Right and Glory Read online

  Right and Glory

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Author’s Note

  Copyright

  Right and Glory

  James Barrington writing as Max Adams

  Chapter 1

  9 May 1940

  Gap of Visé, Belgium

  ‘Not another bloody fort,’ Eddie Dawson muttered, staring across the heavily wooded landscape towards a massive, slab-sided grey concrete structure, the huge and almost level top of which was covered in grass.

  ‘Well observed, Dawson,’ Major Sykes replied, striding along beside the corporal. ‘But this one might actually do the job, as long as Adolf hasn’t got any clever ideas up his sleeve.’

  Sykes had requested Dawson’s assistance two days earlier, but it had taken the corporal all that time to get across Belgium from Lille, just over the French border, where he’d been helping erect a series of anti-tank defences, to the Gap of Visé, the strip of territory that lay between Liège and Maastricht, close to Belgium’s eastern border with Germany.

  ‘So what am I supposed to be doing here, sir?’ Dawson asked.

  ‘Just the same as before. When you looked at that Maginot Line fort in France things didn’t go entirely according to plan, but the requirement’s still there. We still need to assess the strength of the static defences against a German invasion – which is coming very soon, mark my words.’

  ‘I heard Hitler wanted peace,’ Dawson said, glancing at the major. ‘A piece of Austria, a piece of Czechoslovakia, a piece of France.’

  ‘Funny, Dawson,’ Sykes replied, without a smile. ‘And unfortunately true.’

  ‘You think the Jerries would invade Belgium as well?’

  ‘I think Adolf intends to take over every country he can – certainly everywhere in Western Europe. He’s already doing his best to isolate Britain with his U-boats and surface raiders in the Atlantic, hitting merchant ships.’

  ‘I thought the Royal Navy was doing OK in the Atlantic. They sank that bloody Graf Spee back in December, didn’t they?’

  ‘That was just one ship, Dawson. A powerful and important ship, I grant you, but just one ship. Our cruisers were hopelessly outgunned, so we were very lucky the battle ended the way it did. We could easily have lost all three ships. And don’t forget we did lose the Royal Oak in Scapa Flow, of all places, a supposedly secure anchorage. In Europe, the German land forces walked into Denmark with barely a shot fired. Within a few months they’ll take Norway as well. Hitler will want Sweden’s iron ore resources as well, and I doubt the Swedes will give him much trouble. Soon his forces will be heading for Belgium and France. And then Britain, unless we can find a way to stop him.’

  ‘You almost sound like you admire him, sir.’

  Sykes stopped beside the track and stared to his front, looking at the few sections of the massive grey concrete fortress that projected above the ground.

  ‘It’s not a question of admiration, Dawson,’ Sykes said. ‘Adolf Hitler is, without the slightest doubt, a genius. An evil genius, but he’s a genius none the less. How else could an Austrian corporal and third-rate watercolour painter have managed to become the leader of Germany?’

  ‘Somebody told me he was a house-painter, not an artist,’ Dawson said. ‘Two undercoats and one gloss.’

  ‘Yet another myth that’s been circulated about him,’ Sykes said. ‘Did you know he fought for Germany in the Great War? And he was decorated twice for bravery.’

  Dawson shook his head.

  ‘We underestimate that man at our peril. He may not have had the classic background and training that makes a great military leader, but his record so far in this conflict is really impressive. All you have to do is look at what he’s achieved.’ Sykes ticked off the points as he spoke. ‘In 1936 he reoccupied the Rhineland. Two years later, he did the same with Austria and the Sudetenland area of Czechoslovakia. Last year, he annexed the rest of Czechoslovakia. All without serious opposition because of his political acumen.’

  ‘And then he marched into Poland,’ Dawson said.

  Sykes nodded. ‘Exactly. He’d been planning that move for long enough. Between you and me, Dawson, we – the intelligence bods, I mean – believe he orchestrated the timing perfectly.’

  ‘Hang on, sir. I heard that some Polish soldiers attacked German troops near the border, and that’s why the Jerries invaded.’

  ‘Not quite. The Germans claimed their radio station at a place called Gliewitz near the Polish border was assaulted by a Polish army patrol. That was the story. But now we think that it was just a ruse. The Poles have no record of any troops in any action with German forces in that area at that time. Latest intelligence suggests the Germans took a group of men out of a prison camp somewhere, dressed them in Polish army uniforms, faked an attack on the radio station and then shot them. That provided the excuse Hitler needed, something he could show to the world as an act of unprovoked aggression. And it’s difficult to argue with because the only people who can prove they weren’t Polish soldiers are all dead. That’s why we’re here now – the invasion of Poland finally brought Britain and France into the war.’

  ‘And the Jerries smashed the Poles in a month,’ Dawson said. ‘That Blitzkrieg thing.’

  ‘Yes. It translates as “lightning war”, which is a very apt description. The Polish armed forces were tiny and ill-equipped. Their army numbered about three hundred thousand, and they faced two and a half million German troops. They sent cavalry units out to face Panzer tank divisions. Their aircraft were old and obsolete. The conquest of Poland only took so long because the Poles refused to surrender until they had absolutely no other choice. They’re a very brave people. And you can see that in the figures. In that short campaign, the Germans lost about fifteen thousand men.’

