King Arthur Returns, Page 3

  Then, after they were delivered back to their homes, James’ aunt had taken her turn. She was shocked, she said, shocked at his reckless behavior. She reminded him again and again that there was a war on and that his behavior had been absolutely irresponsible. What would his parents think? They had relied on her to take care of him and now he was sneaking off into the night with a bunch of hoodlums for no good reason.

  Of course James protested that there was a perfectly good reason. The Home Guard patrols just couldn’t be depended on to discover the real dangers that were so close at hand. There could be U-boats moving silently within a few hundred feet of the cliffs. There could be German scouting patrols out to do mischief. There could even be spies living in St. Bees communicating with the Germans. Hadn’t he and his friends spotted a mysterious someone waving a flashlight around near the cliffs? What was that if it wasn’t an attempt to communicate with person or persons unknown but almost certainly German?

  But no one took him—or any of the other boys— seriously. The Home Guard Captain had all but laughed in their faces when they insisted they had observed suspicious and mysterious activity. And his aunt’s reaction was worse. If there really was someone out there, she insisted, then the Home Guard patrol would have spotted them.

  But James knew better. And so did the other boys. There had been someone out there signaling the previous night. The fact that the slow-moving old men from the Home Guard had not stumbled onto anyone didn’t prove anything.

  But, at the moment, it didn’t really matter. He had been told to stay in his room, a tiny little cell with pastel green walls, a single bed, a hard-backed chair and a small desk. Here he was to stay for the rest of the day and maybe beyond that, depending on whether his aunt had a change of heart or, more likely, just let it slip her mind that he had been banished to solitary confinement.

  Fortunately, he had previously squirreled away a pile of books in his little room. Many of them were well used. There were small books explaining the differences between British planes and German planes, British ships and German ships, and how to spot them. Of course James had never spotted anything. He had never even seen the single German plane that had flown over the area earlier that week, dropping its toll of destruction on harmless little St. Bees. Was that plane just the first of many to descend on the small village? Most of the people of St. Bees dismissed that notion out of hand. It was a fluke, they said. Nothing more. There would be no more German planes appearing over the skies of St. Bees.

  James scanned quickly through the pile of books on his nightstand. There was, of course, the book on King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable that his “uncle” had urged on him. He had read some children’s books on Arthur when he was younger back in Manchester and he had picked this larger one up from time to time. He had to admit that he had a certain childish fondness for books about Arthur, with their noble stories of bravery and gallantry. But he had learned a long time ago that the real world was nothing like that. The Germans (or at least the Nazis) certainly were anything but a noble enemy. Chivalry would be wasted on them and there wouldn’t be much sense in going at Panzer tanks with swords and lances.

  Still, James couldn’t help being intrigued by the Arthur legends. After all, Arthur and his Knights had been the last stand against England’s enemies in their day and they had fought against enormous odds. And yet they were victorious and had saved England.

  Assuming, of course, that there ever was an Arthur and there ever had been such a thing as the Knights of the Round Table. James knew the historical evidence for the whole Camelot story was sketchy at best. And of course there was some sort of magic involved in nearly all of the Arthur stories, most of it connected in some way with Merlin, Arthur’s friend and the court magician. But who could believe in magic? Who could believe in any of that? His aunt certainly didn’t believe it and James knew she was probably right.

  But the story—or legend—wouldn’t die. And it wouldn’t die because in a way England needed to believe it. The British people had to believe that somehow their little island would prevail against the massed forces of evil. And never had evil been more dramatically embodied than in Hitler and the Nazis. If little England was ever to prevail against the likes of Hitler, it would need all the help it could get.

  Chapter 9: Jeremy’s Catastrophe

  The four boys stood, huddled together, about fifty feet from the porch.

  “When did Jeremy find out?” asked Charlie quietly.

  “Just a few minutes ago, I guess,” said James. “I got here a little early and we were just talking for a couple of minutes when his grandmother came out to get him.”

  What’d she say?” asked Charlie.

  “She didn’t say much,” replied James. “Just told him his father was missing. She said that he hadn’t reported for his assignment this morning at the airbase. I couldn’t hear what she was saying that well. She was talking softly. She didn’t want me to hear what was going on.”

  “His father’s a pilot, right?” said Alfred.

  “Yeah, a bomber pilot. Jeremy told me that he’s already flown several missions.”

  “Over Germany?” asked Sam.

  “Some,” replied James. “I guess he’s also hit some French railroad depots to stop the German supplies from getting though. Those are the easy ones, Jeremy says. The tough ones are over the big German cities. Jeremy says that they have to fight off twenty or thirty German fighters at a time. And then there’s all that flak coming up from the anti-aircraft guns.”

  “Yeah, but at least he’s doing some damage to the Germans,” said Alfred.

  At least he’s fighting back,” added Sam. “The Germans keep destroying our cities and it’s time they get a little of their own back.”

  “So what went wrong,” asked Charlie. “Did he get hurt?”

  “Not from what I heard,” said James, “but remember, Jeremy’s grandmother was keeping her voice down and I didn’t hear everything.”

