commandos. Those are purely voluntary. You won’t need to leave your men. In fact they’re integral to the whole scheme.’
‘Sir, are you quite certain that you’ve got the right man?’
‘Absolutely. As I said, I couldn’t believe it when I heard you were here. Last-minute miracle. I was beginning to despair.’
‘Can I ask how exactly you did hear, sir?’
‘No. Not really. Let’s just say that someone whom you know, knows who you are. That is to say they knew that you were here. And they told me, and as soon as I heard that I had you brought here. That any clearer?’
‘Not really, sir. No.’
‘Well, that’s it. The walls have ears, you know, Peter. Can’t be too careful.’
‘Evidently not.’
It was instantly apparent to him that the colonel’s spy, whoever he or she was, had to be one of the British party. Either that or one of his own men, or most unlikely of all a Kiwi or an Aussie. He called to mind the civilians and had begun to wonder which one it could be before he realised that the colonel was speaking.
‘Now come on, Peter. There’s no need to be like that. This is hardly the man I know. The hero of St Valéry.’
‘Well, perhaps I’ve changed then, sir. Greece is a shambles.’
The colonel nodded. ‘Yes. I couldn’t agree more. And to stop it becoming an utter farce is the reason you’re here. What do you know about the Greek monarchy?’
‘Not much, sir. I know they’ve got a King at least and that he may be somehow related to Queen Victoria. And that he was deposed and then put back on the throne. That’s about it.’
‘That’ll do. For starters. They do have a King. King George II. And yes, you’re right, he was deposed and reinstated. And where do you suppose he is now?’
‘Probably en route to somewhere a long way away from here. We saw Prince Peter driving for the coast.’
‘Did you now? That’s the King’s cousin. Important chappie. In the Greek army. Liaison with us. Good sort. And yes, right again. The King is getting away. In fact …’ He looked at his watch. ‘By my reckoning he should be making landfall in Crete just about now.’
‘Crete, sir?’
‘Yes, island to the south of us.’
Lamb nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Delightful place. Stayed there myself once. Full of old buildings and ruins. Very important. Well, that’s where the King has gone to get away from Jerry. And well he might.’
‘Sir?’
‘Herr Hitler has seen fit to declare King George an enemy of the Greek people. Damned impertinence. An enemy of his own people! That little man has no concept of manners. Well, now. What I want you to do is to go to Crete and keep an eye on him.’
‘Keep an eye on him, sir?’
‘Yes. Just that. Well, a little more. Forget about going to Alex. Get yourself and your men off to Crete. Find the King as soon as you can. Don’t let him know what you’re there for until you’re needed. That’ll be soon enough. We want to try to keep the thing as hush-hush as we can. In fact you may not even have to meet him. Just keep yourself aware of where he is, and if the Germans invade the island be prepared to help with his evacuation. Is that clear?’
Lamb shook his head. ‘Quite clear, sir. You want me to babysit the King of Greece and if the Germans come for him help him escape to Egypt.’
‘Precisely. Although I wouldn’t say “babysit” was quite the right expression. “Unofficial bodyguard” is how I would put it.’
‘Without his knowing?’
‘Yes.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘You can’t.’ The colonel had stopped smiling now. ‘Try it and I’ll see to it that you lose your captaincy.’
‘Can you tell me why the King is so vitally important? Greece itself I think I can see. It’s part of Mr Churchill’s grand plan for a southern alliance against the Axis. But the King? Wouldn’t I be better off fighting?’
‘King George is a figurehead. Whatever Hitler might say, many of his people love their King. It’s equally obvious that the Führer loathes him. He’s 40, almost 41, and pretty fit. He trained with the Prussian army before the last war. His great grandmother was Queen Victoria and our own King calls him “cousin”. George and his father the King were exiled in 1917 and replaced by his brother Alexander and a republican government. But Alexander died, and by 1920 George and his old man were back by common vote. His father was deposed after being defeated by Turkey, and George was given the throne. Four years later he was out, and in 1932 settled in London at Brown’s Hotel. He divorced his wife in 1935 and the following year was back on the throne. There are no children. So. There you have it. There’s your charge, Peter.’
Lamb stared at him. He realised that this was a defining moment. His instinct was to say no and to suffer the consequences. He had doubted the integrity of the Greek campaign since the outset, and now this. This was politics. Hitler against Churchill. A spite match, with the King as pawn. The colonel watched him carefully. Gauged his unease.
‘Peter. Remember. When all this is over, when we’ve won the war, you’ll need people who can help. You’re a young man. Your whole future’s ahead of you. You’ll have done something good in the war, have already, but what will you do in the peace? I can help. I’m your guarantee of a future, Peter. You can still be someone when the lights go on again. Believe me, there will still be someone to fight, and I’ll be leading that crusade too. If that’s what you want then I’ll be right behind you. But only if you play along now. You know what the alternative means.’
Lamb thought for a moment. ‘All right. I’ll be your babysitter, sir. I’ll look after your King and I’ll do my best to get him out if the Jerries attack. Do you suppose they will?’
‘Yes, to be frank. But we don’t know for certain and we don’t know when. Good, I’m glad that’s settled. Now you had better go back and find your men before the Jerries get here. Pullen.’
The WO came through the door. ‘We’re pulling out of this dive. Escort Captain Lamb back to the town and let’s get ourselves off, shall we? Before Jerry walks in.’
Back in the square Lamb found the men milling around the tailgates of the trucks. Bennett stubbed out a cigarette. ‘Blimey, sir. You all right? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘Yes, you’re not far wrong, Sarnt-Major. Come on, we need to get a move on. Get the civilians on first.’
The Hartleys, Comberwell and Papandreou and their retainers piled into the back of one of the trucks, and Lamb’s men followed suit. Looking at them again he wondered which of them had told the colonel of his presence and how.
Lamb opened the passenger door of the lead truck and climbed in. They started up and the little convoy began to clatter and jolt down the road through the city and out eastwards towards Rafina. Despite the streams of fugitives, it didn’t take them long.
Piraeus might well have been, as the Aussie sergeant had told him, ‘fucked up’, but as far as Lamb could see the little port of Rafina was certainly in a mess as well. The little harbour, normally more used to fishing boats, was now full of ships of all sorts, some of them half submerged, having been hit by the Luftwaffe. The water, usually clear blue, had turned a filthy black with the floating, charred wood from destroyed vessels, and everywhere, it seemed to Lamb, masts and funnels of ships poked through the oily scum of the surface. The cloying stench of oil and burnt wood was everywhere.
On shore most of the houses were in ruins, their rubble giving many of them the appearance of ancient monuments.
Valentine