The Red Alert Story

The Red Alert Story.
by Gareth Bird

CHAPTER IV
For several hours, the only spoken sounds were of those of snores and grunts. The monotonous engine chugged. the men breathed heavily, pausing only whilst they shivered. In fact, Jack was almost glad when the Captain burst inside and yelled for everyone to immediately wake up and brace themselves. He dashed out again and yelled at some other soldiers. Jack desperately tried to keep his heavy eyelids up when the LST engine revved and the craft took an abrupt turn. The men inside the APCs were flung around like popcorn on a fire, as the LST lifted into the air after an explosion rocked through its frame. Alarms sounded as the lights went out and gallons of water began gushing in from all directions. The engine appeared to rev louder, then stopped altogether with a final explosion. The order was given to abandon ship. Jack scrambled out with the rest of the 'walking wounded', leaving behind those who couldn't. Jack turned his head to see if he could help any of those still inside. He could see probably half a dozen men, most of whom had been laughing along with Jack at Tanya's expense.

A flying arm struck Jack in the right eye and sent him sprawling onto the floor. Groping around with one hand on his eye and the other trying to drag himself along. He felt a tight grip on his arm and his pulled to his feet by Carter. He tried to tell him about the others left in the APC, but the grip didn't loosen and he was subsequently hurled overboard into the freezing estuary where he became just one of many men thrashing about heading in different directions.

Another explosion blasted the blazing LST. More men fell and jumped from it before it flipped over completely and started to sink. From behind the stricken transport, Jack saw their attacker. It was a Soviet submarine. However, it too was under attack, for behind this was an Allied Gunboat, and before long, the river was awash with soldiers from both sides as the submarine began its involuntary descent to the depths of the estuary. Jack tried to swim along an out to sea, to where the Allied vessel remained. Jack found this fairly easy going, despite the cold, as the currents were strong and took him right out.

Several lifeboats, rafts and rings were thrown out to the fifty or so men who swam towards the ship, but it was intent on ensuring these fifty or so didn't all get aboard. As the soldiers, Allied and Soviet alike, neared the ship, about ten naval officers appeared on the deck, with rifles ready. Jack grabbed the life ring that floated near to him as to his horror, the sailors opened fire on the defenceless Soviets. Another explosion, this time from under the water, along with the debris it produced, indicated to Jack that the submarine was no more. Surely these men posed no threat? Surely they were now prisoners of war and should be treated so? Still, the sailors let off round after round of ammunition at their enemies who were caught in the drift towards the ship.

A small motor boat became audible to Jack, who had started a bout of extreme shivering. His eyelids became heavy, and he was losing his senses; he could no longer feel the cold and sounds of gunshots seemed to come from somewhere over the horizon. The launch came close to Jack, who was awakened by the extra waves that battered his weary face. A strong arm grabbed him by the lapels and he was hoisted aboard, where he joined another three men. Jack recognised them as Allied soldiers, but their frostily blurred features coupled with Jack's delirious mind made further identification impossible. At that moment, Jack couldn't tell whether he'd been rescued by a couple of men in a boat or if he was piloting a submarine along the river Thames. It was futile. It was as if he was stoned. He summoned all of his remaining strength in an effort to make some sense of the jumbled hallucinations that refused to vacate his mind, and in doing so blacked out.

The ship's infirmary was a lot emptier than Jack expected, although quite how long he'd been unconscious he did not know. To his left was another inmate who appeared to be sleeping, or merely unconscious and to his right, was a makeshift mortuary, where three corpses lay with blanket-covered faces. It took Jack several more days to regain the strength to move from his bed and to talk to anyone who'd listen. As it turned out, there had been just four survivors, one of whom was in a critical condition. Jack was lucky. Not only was he alive, but the injuries he had sustained as a result of the events of the previous few days were apparently less severe than he had feared. However, it wasn't until the boat entered the port of Lulea that Jack's mind had settled and was able to ask the relevant questions.

"Where the hell are we?" he asked spontaneously. Jack had lost all track of time and assumed they were on the way back to England, a trip which should have taken no more than a couple of days, given their current weather conditions. But eventually it did hit him. They had been following a coastline for about three days, but they were going north not west.

