John Houseman's Diary - Mission EUCALYPTUS (part 3 of 7)

26th July:

Realising the futility of sitting where we were, getting nowhere and gradually growing weaker besides the fact no one had contacted us which was the primary object, we decided to move across the valley. Desmond, Boise, who said he'd like to come, and I. We realised the risks entailed, but saw in it the only hope of making contact with Andre, possibly Cmdt H, who, by now, must have sought hiding on the opposite side of the valley. At 3.30pm we said "good-bye" to the rest, who didn't appear to take our leaving them particularly well, took a few rations and left.

We were to learn later that the remainder of the party were surprised by a German patrol. The men, after castration, were beaten to death with rifle buts and the girl disembowelled and left to die with her intestines wound round her neck. I saw the photographs later - they were unrecognisable.

We surveyed St. Martin (now without any field glasses - I had lent mine for a coup-de-main raid a week or so ago). There was practically nothing living to be seen, beside an occasional motor car or bicycle. One or two farms were still burning, and the still afternoon was only disturbed by irregular rifle or machine gum fire besides patrols.

Three can move so much more easily than a larger party, besides which, there was no water to be had in the evening. I dreamed and thought of it.

We worked our way down disused tracks, stopping frequently to listen and sometimes hearing imaginary sounds. We all were very tired and weak.

Down the mountain side and through the undergrowth took us to a dangerously open track. There was, however, no alternatives so we moved as quickly as we could. Intermittent firing continued, but not, as far as one could tell, aimed at us.

About 7pm while forcing our way through thick undergrowth in an attempt to keep under cover and to take a short cut, a machine gun opened up just above our heads. We froze. I saw my much dreamed of drink fading before my eyes. They had evidently heard us, if not seen us, and anyhow no longer needed an excuse to spray the hills and bushes with frequent bursts. We waited where we fell until well after dark.

About 11 o'clock, Desmond and I could stand it no longer - we had craved so long for water, which was now actually within earshot, and we were parched. Leaving Bois where he was, and taking every sort of container we had, we crept out into the fields and towards the stream below.

Apart from the fact that I had little or no sense of direction, I am almost completely blind in the dark, and, for these reasons, I fear I represented an additional and unwelcome burden at times upon Desmond. I just couldn't help it, try as I might.

With some difficulty we found our way via tracks and trees to a large open field which led to this little stream. I was terrified lest finally we would not be able to reach it, or that we would be seen and be forced to turn back. Stage by stage we advanced with the usual sound of rushing water growing louder minute by minute.

While still in the open field across which we had to go a brilliant flash lit up the sky. The Germans were firing Very lights from the opposite hill to light up the woods. We fell on our faces. The flare died down, and we continued. Then another - and I thought the stream would prove to be nothing more than a beautiful mirage. Eventually, however, we made it - I shall never forget my relief. Lying beside the rushing torrent of water about which you had thought for several days perhaps more than anything else, to feel the cold clear water which fell straight from the mountain above - and to drink again. I went on. drinking until I thought I'd burst, and then drank more. We filled our containers, had a final drink and returned to Bois still sitting where we had left him.

We spent an exceptionally uncomfortable night sleeping on a gradient of 1 in 2.

27th July:

At dawn we moved to a safer place a few yards away. Desmond made a short recce and signalled me to join him.

We worked our way very silently through the woods westwards towards Fortes in order to survey the valley and possibly to get some food. We came to the end of the woods without incident. Crossing open clearings in broad daylight with complete absence of any knowledge of German positions was a little risky - but we were getting restless and a little more rash now - besides, we had to eat and move.

At the end of the clearings there was a small copse which bordered a wheat field. We ran into it, and sat down to watch. Three men were in the village a few hundred yards away, walking between two houses, and a number of civilians were in the fields. I realised at the time how difficult it was to discern between uniform and some darker civilian clothes. A brief discussion, and we decided to chance it.

Desmond rolled and ran down to the nearest farm buildings, where he spoke to a small boy, apparently failing to get any sense out of him. A woman appeared, and spoke to him, immediately warning him that the place was alive with Bosch. Desmond returned quite as quickly as he had gone! We neither of us lost much time in getting back to the top of that hill and into the cover of the trees.

