Tomb of the Lost (39 page)

“
Cheating bastards,
”
Burroughs commented.

“
All right that
’
s enough in case he hears you. We can beat them. If we win they
’
ll always know that we are better than them.
”

“
Alf they have three more players than us.
”

Alf counted them. Burroughs was right.

“
Even more reason to beat them. Come on Johnny you
’
re up front with me. Wilf are you all right in goal?
”

Burroughs clapped his hands together.

“
They won
’
t get past me.
”

Schwann was in the middle of the drawn pitch. The ball at his feet.

“
I
’
ve just decided,
”
he said
“
There will be no sending
’
s off.
”

Alf smiled but he knew that this was an excuse for the Germans to play rough.

“
If any of your team wishes to drop out now is the time.
”

Alf turned to look at them, his team, his comrades. They were ready.

“
Just go ahead and blow your whistle.
”

“
Very well. May the best team win,
”
Schwann said putting the whistle to his lips while trying not to laugh.

Schwann was holding the ball down with his right foot. He blew his whistle and kicked the ball back to a defender who passed it across the wing. Then they began their attack. They passed the ball easily between them taunting the English players who as yet had failed to make any sort of play. They marked the Germans and did nothing. Schwann dribbled the ball past Johnny Larder and took a shot at goal. Burroughs made a half hearted dive and the ball was in under his body. The Germans applauded but Schwann wasn
’
t impressed.

“
You didn
’
t try to stop that,
”
he said to Burroughs as Wilf got to his feet. He pointed a finger at Alf.

“
You don
’
t need to let us win. We
’
ll beat you easily enough.
”

Burroughs got the ball and kicked it back out. Alf placed it at the halfway line. Schwann blew his whistle again.

Alf passed the ball to Larder and ran deep. Johnny chipped it over and Alf brought the ball down with his chest. One of the Germans tried to push Alf over but he side stepped, played a one two with a team mate and struck the ball. The German goalkeeper put his hand out instinctively but the well struck ball thumped past him for the equaliser. The English players patted Alf on the back as he rejoined them. Only Captain Schwann applauded of the Germans.

“
Good. Very Good,
”
he said
“
Make the most of it. It will be the only one you get.
”

“
If any of your team wishes to drop out,
”
Alf goaded the German
“
Now would be the time.
”

Schwann pointed a finger at him.

“
Don
’
t push your luck!
”

Alf grinned as the ball was given back to Schwann. This time the German play was nasty. Schwann back passed but Frank Grimes intercepted and dribbled the ball towards the German goalkeeper. Alf on the right wing, Johnny on the left, both calling out
“
Frank! Frank!
”
to get Grimes attention. Grimes knew where they were though. He skillfully passed another German midfielder. He looked up momentarily to spot Larder.

The German
’
s tackle was vicious.

Corporal Kahler took both of Grimes legs out from under him. Grimes came down heavily onto his back. He rolled about in the dust holding his left knee and howling in pain. The English players booed but the Germans laughed.

“
Ah come on,
“
Appalled, Alf protested to Schwann
“
Your man didn
’
t even try for the ball.
”

“
I didn
’
t see it that way,
”
Schwann was amused.

“
He could have broken his leg,
”
Alf pointed at Kahler.

Kahler was grinning but his smile vanished when Schwann spoke to him.

“
See if he
’
s all right.
”

Kahler begrudgingly walked over to Grimes and offered his hand to help the Englishman up.

“
Are you all right?
”

Grimes swatted the outstretched hand away.

“
I am trying to apologise.
”

English hands helped Grimes up.

“
I don
’
t need or want your help,
”
Grimes told the German.

At six feet eight inches the massive German Kahler towered over Frank Grimes and the English players around him. The English all looked up at him in fear.

“
Are you all right?
”
Alf called to the injured P.O.W.

Grimes was rubbing his shins from the knock. The pain had eased but they were bruised.

“
We are having a free kick for that,
”
Alf told Schwann.

“
Very well,
“
the Captain replied. He put his whistle to his lips and blew it because of some pushing and shoving between the English players and Kahler. Alf dropped the ball at his feet and struck it with all his might. It bounced once in front of the German goalkeeper and thumped past him.

2-1.

The English cheered as Alf threw both of his hands into the air to celebrate.

“
I wasn
’
t ready,
”
The German goalkeeper started. He was going to go for the ball but suddenly rushed out of his goal when the celebrations continued.

“
I wasn
’
t ready.
”

He angrily grabbed Alf by the lapels, twisting bunches of Alf
’
s shirt in his fists. Despite Alf
’
s recent injury he pulled the German goalkeepers hands free and pushed the man away.

“
GET OFF ME!
”

Schwann was blowing his whistle again.