The ship docked and Jack was bustled out of the way as a man on a trolley was wheeled off onto the dock with a couple of the ship's crew. They were met by another couple of men who appeared to Jack to be civilians. The trolley was dragged through the snow before being lifted into a van. The four men got inside, before it sped off as best as it could. "Where are we?" repeated Jack, "What's going on?" All of a sudden, Jack had regained his ability to think logically and was determined to get some answers. The crew was called on deck and they dutifully obeyed. Jack headed out too, hoping more light would be shed on the situation.

Unsurprisingly, the deck was cold and slippery. The snow pelted down heavily and the fifty or so men on board paid attention to their commanding officer. Despite the distractions, the wind and his still fragile state of health, Jack understood precisely what he heard, but felt unreassured by the deliverance. It had become apparent that the ship, H.M.S. Resistance, was no longer sea-worthy due to the battle at the Gdansk estuary; it had been possible to navigate the Baltic Sea, but any further would have been dangerous. They had continued north as long as the ship had let them, but there were no major ports north of Lulea and the ship was becoming too dangerous to run.

The ship was to be emptied immediately and everyone was to assemble in a hall near the docks. Quite what they were doing in the north of Sweden was unclear to Jack. So far as he knew, Sweden had declared itself impartial to the brewing conflict between the Soviet and Allied forces. As had the rest of Scandinavia, a few other European countries, including of course, Switzerland. They had all more or less taken the stance of "Tell us when they're at our border. Until then, sorry, but it's not our problem." That, however, was before any real fighting had taken place. With this weighing on his mind, Jack went back to the infirmary and gathered together the bag of clothing and equipment given to him upon recovering consciousness.

Following the other Allied troops (all of whom were British) Jack became unanimous that he would get some answers out of someone. Jack tried to talk to one of them, but he gave no response. Instead he just glanced a "Not now." look before quickening his march, catching up with a small group ahead. Jack walked the remaining half mile or so alone, staying about six or so steps behind the men in front. But there was something about the surrounding civilians that unnerved Jack. They were staring, naturally, but the thought of imposing on a country whose currently neutral military forces were rumoured to be enough to defeat the Soviets almost single-handedly, in terms of conventional arms. Unlike Jack, who chose to join the Armed Forces a handful of years ago, the majority of the men and women in this country were conscripted to do so. Jack just hoped that if it came to the crunch, they'd be on their side.

The warmth of the borrowed school hall was a welcome relief to all. When he arrived there were twenty or more soldiers already there, filling their bowls with hot soup, which had been provided for by a few locals. As the rest of the men crowded in to the hall, the atmosphere livened up. Jack almost expected them to get up and start singing and dancing. He could scarcely remember that there was a fierce war raging in central Europe. Every so often, a group of men would roar a burst of laughter as jokes were exchanged. Jack sat on his own and tried to spoon-feed himself the hot vegetable soup, but found it difficult due to frostbite wounds on his hands. Instead, he picked up the bowl and drank out of it, and upon finishing, gave a nod of satisfaction to nobody in particular and returned the bowl.

However, after the food and drinks were finished, the mood took a swing back to reality; back to all seriousness. The Swedish civilians were requested to leave, and after they had all gone, and the entrances to the hall were stationed with a couple of men each, Captain Rodgers of H.M.S. Resistance produced a stack of papers, which were promptly handed out. In a quietened voice, Rodgers explained their current situation.

In the past week or so, since the war was officially 'on', the Soviet forces had made significant progress through Europe. So much so in fact that Poland was well and truly in Soviet hands and, despite heavy military resistance from the Germans, they had advanced up to Berlin. But contrary to everyone's intelligence's expectations, they had remained in Berlin and showed no signs of continuing, even to the extent that western Berlin was still under Allied control, whilst the eastern half was left in Soviet control.

It had been suggested that, whilst they were well fortified in terms of conventional troops, the Soviets have put European domination 'on hold'. This would be because the Soviet forces would be mighty enough to continue on into France, but by that time, their armies would be so spread out they would be susceptible to attack. As it was, they were confident enough to stop any Allied re-invasion plan. It was now apparent that this war would undoubtedly take millions of casualties from the warring factions, yet would probably be won or lost through unconventional weapons; in particular, the new superbomb.