During the last two or three days poor Bois had obviously been feeling the strain and tension badly. He was at least forty five, and lack of food and water, together with intense physical effort were beginning to tell on him. He was scared stiff to, poor fellow - and not without reason, he knew his fate if he was caught.

We told him all we had seen in the village, and suggested moving across the valley and through the German's lines that night. He wanted to wait for another day. Days, however, were valuable and we wanted to contact Andre with his wireless set as soon as possible. Bois agreed.

Waiting till almost dark, we crept out of our hiding place and down towards the stream. We drank again and filled our containers. Then began a nightmare trek across the valley we had
once practically owned and which we knew so well. (Here I must refer to Desmond's diary for the accurate sequence of events - many of which, owing to my night blindness, I scarcely saw)

Our thirst was quenched and hunger wasn't really bothering us - we set off full of hope for what seemed to be a new land far away, in which new hopes might be realised.

With Bois primed with benzedrine, and Desmond and I full of water, we set out across the stream into which, fortunately, nobody fell though I nearly did. Through the wood on the far side (from which we saw three Germans cross the field in front of us, call at a farm and return), and over the field, crossing occasional dykes, to the hedge on the farther side where we rested. A peculiar object appeared in the corn, looking uncommonly human. It proved, however, to be merely a shrub. On the road above us we heard German voices, as well as from the fields to our left. We were moving very silently. Always on these occasions I was the victim of an irrepressible cough - agonies I suffered biting my shirt and twisting myself into knots in an attempt to stifle it! We moved on across three more fields, feeling so large and conspicuous in the moonlight, until we finally struck the track which lead towards the road.

At this moment, as it seemed, the guns of all nations opened fire. The sky was filled with machine gun bullets and lit up by streaming tracer. Star shells added to these unwelcome fireworks. My knees were only too willing to give way beneath me, and gravity was on my side - I was flat on my face. Whether or not we had actually been seen we shall never know, but we must have been heard crossing the track. The Germans were nervous of being attacked by night by the Maquis, and weren't taking any chances - neither were we more than we had to. They were too near to be healthy.

We kept to the softer ground after this display until we reached a clump of trees when the guns opened up again from all directions. Poor Bois' moral dropped several degrees at once - and he became a real liability - terrified. We arranged a rendezvous in case we had to separate (I hated the thought of trying to find it with my remarkable aptitude for loosing my way).

To our right was St. Martin, to our left a farm house showing lights through the window - a sure sign of German habitation. There were 2-300 yards between them and their attendant M G posts, between which we had to pass. It was 2 am by now.

Moving on slowly, we reached an impenetrable hedge which forced us to go further south until we were almost directly opposite the farm house, where we found a way across the hedge and the water. The main road was on the far side, and practically without a sound we crossed all three, and up the bank on the other side. We collapsed in the corn.

Now we were confronted with a steep slope leading to the woods beyond where, in spite of the difficulty of walking quietly, one enjoyed a certain feeling of shelter and security.

Although the night was warm, and we were sweating freely as usual, I remember thinking I was going pretty well and that my pack felt lighter than usual.

After a short rest, we started off again - this time with exceptional care. Silent though I'm sure we were, the background let us down and we were seen. Bullets whistled, tracers flew and the Alps reverberated to the stream of machine gun fire on this still summer's evening. Three humble figures were squeezed very close to the ground. This was nearly the end of Bois. I wished he'd had the whole bottle of benzedrine for he became almost gibberish with fright, and lost his sense of direction into the bargain. Since I had never had one, everything now depended upon Desmond (as indeed it had done all day).

The firing didn't last long, but the Germans put their dogs on to us after it, but they didn't find the scent. Running, walking, crawling and rolling, through another burst of fire, we finally reached the crest and woods. We could hear German voices shouting and arguing, and we stumbled up and into the trees as quickly as our legs would carry us. Finding a farm yard on our left, (I remember feeling a little reassured at the sight of what once been a friendly establishment, though, doubtless now consisted of German quarters), when a dog, which had unfortunately not been drowned by its owner at birth, started barking with all the effort it could summon - this was the last straw. We squatted, and waited.