“
I wasn
’
t ready,
”
the goalkeeper protested to his Captain.

“
The game had stopped,
”
Schwann told Alf.

“
You blew your whistle which I took as a restart to the game after Grimes was fouled.
”

“
I blew the whistle because your team were arguing with Corporal Kahler. I blew it to get their attention.
”

“
I took it as a whistle for the free kick to be taken. I scored. It
’
s two, one to us.
”

The English players began arguing about the rules of football, finally Schwann said.

“
Fine have your precious goal. If that
’
s what it takes to beat a German team then have it.
”

Alf grinned.

“
We will,
”
he walked back to his cheering team mates,
“
That
’
ll teach the bastards to play fair.
”

The German goalkeeper was furious but Schwann put up a hand to shut him up.

“
Let them have it.
”

The goalkeeper took some persuading but finally, reluctantly, he conceded and walked behind his goalposts to retrieve the ball. Grimes was limping back into position. The goalkeeper kicked the ball back out bad temperedly. Schwann stopped the ball by placing his foot on it. He blew his whistle and kicked off again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Fieseler Storch flew in low over the mountains. Her pilot Gottfried Kleber keeping her steady in the light head winds. The morning sky was clear. The flight so far had been pleasant and uneventful. Ahead there were rain clouds but all morning he had flown towards them and they had come no closer. The threat of a storm moving away from them faster than the small aeroplane could fly. Kleber had discovered that out here in the desert distances were difficult to estimate. What you thought was close was often miles away and what you thought was far ahead you often came upon very quickly. Sometimes in his two years flying in North Africa he saw columns of enemy vehicles but his Fieseler Storch was unarmed and he flew away to avoid their fire. The small aircraft being constructed mainly of wood and canvas giving very little protection against anything from a bullet upwards. Kleber had only ever been shot at once. This was months ago when he was escorting the great Field Marshall Erwin Rommel. Today Kleber was escorting another great man and he glanced momentarily at General Hans von Brockhorst seated next to him. The General was pleasant enough, Kleber decided again. He had requested to sit in the front with the pilot rather than on his own in the main body. The small aircrafts seating conditions cramped regardless of where one sat.

Von Brockhorst had enjoyed the flight. A chance to see the desert from the air. He took note of everything. The land, proximity of the mountains and available cover they could provide. The abundance of water and he reminded himself of how the great Sultan, the great Islamic leader Saladin had moved from one stretch of water to another with an army of two hundred thousand. Like most military commanders Von Brockhorst had studied the strategies of Alexander, Caesar, Genghis Khan, Saladin, Napoleon. Saladin had gone on to crush the Christian armies and return Jerusalem to Islam.

Von Brockhorst felt excitement as he tried to imagine what it was like.

‘
Which side would I have fought on?
’
he asked himself.

‘
Why the side of victory of course
’
he answered.

‘
But who really won during the crusades?
’

Kleber banked the small plane for a minute and then levelled out. They were now heading into the sun. The mountains taking on a red glow at their tips from the warm rays of sunlight, looking brown where they were shaded.

“
It
’
s beautiful isn
’
t it,
”
Von Brockhorst spoke for only the second time in the journey.

“
It is General. It truly is,
”
Kleber answered
“
Almost as beautiful as the Fatherland,
”
he added using Germany
’
s nickname.

Von Brockhorst gazed down at the rolling hills and the plains. He could visualise great armies on horseback and foot crossing the open stretches to face each other in battle.

The Fieseler Storch was catching up to a flock of geese as they were heading further south and Kleber closed on their v-formation. He eased up on the throttle so that the Storch was almost at its minimum rpm and they enjoyed a wonderful close up of the migrating birds without alarming them.

“
I
’
ve seen Geese at over six thousand feet General but I don
’
t like taking her too high because it makes it so cold inside the cockpit and it
’
s uncomfortable for passengers. They are remarkable birds though and can fly much higher. How high though nobody truly knows.
”

Von Brockhorst looked up at their underbellies. Lots of thoughts running through his head.

’
I wonder how they cope with the cold. It must be the layer of goose fat they carry. The tasty fat that went into pate and was used to roast meats that fed Germany
’
s highborn and wealthy families. I wonder how they navigate and know exactly where they are and which direction to travel in. Have modern air forces copied them for their formation flying. And why do they fly in a V and how do they choose which one is their leader.
’

He began smiling to himself at all the possibilities.

“
Yes they truly are magnificent creatures,
”
he said to Kleber
“
Thank you for showing me them.
”

“
My pleasure sir. I sometimes wish I could be just like them.
”

Von Brockhorst could understand why.

“
To be free Corporal? To go wherever you wanted? To follow any direction you choose?
”