Details of the bomb were still in preliminary stages, but it was suggested that harnessing the power of a super-critical nuclear chain reaction was now feasible. These atomic weapons, or A-Bombs, could eventually be powerful enough to devastate a large city, according to an Albert Einstein, a leading professor working on the project. Allied intelligence had revealed that the Soviets, too, had set up their own technology team to beat the Allies to the A-Bomb and with the resources to do so, the threat of a nuclear strike could be upon them without warning. That is why the Allied forces had enlisted support by the United States of America, who had pledged great financial backing to the research, and in return, the USA would acquire the technology to bolster their war efforts, currently focused in the Far East, where the Japanese had stepped up their campaign on the Americans and were gradually overpowering them.

However, despite the trans-Atlantic support for the research, it was becoming apparent that the Allies would be unlikely to beat the Soviets to the A-Bomb, so Allied headquarters had ordered immediate espionage followed by sabotage of the Soviet research centres, located deep in Soviet territory. Several attempts to get inside enemy lines had been made, but all had failed. This is where H.M.S. Resistance had inadvertently succeeded. Soviet naval fleets had effectively cut off the passages between the North and Baltic Seas, with the Allied vessel 'trapped' in the Baltic. Apparently, the opposing naval forces had passed whilst negotiating the hundreds of Danish islands. After eliminating the Soviets' meagre defences at Gdansk, the Resistance had the opportunity to relocate without the enemy noticing. That is the reason why there had to be no survivors from the submarine, else the credibility of the mission would be jeopardised.

Their mission, concluded the Captain, would be to cross into enemy territory under cover of the Scandinavian-Soviet pact, then to infiltrate the Soviet Headquarters. It was stressed that failure was not an option, as it would surely prompt the Soviets into a better research programme, and the consequences of Soviet scientists winning the A-Bomb race would be catastrophic. In all, there where 56 Allied soldiers who, led by their Captain, would have to travel by any means possible to Kalinin, about 100 miles north-west of Moscow. Out of these 56 men, Rodgers warned that if just one man returned with the information, the fate of the other 55 was unimportant. They would leave in 7 groups of 8, at staggered intervals of 2 days, so as not to arouse suspicion. They would beg, steal and borrow their ways across the 900 or so miles to Vyshniy Volochek, where they would meet to discuss their strategies, before completing their 50 mile trek to Kalinin.

The first team would leave in the morning. "Any questions?" asked Rodgers. There was no reply. The stark reality of the situation was hard to comprehend. 56 men could well be responsible for the outcome of the war. Just 56 men. When compared to the estimated 2-2 1/2 million soldiers who had already died, it made the futility of the conflict all the more apparent.

Jack was teamed up with his seven comrades; they were Breeze, Davies, Dunn, Gray, Gower, Shaw and Taylor, who would be making up the final group. Jack felt uneasy and almost unwelcome, but nevertheless, he tried to make conversation. "One of the men I was with was called Davies. You any relation?" The stupidity of the question hit him. What if he was? Jack could then reply "Oh well he was one of those people who drowned, got blown up or died of other injuries a week ago." Jack hoped he wouldn't reply.

"Not that I know of." was the half-hearted answer. No-one else spoke. They lay out their equipment on the floor and sorted out the essentials. Ammunition was counted and loaded, food rations were allocated and first-aid packs emptied so that only the bare necessities were taken in case of an extreme emergency. After their equipment was packed and their maps and other confidential documents were securely placed in hidden pockets of their non-uniform coats, the hall was turned into a large dormitory, with blankets for beds. Jack slept easier than he thought he might do under the circumstances, and when he awoke, the first team had already left.