There was nothing Desmond and I wanted more than to put as much distance between the Germans and ourselves as we could - but Bois was done. He just couldn't go any further - his nerve had gone as well. There was nothing to do but to sleep where we were - dangerous as it was. We rested, if not slept, for a couple of hours, and as the day began to break, scrambled to our feet again. At that moment we saw that our feet had actually been on the edge of a fifty foot drop!, and, to add to our pleasant memories of that spot, an MG post was fifteen yards away. The occupant coughed and spat as we left - we could hear him quite clearly.

Bois, still unnerved by the night's ordeal, took over the task as guide. His first sortie was straight for the open fields in the wrong direction - his second directly for an MG post (both of which Desmond lost no time in correcting) and, finally, away into the woods in the direction of the cave.

We reached the edge of the woods opposite the cave after a 3 hour walk or so, leaving only a short stretch of open country to cross before finding the entrance of the cave. This we crossed and Bois, radiant and relieved, announced that we were "there". "There" we took to mean the cave itself, only to find, once more, that Bois had lost himself. Fortunately, not so badly this time, for after going round in circles for an hour or so, we found the entrance. Bois relapsed into a coma.

As we approached the entrance (it was a subterranean cave) we realised the real possibility of being met by a stream of fire from Andre's automatic (thinking he was being surprised by Germans) or, alternatively, fire from a German who might have taken up residence in Andre's absence. We advanced - guns in hand. Neither was the case - the cave was uninhabited. Our spirits sank. Andre had left without letting us know (perhaps he had no means) and our only contact with London was lost.

I went down the cave to see what there was there - but found no note or any indication of his movements. The stores and our kit were there, and so we took some more clothes, tobacco, etc.

Desmond left a note for Andre telling him we would stay in the vicinity for three days, in case he returned after we had left.

We wandered back into the woods to a position where we could watch a farm, to eat and sleep.

Desmond and I set out for the farm house after a couple of hours watching, to get food and information. The woman there was most helpful. Andre hadn't been seen since Sunday. The Germans visited the farm twice a day in patrols of 30 strong, and had announced their intentions of clearing the woods in which we were hiding. She gave us food, milk and water in exchange for tobacco and soap.

After a while Desmond and Bois decided to sleep in a little glade a few yards from where we were. I stayed behind.

Later I thought I'd be civilised and treat myself to a bath in a stream a few hundred yards away and to return to the glade afterwards to sleep. I made my way down the hill to my imaginary stream, which proved to be nothing more than poplar trees rustling in the breeze. I tried to return. I went on trying for two hours, and nowhere could I find the others. Feeling quite hopeless I sat down to wait, knowing that if all else failed I could at least meet up with them at the farm after dark where we had arranged to go. Eventually, I heard Desmond whistle and made my way towards him. I didn't expect much of a reception (he had been searching for me for two hours) and I certainly didn't get it. However, I entirely agreed with many things said, though not repeatable in a diary.

That night, with food and water inside us, we slept our first full night's sleep for sometime.

29th July:

Hung around all day until dark, when we collected more food from the farm. The Germans were in the woods and their control of the Vercors had become permanent.

30th July:

We decided that woods were becoming unsafe, and that we ought to move on. This time towards Rencurel. We got two days rations from the farm in exchange for tobacco, soap and my mackintosh. Had a terrible journey by the rear of St. Martin, St. Julien to the river, which we crossed in darkness. Bois was very unnerved and blundering. Desmond nearly broke down from thirst again. The day before he'd started to swell badly in the face from lack of water. He was an awful sight and I was really worried. Bois was constipated, which didn't add to the state of his health or mind, and we all had ten days growth of beard. Bois then twisted his ankle. The lack of water on this occasion was owing to a misunderstood statement
in French or English or a miscalculation on Bois' part. However, at nightfall, we reached the stream and drank.

We slept on the hill overlooking the village, but at dawn moved up again into the woods.

31st July:

Shaved and cleaned my teeth, the first time since leaving the Vercors, and felt much better. At night we crossed the river, not too easy, and went to bed on the far hill at 4 am. At dawn, we discovered that we were in full view of the village, and so we moved down into the wood where we hoped to contact Bois' friend for a guide and food.

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