  “So why’d he miss his assignment?” ask Sam. “Scared?”

  “Jeremy told me the other day that his dad had flown almost thirty missions. Hard to believe he’d get sacred all of a sudden.”

  “Maybe…maybe not,” said Alfred. “Sometimes, after a while, the pilots just crack. Even some of the brave ones. I wish I could get my hands on some of those Germans…I’d…”

  “You may get your chance if they invade,” said Charlie. “That could still happen. They could come any time.”

  “Let ‘em come,” grunted Alfred, a sneer crossing his lips.

  “Well, right now we’ve got to think more about Jeremy than the Germans,” said James. “He’s got to be worried with his father missing.”

  “Not too much we can do about that,” said Sam.

  “You guys go ahead,” said James. “I’m going to hang around here outside of his grandmother’s house for a while. Maybe he’ll come out again.”

  The three other boys left. James took a seat beneath a shade tree and waited.

  “Everybody else take off?”

  James looked up. It was Jeremy.

  “Yeah,” James said. “They’ll be back, I suppose. You okay, Jeremy?”

  “Oh sure, I’m great. My father’s missing. He’s just gone and nobody knows where.”

  “How’d your grandmother find out?”

  “My mom called her. The base called mom about an hour after my dad didn’t show up. Asked her if she knew anything about it.”

  “But she didn’t?”

  “Nothing. She hadn’t talked to him for a couple of days. He’s just been flying and sleeping, flying and sleeping…”

  “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

  “I don’t think the RAF is so sure. If they don’t find him soon, they’re going to declare him AWOL.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Absent without leave. It means he has no excuse for not showing up.”

  “What are they going to do about it?”

 
“I don’t know,” Jeremy said, casting his eyes to the ground.” Court-martial him…maybe shoot him.”

  “You know that’s not going to happen.”

  “I don’t know anything. Nobody knows anything. That’s the problem.”

  “Is he maybe sick or something?”

  “Last time I saw him, he told my mother that he had just about had it. I know he was real tired. So was he sick? I don’t know. I just hope he gets back to base before something terrible happens.”

  Chapter 10: U-boat!

  The German U-boat moved silently through the waters off the St. Bees’ cliffs. The commander, Erich Haupenstein, waited impatiently as the periscope elevated to eye-level. It would be good to get some fresh air into his boat. They had been cruising at a little more than thirty feet below the surface for over an hour and the air, always bad on a submarine, was even worse than usual. But he couldn’t surface yet. Not until he got a good look around to make sure that there were no British patrols in sight that might spot him.

  As the periscope came into position, Haupenstein blinked several times and then squinted. After a second or two the image of the cliffs fell into place. No lights to be seen. No signs of activity.

  Lieutenant Dieter Muller came up directly behind him. “What I don’t understand, Commander, is why this new installation is not well guarded? Perhaps it is of no significance.”

  Haupenstein kept his focus on the periscope for a few more seconds and then turned to face his lieutenant. “Four new buildings constructed so quickly? They must have some purpose.”

  “But there are no guards,” said Muller. “No real security of any kind. And if it is a radar station, why are there no large screens?”

  “I can’t say,” replied the commander, “but it doesn’t matter. Those buildings were all constructed in a matter of weeks. They must have some purpose, perhaps an important one. And our orders are to watch them carefully and, if we have the opportunity, to destroy them. Our superiors think the buildings may be scientific in nature.”

  “But we see nothing. Night after night we observe them. Nothing.”

  “You know better than that, Muller!” snapped Haupenstein. “These buildings, if they are important, are not going to be lit up like Christmas trees! You know the whole English coast is under blackout orders. We cannot expect to see much.”

  “True, commander. But the silence is almost eerie. We’ve only spotted a few patrols, three or four men on foot, walking near the cliffs. They seem badly organized.”

  “The Home Guard! What fools the British are!” said Haupenstein disdainfully. “They think a regiment of old men can stop the German navy.”

  “But if there are no defenses, why do we wait? Let’s send the raiding party out tonight and destroy these new buildings, whatever they are.”

  “No,” replied the commander. “Our orders say it is to be tomorrow. Besides, there is too much moon tonight. Even the old men of the Home Guard might notice a rubber raft floating on the water by the moonlight. Tomorrow it should be cloudy. Tomorrow we launch the raiding party.”

  Chapter 11: On Alert

  Lieutenant Waterford walked briskly into the major’s office. Morris looked up slowly, an exasperated look crossing his face.

  Waterford gave a crisp salute. “Well Major, I may have something for you at last,” he said.

  “Something useful for a change?” asked the Major.

  “I’m not sure how useful it is, sir, but it is news. It seems pretty clear that there’s a German U-boat off the cliffs. In fact, it’s been hanging around for a few days now.”

  “And how do we know that, Lieutenant?”

  “Because they’ve gotten a little sloppy with their radio communications.”

  “Really? That’s not like the Germans.”

  Well, you know, sir, some of these U-boat commanders are getting pretty cocky these days. And that sometimes means that they don’t always exercise due caution.”

  “So why are they hanging around?” asked the Major, sipping from his teacup. “There are no shipping lanes around here.”