  ‘You think Belgium might be next, sir?’

  Sykes shook his head. ‘That I don’t know. But if you look at a map of Western Europe, you’ll see that if the Germans want to conquer France – and I don’t think there’s any doubt that walking down the Champs-Elysées is high on Hitler’s list of objectives – they really have no choice but to go through Belgium, and they’ll have to subdue Holland as well. The French did get one thing right. The Maginot Line down to the south of Luxembourg is simply too tough an obstacle for an invading army to crack. I’ve no doubt the Germans will break through it eventually, but the open plains of Belgium and Northern France are the obvious route for his forces to take. So sooner or later he’ll send his troops this way. And there’s another reason as well. Before Hitler can tackle us, he’ll have to conquer
Belgium and France at least – he must get control of the Channel ports on the Continent if he wants to launch an invasion of Britain.’

  ‘Kind of domino effect, then. First Holland and Belgium, then France, and finally Britain?’

  ‘Exactly. Anyway, Dawson, we’ve been sent here to take a look at this fort – it’s called Eben Emael, by the way – and the other defences in this area, so let’s do that.’

  The two men stopped and stared down the lane. Directly in front of them, to the north, was a massive, near-vertical, concrete wall. The wall looked to Dawson as if it was around 400 yards in length, and clearly formed one boundary of the fort. At each end of it was an armoured circular observation post, with machine-gun ports and openings for heavier weapons as well. Beyond each observation post was a further massive length of reinforced concrete wall, linked to the main section at an angle of about forty-five degrees to enclose the heart of the fortress. Above the walls, a rounded grassy mound extended well to the north, a couple of what looked like steel cupolas for heavy weapons set into it.

  ‘A bit different to that last place we looked at,’ Dawson muttered.

  ‘That’s something of an understatement,’ Sykes said. ‘Eben Emael is probably the strongest and most powerful fort ever built. It’s certainly the most powerful fortification in Belgium. It’s shaped like a triangle or a wedge of cheese, with the point aiming north, towards Liège. We’re looking at the base, at the southern end. Overall, it’s about eleven hundred yards from north to south, and eight hundred yards from east to west. It’s a huge structure, built into the rock of this plateau, and it carries a formidable armament.’

  Men wearing unfamiliar uniforms strode around outside the fortress and, as they looked over towards it, an officer spotted them standing there and headed in their direction.

  ‘Do they know you’re coming this time, sir?’ Dawson asked innocently, recalling what had happened in France the previous year, when the two men had been on a similar mission.

  ‘I think so, yes.’

  The Belgian officer stopped in front of them and snapped off a crisp salute that Sykes returned somewhat casually.

  ‘I’m Capitaine Verbois, sir,’ the Belgian officer said, his English reasonably fluent. ‘Are you Major Sykes?’

  Sykes answered the question with a nod. ‘Yes, and this is Corporal Dawson. He’s my explosives expert.’

  Verbois looked at Dawson with interest. ‘I understand you are here to assess the tactical situation, Major, and the ability of Fort Eben Emael to guard this section of the border, but I do not understand what for the corporal is here.’

  ‘He’s here to see how easy it would be to blow the place apart.’

  For a few moments Verbois just stared at Dawson. Then his mouth curled into a smile, and then he laughed out loud.

  ‘Blow it apart?’ he said. ‘Blow it apart? You obviously have no idea how strong Eben Emael is. Nothing can “blow it apart”, as you put it. This fort is invulnerable.’

  ‘That’s a very impressive claim,’ Sykes said. ‘Can you justify it?’

  ‘Of course, sir. Let me explain. This structure takes four years to build. We do not even start work on it until 1931, when it was clear Germany was going to be again a problem.’

  ‘That’s one way of putting it, I suppose,’ Sykes murmured. ‘Germany’s quite a big problem now, though, isn’t it?’

  ‘Of course, which shows that our government is absolutely right to embark on this huge project. Our country has a problem: if Germany ever chooses to invade France, the route most obvious for the invading army would be through Belgium.’

  ‘Just what I was saying to you, Dawson.’

  ‘That happened in the Great War,’ Verbois continued. ‘In 1914, we faced an army that outnumbered us ten to one. We had only two defences – our neutrality, which was ignored by the Germans, of course – and the line of defensive forts we had built along our eastern border to protect Liège and Antwerp. When Germans invaded in August, they used heavy artillery, specially designed heavy mortars, to pound these forts into submission in a matter of days. We had badly miscalculated the effect of their heavy weapons. It is not a mistake we are ever going to repeat. My country is still neutral, but we have also followed the example of our French neighbours and renovated and enlarged all the old forts in this area.

