Chieftains

Although Roxforth liked Sache-Worrel, he was hoping the second lieutenant was wrong. It would be much better if Fellows could simply shrug his shoulders and say: 'Nothing to worry about, everything is fine.' The entire incident could be passed off as normal anxiety in this kind of situation. It would be forgotten immediately.

Mick Fellows was standing beside his Scimitar when Roxforth found him, staring out into the darkness of the woods. 'Sir?' Fellows was as twitchy as the rest of them, and turned quickly. 'Can we talk for a minute?'

'I shouldn't wander around too much,' suggested Fellows. 'I'd rather you all kept to your tanks until the recce patrol gets back. What's the probelm?

'The message from HQ. I didn't hear the original code.' Roxforth found himself speaking over-quickly.

'Having doubts, Sandy? Don't worry. These damned SAS are taking their time, they're overdue. It shouldn't have taken them so long, we put them down within a couple of miles of the location. This waiting makes all of us edgy. It doesn't help hearing the sound of battle all the while; makes you want to get in there and do something. Bloody frustrating. How are the crews?'

'Fine. Most are sleeping.' He knew he was going to have to persist even if Fellows did get angry with him. 'What was the code, sir?

Fellows replied sharply, 'Trophy Bacon Sunset Juliet. What's on your mind?'

Oh Christ, thought Roxforth, there has been a mistake! 'The thought dismayed him though he hadn't spent too much time dwelling on the consequences of the error. He said, 'I'm sorry, sir. I think there's been a mistranslation.'

'Nonsense!' Fellows was immediately defensive, and annoyed. 'The translation is correct.'

'Bacon, sir.'

'Bacon is Hehlingen.'

'No, sir. Bacon is Bisdorf. Hehlingen is Brandy.'

Roxforth could sense Fellows bristling in the darkness. 'Now see here, Roxforth…' Fellows paused, thought for a few moments as his doubts grew then spoke more softly. 'Damn…damn!' He had been showing off in front of the SAS lieutenant…if he had taken just a few mare seconds to check the message.

'It was a mistake for HQ to choose neighbouring towns with code names beginning with the same letter,' said Roxforth, offering his commander an excuse.

'No need for eyewash, Sandy. Which one of you spotted the error?' Fellows answered the question for himself. 'Only Sache-Worrel could have heard the original.'

Roxforth realized the knowledge it was the junior lieutenant wasn't going to make it any easier for the captain.

'I wish to God he'd spoken up at the time,' said Fellows, quietly.

'I don't believe he thought about it until we reached here…then he wasn't certain how to handle it.'

'Are the crews aware of this?'

'Of course not.' Roxforth could see no point in reducing the men's confidence in their commander. Everyone could make mistakes, and he could appreciate the captain's feelings.

'One kilometer west of Bisdorf would put the Red HQ about three K's from the A2 autobahn.'

'Or thereabouts,' agreed Roxforth.

'And we've lost three hours.'

'We may be able to recover time,' Roxforth said, encouragingly.

'Nonsense. There's no way you can recover lost time. Damn and blast! Get the crews ready to move out. The minute Hinton is back, we'll get going.' He studied his watch. 'I'm giving him another thirty minutes.'

'Yes, sir.'

'You don't need to "sir" me, Sandy, just because I've made a bloody fool of myself. And by the way, I'll make out a report of the matter afterwards.?

'I don't think that will be necessary.'

'It is necessary. Thank young Sache-Worrel for me will you. Tell him he did the right thing, Sandy. Late, maybe, but right.'

Fellows watched him walk away through the shadows of the woods. He felt angry with himself; not only angry, but ashamed. He had prided himself that his career had been near-faultless, no errors in training, always the highest marks; a close runner-up for best cadet at Sandhurst. He had never put a foot wrong, until now. And this had been what all the training had been about – war. He had made a balls of his first command in real action. Why? Because he had been unable to trust the judgement of a superior officer. He still believed his German CO was wrong; if you were going to have armoured stay-behind units, then they should be Chieftains with more protection and heavier weaponry, not lightly-armed Scimitars. But as he had always felt this, then he should not have accepted the command; he should have had the courage to refuse. His lack of conviction in the practicability of the scheme had led to his carelessness. Responsibility now for its failure was totally his own. It was not going to be easy to live with in the future; he rejected imperfection in others, but had discovered it in himself.