  “They may be here to drop off some more visitors. You’ll recall that we think a small patrol was landed in the vicinity last week.”

  “I remember.”

  “Intelligence is concerned that this time any landing party may do more than scout the area.”

  “Is this to be considered a serious danger?”

  “Serious enough that you better double your guard.”

  “Now listen, Lieutenant. It’s not that easy and you know it. We’re very low key here. We’ve only got a couple of military police watching the main gate. We’re trying very hard not to get noticed around here so we keep a low profile. Do you Intelligence people have anyone you can send us?”

  “I can try to have some people transferred here, sir, but I don’t know how quickly they’ll move. Have you seen any signs of danger at your end in the last few days?”

  “No…not really. There was a report that there were some kids out after curfew—out by the cliffs—who claim to have observed someone signaling a boat out there. The Home Guard checked it out and found nothing.”

  Lieutenant Waterford hesitated. “Yes…well, I did hear a little something about that episode from my sister. It turns out that one of the kids in that group was my son.”

  “Do you think there was something to it?”

  “I don’t know…James is not inclined to make things up. But they’re just a bunch of kids and maybe they just got carried away.”

  “Well, let’s hope so,” replied the Major. “In the meantime we’ll do the best we can with our limited resources to keep a sharp lookout. And you, Lieutenant Waterford, you see if you can scare up a little more security for us from your end. It’s good to hear about these things in advance but we still have to have the manpower to deal with problems when they come up.”

  “I understand, Major,” said Lieutenant Waterford. “I’ll do the best I can.”

  Chapter 12: To the Coal Mines

  “Come along then,” shouted Alfred over his shoulder, “We’ve a lot to do and we don’t have all day.”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Alfred,” said Sam, huffing and puffing to catch up to his brother as they made their way up a steep hill. “I’m not the one you should be yelling at. It’s everybody else who thinks that this is a pleasure cruise.”

  Alfred turned to face his brother and saw that James, Jeremy and Charlie were still at the bottom of the hill and moving slowly. “Blimey,” he sighed. “Are the three of you coming anytime soon?”

  “We’ll be there,” said Jeremy, picking up the pace a little. “Just give us a minute.”

  “Yeah,” said Charlie. “You think that the mines are going to disappear before we get there?”

  At that moment, James stopped in his tracks. “I don’t think we should be doing this. Or at least I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s going to be dark in less than an hour.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Alfred, moving down the hill a few steps to come closer to James. Sam also stopped and looked back toward James and the other boys.

  “The mines. I don’t think we should be going there. Everybody says it’s dangerous.” said James.

  “Everybody?” said Sam. “You mean, your batty old aunt, don’t you? What does she know? She hasn’t ever seen them.”

  “Now look, James,” said Alfred, trying to sound reasonable. “We’ve already talked about this. The mines aren’t dangerous if you know what you’re doing. And Sam and I…well, we know what we’re doing. We’ve been there a couple of times.”

  “I don’t know,” said James. “My aunt told me last night that I wasn’t supposed to go any farther than the town square. She said something might be in the air.”

  “Something in the air?” said Charlie. “Well, you know your aunt is balmy. What do you care what she says?”

  “I’m not sure,” said James. “But last night she talked to my parents. The
y both came for a short visit. They warned my aunt about something.”

  “You saw your mom and dad?” said Charlie. “You’re a lucky bugger. I haven’t seen my old man for a couple of months.”

  “So what did your parents say? What did they tell you?” said Sam.

  “I only saw them for a few minutes. They didn’t say much of anything to me,” said James. “But they told my aunt to look out for me and my sister. Something about the war.”

  “Well, said Sam, “if there is something mysterious happening around here, and if it does have anything to do with the old mines, don’t you think somebody ought to know about it?” said Sam. “I mean, if there’s really some danger out there, then we should get there fast and find out what it is.”

  “I still don’t know,” said James slowly. “My aunt is expecting me back in an hour…she thinks I’m in the town square.”

  “Oh, the bloody town square!” exclaimed Alfred. “Can’t we get away from the bloody town square for half a day?”

  “Me mum is expecting me back soon as well,” said Charlie.

  Sam and Alfred both glared at him.

  “Well, I think we should go,” said Jeremy. “My father once told me that he was going to take me to the old mines with him to explore someday. Now he’s missing. So I figure that maybe he’s out there waiting for me.”

  “Jeremy,” said James slowly, “I really don’t think…”

  “So if we’re going to do this, let’s do it and get it done before anybody notices we’re gone,” said Jeremy, tramping energetically up the hill with James and Charlie following slowly behind.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, the boys saw the first warning signs: “Abandoned Mines—Keep Out” and “No Trespassing—Police Orders.” Alfred forced a laugh and kicked one of the old signs to the ground. “We won’t be needing that!” he bellowed heartily, signaling for the other boys to follow him. Within a few more minutes, they were standing in front of the main entrance to the mines, a large, gaping hole in the side of a large hill. The entrance has been boarded off some time ago but many of the boards had either fallen off or been wrenched off by earlier visitors.