quite right, Tanner.' He bit his lip and then his
eyes glanced from Tanner's breast pocket.
    Tanner followed his gaze and realized the lieutenant was studying the
tiny ribbon, blue, white and red stripes, of his Military Medal above the left
breast pocket of his battle blouse. He quickly buttoned his leather jerkin.
    Dingwall looked embarrassed. 'Sorry, Sergeant,' he said, and swallowed
hard. Then, smiling weakly, he added, 'Our turn to face the Germans soon.'
    'You'll be fine, sir,' said Tanner. He wanted to give his platoon
commander some reassurance but it was a difficult line to tread; it wasn't his
place to undermine the man's authority. Yet he could see the fear in Mr
Dingwall's eyes and it was important the lieutenant did not show it to the men.
Nonetheless it was natural that he should feel apprehensive. If Tanner was
honest, the tell-tale nausea in his stomach and the constriction in his throat
were troubling him now. He tried to remind himself it was the anticipation of battle
that was the worst; once the fighting began, adrenalin took over. Even so, the
Germans were brushing them aside as though they were little more than toy
soldiers. The enemy had control of the skies and, he'd heard, had tanks,
armoured cars and large amounts of artillery; 148 Brigade had none of those
things, and neither, it seemed, did the Norwegians. So how the hell were they
supposed to stop them? He understood now what it must have been like to be a
Mohmand warrior, armed only with muskets and swords against British rifles,
artillery and Vickers machine- guns. Christ , he thought. What the hell are we doing here?
    Tanner looked to the south and noticed Lieutenant Dingwall follow his
gaze.
    'When do you think the bastards will attack?' the subaltern asked.
    'Shouldn't think it'll be long.'
    'What about all these stores? We've not cleared half of