Jack spent the next fourteen days being taught by Dunn, a master linguist who spoke 5 languages other than English, of the vital Russian and Swedish phrases that might help him through. He had no idea how long it would take for the "chickens" to reach "the nest" as it was code-worded, but if they even managed 25 miles per day, it didn't take a genius to work out it was going to be a long hike. Jack's platoon members had accepted him more than before. He supposed it was because he was one of the POWs that got them into this mess; if he had just been shot dead like a good prisoner, there would have been no rescue attempt and the crew would have been on the correct side of Denmark. They had begun to form an attempted itinerary. 25 miles per day was a little too ambitious given the terrain and the conditions, but they remained optimistic that they would reach Vyshniy Volochek in good time.

On the next morning, the last group ate an early breakfast and with synchronised watches, set off. It was still very dark and they marched 2 by 2 along a snow covered road which followed the coast of the Gulf of Bothnia. It was not as hard going as expected and by the time it was light, they had travelled several miles. Although it was cold, it was not snowing and the midday sun passed through the dark clouds, revealing the beauty of the surrounding landscape. Jack had his balaclava and his hood on, but unsurprisingly felt the cold. By the evening, they had covered about 15 to 20 miles in their estimation and were approaching a small village with perhaps as few as four houses.

"What d'you say we stop here?" asked Shaw. They stopped and looked at each other. They looked around them then back to each other. Gray shrugged, Gower shivered and Dunn said:

"Suits me, I'm knackered." They agreed and walked off the road and around the back of one of the houses. Jack felt that the description of a village was overstating the situation. Four single-storey wooden structures stood two on each side. There was just one light coming from one of them and it became obvious there were a lot of people there. Jack peered into the icy window, and after rubbing away some of the mist from it, a second glance revealed to him there were about 12 people sitting inside around a blazing fire. They were talking, sometimes shouting, but remained civilised.

"Over here!" called Gray in a hushed voice. He had found a small barn-like structure leaning against the side of the house. There would be ample room for them to stay the night, but that wasn't what they had noticed. Inside sat a rusting old truck. It looked in pretty bad shape, but the fresh snow on its tyres indicated it was still in use. "What do you think?"

" 'Reckon we'd all get in it?" inquired Davies, pulling at the driver-side door handle.

"Easily!" replied Shaw. "Hell, we could take bloody herd of cattle along with us in this beast!"

"Woah! Hang on a sec," interrupted Jack. The idea of a drive some of the way appealed greatly, but he reasoned with himself and explained to the others what was on his mind. "Before you get your hopes up, have you any idea how much fuel's on board? If it can handle our weight, let alone a herd of cattle?" he continued taking a glance in Shaw's direction. "And just how far were you planning on driving us at this time of night?"

They looked around the room at each other. "Well what are you suggesting, then?" asked Davies. Everyone turned to face Jack and stared.

"Well, all I was going to say was that here we are standing in a village where we could spend the night in relative comfort compared to that thing." replied Jack, raising a pointed finger in the direction of the truck. He took off his back pack and looked at Davies. "Well?"

"OK. But I'm not sleeping here." answered Davies before promptly marching out. The others raced outside to see and hear Davies banging on the back door. "Dunn, get here now!" he shouted, and Dunn obliged.

The door creak open slowly until in was open a few inches. Davies pushed Dunn forward and nodded towards the man who stood there, frowning and staring back at him. Dunn greeted him, but the only response was a shift in focus by the man from Davies to Dunn.

"Tell him we want to come in and spend the night there." whispered Davies.

Dunn tried to explain to the man as best as he could, who just turned and looked back into the room.

"And tell him if he doesn't, we'll kick his sorry arse into the middle of next week!" continued Davies. The man in the house gestured to the rest of those inside with a nod, before he swapped places with another man. Dunn looked at him and was about to say something when the door swung right open. This took him completely by surprise and was barely quick enough in concealing his rifle. He discretely passed it from behind his back to Jack who held it behind his own back along with his weapon. The Swede muttered something, and nodded for them to come in.

Dunn turned to Davies. "He says OK."

"Is that all?" replied Davies.

"Yeah, but I think we'll be alright." said Dunn whilst beginning to smile and stamp off the snow from his boots before stepping in. He took off his hat and smiled again at the two dozen eyes staring at him. Davies poked his head around the corner and grinned at its occupants.

