The Angry Hills - Leon Uris [17]
“I knew the bloomin’ navy would come through...”
Michael Morrison closed his eyes and sighed. “Thank God... Thank God...”
He retreated into the woods several yards, found a hiding place and waited. Best not to take a chance. There were a thousand men milling around. Mosley and the little man would certainly be there.
The sun made a final burst into the horizon.
Mike knew he had to be cautious, but he was filled with optimism now. He’d get aboard the ship, all right, one way or another. Mosley and the little man would be watching the boats load on the shore. He’d cross them up. He’d swim out part way to the ship and have one of the boats pick him up. Mike was a strong swimmer.... In the dark Mosley and the little man would never be able to spot him from the beach. Once aboard, he’d get to the ship’s captain—it would be all over soon.
He began to think of the reunion with his children and he almost wept with excitement. Mike thought of other things too. A shave and a shampoo at Kastrup’s Barber Shop. He thought about a double filet mignon at Amilio’s and he thought of the Top of the Mark. Maybe he’d just sit up at the Top of the Mark for three or four hours and look down on the hills of San Francisco.
The clothes and other things at the Kifissia Hotel weren’t too important—insurance would cover the loss. But the pipes... Mike hated to lose his pipes. Well, no matter. He’d find some good Barlings and Petersens in London.
It was completely dark now.
Mike crept toward the water but kept a full hundred yards distance from where the troops had fallen into formations. Soon the boats would be coming to get them.
He removed his clothes and emptied the last bits of tobacco from his pouch. The pouch was waterproof. He slipped off his shoes and then went through his pockets. The passport—money—the little white envelope. Mike stuffed them into the tobacco pouch and zipped it shut. He was ready for the swim to the boat.
An hour passed.
The wave of optimism on the beach ebbed into a feeling of uneasiness. An hour later conversation was down to a feeble hum which gradually dwindled to a few suspicious whispers....
A signal light cut the darkness....
A buzz of voices grew louder and louder and advanced up the beach like a flock of hornets.
“The ship’s aground on a sand bar!”
After a while the buzzing voices stilled and the eyes of a thousand men were fixed on the water. The silence was broken only by a stray prayer....
“Break loose, dammit! Break loose!” Mike pleaded.
Through the midnight hours the thread of hope grew thinner and thinner. It became obvious even to the most obstinate that she’d never pull away from the sand bar in time to load a thousand men.
Morrison retreated to the woods again. He flung the pouch to the ground. “Son of a bitch!” He slipped into the British uniform....
No time to while away in self-pity now. There’s more than enough of that out there to take care of me, he thought. Well, for damned sure the British Expeditionary Force was in trouble—real trouble and sinking deeper into it with every minute that passed.
A move had to be made. He couldn’t go on evading Mosley or the little man indefinitely. Another day—another hour? They’d catch up with him sooner or later. And in his anger he thought of his children. He did not want Jay and Lynn orphaned and forever wondering about the mysterious and unexplained disappearance of their father.
It would be dawn soon. Mike thought feverishly. Perhaps they had given up looking for him in Athens. There was still time to reach Athens. The Greek Army and British rear guard were still holding north of the city. If he could break free from here, he could shake Mosley and the little man. He would make for Nauplion and he’d shed the uniform. From there it would take only two or three days to get to Athens. The people were friendly; they’d help him along the way.
A crack of light on the horizon heralded a new day.
“Come on, lads, back to the woods.”
Soldiers slowly began filing back to the cover of the woods, too dejected to talk.
Mike skittered away