  ‘But we already know that will not be enough. This area is of vital strategic importance. To the north is the junction of the Meuse River with the Albert Canal, and three bridges that cross the canal. These two waterways are the biggest natural obstacle any German invasion would face here, and this fort dominates the whole area. We have plenty of armament. The main cupola, Cupola One Twenty, is equipped with two one hundred-and-twenty-millimetre cannons with a range of twenty kilometres – that’s about twelve English miles – and they are integrated with the weapons installed at the other nearby forts. Then we have four reinforced concrete casemates, each armed with three seventy-five-millimetre cannon, with a range of five miles. Two are named Maastricht One and Two, and they cover the area to the north of the fort. The other two face south, towards Visé, and are called Visé One and Two. Then we have two further cupolas – Cupola Nord and Cupola Sud – each designed to be able to fire in all directions. They have two seventy-five-millimetre cannons each. Finally, just in case we need to engage the enemy at close range, we have two heavy machine-gun positions, Mi-Nord and Mi-Sud, which cover the whole roof of the fort and the surrounding area. Believe me, we will cut any German advance to pieces long before Liège or Antwerp are threatened,’ Verbois finished triumphantly.

  ‘Suppose this time that the Germans have got even bigger and better artillery than they had twenty-five years ago?’

  ‘It would not matter. The tunnels that link the various sections of the fort are between twenty and thirty metres below the surface of the plateau in which we built the fort. The tunnels themselves are made of one-and-a-half-metre-thick reinforced concrete, as are all the other structures. The cupolas that house the weapons are protected by about thirty centimetres of steel, and can be retracted into the concrete surroundings. We have steel blast doors inside the fort that can seal off sections of it in event of an attack. Every strategic target within twenty kilometres has been plotted precisely, and can be accurately engaged by the weapons with no need for gun-layers to see their targets. At ground level the fort is protected by the Albert Canal itself, minefields and anti-tank ditches. All possible approaches are covered by observation posts and blockhouses equipped with machine-guns and sixty-millimetre anti-tank weapons. Finally, there is only a single entrance to the complex. So I say again – Fort Eben Emael is impregnable.’

  Dawson had listened to the enthusiastic summary delivered by the young capitaine with keen interest, and now he nodded his head.

  ‘You might even be right about that, sir.’

  ‘You haven’t mentioned anti-aircraft defences,’ Sykes pointed out.

  ‘We have never assessed that air raids will be a serious threat. Not even dive-bombers with heavy bombs can penetrate the huge thickness of earth and rock above the fort’s main passageways. But we do have machine-guns.’

  ‘Machine-guns?’ Sykes echoed. ‘No Vickers seventy-five millimetres, nothing like that?’

  The Vickers-Armstrong model 1936/39 anti-aircraft gun was quite a successful weapon that could engage aircraft flying as high as 33,000 feet, and could fire twelve rounds of high-explosive a minute. Belgium was one of several European nations which had purchased the weapon.

  Verbois shook his head. ‘Our forces have Vickers guns, but they are deployed around softer targets than this fort. Major cities, for instance.’

  ‘So how many machine-guns do you have?’ Sykes asked. ‘For anti-aircraft fire, I mean.’

  ‘Four.’

  Sykes glanced at Dawson, who just shrugged.

  ‘It is not a problem, Major,’ Verbois insisted. ‘This fort is impregnable from a land assault, and any bombs would only shake hard
the place, nothing more.’

  Sykes nodded. ‘One point of view, certainly. Personally, I’d stick an AA battery on each corner of the place and maybe a couple on the top as well, just in case, but not my decision, thank God. Anyway, could you give us a quick tour and then we’ll get out of your way?’

  * * *

  In the late afternoon, just over three hours later, Sykes and Dawson emerged from the armoured steel door of Block One, the entrance to Fort Eben Emael, and took their leave of Capitaine Verbois.

  ‘Interesting,’ Dawson commented, as they walked away, heading for the staff car Sykes had been issued with, which he’d parked some distance from the fort itself. ‘It’s actually a pretty bloody impressive place. A full garrison of twelve hundred men – I know they’ve only got about six hundred there now – around five miles of tunnels, and those internal steel doors will stop pretty much any kind of explosive I know. It’d take days just to blast a hole in one of the blockhouses – that’s if you can dodge the machine-gun bullets. And the interior is really well equipped as well, with its own generator for power and even a hospital. I think that young officer is probably right. This place is as impregnable as anywhere I’ve ever seen.’

  Sykes didn’t respond for a few moments, then he nodded. ‘You’re right. It is impregnable against a conventional attack, and that’s what my report will say.’

  ‘They don’t seem the happiest of troops, sir. I can’t talk to any of them, because I only know a few words of French, but it didn’t look to me as if their morale is all that high.’

  ‘They’re probably just bored, running exercises all the time and doing drills. They might even welcome the chance to see a bit of action.’

  Dawson shifted the sling of his Lee-Enfield .303 rifle slightly to avoid it chafing his shoulder and marched on without breaking his stride.

  They made an odd couple. Dawson was tall, dark, solidly built and rugged, with features that seemed somehow rough-hewn. He towered over his companion. He’d been a mining engineer before the war, and was an expert with explosives of all kinds, which was why he’d been ordered to make up the other half of this unlikely team. He knew how to blow things up better than almost anyone else in the entire British army.