He turned back to Gower and Jack. "Here," he started passing Gower his rifle, "get rid of these!" Jack and Gower took the guns and dragged them with their bags into the barn, then took out the blankets and carried them inside.

"This is Sven." smiled Dunn to Jack and Gower as they arrived. "It's his house." The second man smiled back and offered his hand to Jack first then Gower. They shook hands. "This is everyone from this place; they all come together at night as it saves on dry firewood."

Sven asked Dunn a question that made him look quite uneasy. "He wants to know who we are and what we're doing." Davies looked at Jack, who in turn then looked at Breeze. "Well?" asked Dunn. "What do I say? I can hardly tell them we're British soldiers working on a top secret mission to defeat Russia can I?" Sven cast a slightly more suspicious look at Dunn, who laughed a little before introducing everyone. Sven returned the gesture and Jack and his comrades made sure they spent as long as possible saying hello to them all, desperately trying to come up with something.

Sven asked again and Dunn was forced to reply. He turned to Jack. "He said he thought we might have been Russian soldiers on their way to help attack those 'no-good' Allied forces."

"Oh dear." muttered Jack, "So I suppose British soldiers aren't too welcome around here?"

"Probably not," answered Dunn, "so I told him we were peace envoys."

"What!" blurted out Taylor in disbelief.

"Yeah, I said we were peace envoys, from Britain and that we weren't actually part of the war and that we were there to prevent it."

"If they take a look in their barn we're buggered." whispered Davies. "So what are we supposed to be doing here?"

"Well," continued Dunn, "I haven't told him yet. Perhaps we could say our plane was shot down by the Soviets?"

"No!" warned Breeze sternly. "They might think we're taking it out on the Russians, and I doubt that will go down too well."

"We could just say our plane crashed." suggested Gower.

"But they might want to check out the non-existent wreckage." argued Shaw.

"No." replied Jack, "It doesn't matter, 'cos by that time we'll be long gone. I say we say our plane just crashed of its own accord - nothing to do with the Russians." Jack paused and looked around the familiar faces. "Are we agreed?"

"It's worth a shot." declared Davies.

"Yeah." agreed Taylor.

"OK. I'll tell him." concluded Dunn who explained to their hosts. After a minute or so of carefully chosen words, Sven laughed out loud and patted a strong arm on Dunn's shoulder, indicating to Jack that they had bought their story. They spent the next couple of hours eating, drinking and telling translated tales to each other before the villagers returned to their own homes leaving the soldiers with Sven, his wife and their son.

Eventually the topic of conversation got around to the truck in the barn. Dunn asked if they could borrow it so they could get to a town to inform their superiors of their situation. Sven agreed immediately as he approved anything which could help put an end to the fighting before the Allies took over Sweden like they were trying to do to Russia. Dunn had to fake his agreement and they had appeared to have found their ticket out of there when Sven offered to drive them. Dunn tried to refuse, saying they would guarantee its return in the next day or so. But Sven would not back down and was adamant he would chauffeur his new-found friends. He reluctantly agreed and as the conversation drew to a close, the family retired to bed leaving the soldiers in the main room.

"Now what?" moaned Shaw. "There's no way we can let him drive us, it'll be obvious we're soldiers!"

"He won't have to." replied Davies calmly, without even lifting his head. "I mean, we're all quite capable of driving it aren't we?"

"I suppose..." started Breeze.

"Then why don't we just take it before they wake up and get the hell out of here?" continued Davies.

"We're not thieves." stated Jack. "I don't like that plan."

"Hey listen!" retaliated Davies, standing up and looking Jack straight in the eye. "What he said about us being peace envoys wasn't too far from the truth." Davies paused, waiting for Jack's reaction and deliberately carried on the moment Jack opened his mouth. "If we don't get there in time, we won't get any peace. You heard the Captain, it's down to us. I don't give a damn about you, but I'll be on that truck a five o'clock in the morning and I'll be leaving if you're there or not." he finished defiantly, before he turned crashed out on the rug in front of the fire.

"I suppose we've got no choice, then." collaborated Jack reluctantly, then he too lay down on the floor under his blanket whilst the other soldiers did so too. No-one else spoke and they were soon asleep.


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