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CHAPTER ONE


The moon was trying to peer through the clouds in the early hours of a cold November morning as H.M.S. Renshaw battled her way through raging seas along the Norwegian coastline. Down in the cramped forward crew’s quarters a small group of commandos were going through their final stages ready for the landing that was to take place at dawn.
In command was a young Captain Collins, a twenty eight year old Cambridge lad following in the footsteps of the male members of his family, all of which had served at some time in some kind of conflict or another.
A young looking rating entered.
“Captain Collins?”
“Here sailor.”
“Captain Brant’s compliments sir, would you join him in the wardroom.”
The walk to the wardroom was a long and dangerous one as wave after wave hit the tiny corvette making it roll and pitch from side to side, sending the bow diving under the water and then breaking back through into the dark night’s sky as it slowly made headway through the unrelenting sea. At the wardroom door, Collins stopped, took a sharp intake of breath and knocked.
“Enter.”
The melodious tones of Captain Brant sent a spine tingling shiver down the young Captains back. Once inside Collins found Captain Brant and an army major huddled over a map spread out along the table. Captain Brant moved forward and introduced himself. He was in his fifties with silver grey hair and a weather beaten face that did not match his age.
“Hello Captain, this is Major Lewis; he will be in overall command of the operation.”

Major Lewis was not what Collins was expecting, he was well into his fifties overweight and going bald.
“Glad to meet you at last Captain, I've heard a lot about you and your team, I take it your men are ready.”
“Yes sir, we’ll be glad to get ashore.”
“Well, that will be soon enough, I want you and your men ready to disembark at 06.30hrs, understood.”
Major Lewis’s abrupt manner caused Collins to hesitate.
“Ah, yes sir.”
“Thank you Captain, that will be all for now.”
The young Captain turned and left the room without saying a word. Once outside he breathed a sigh of relief then struggled back along the walkway to the crew’s quarters.

Sergeant Major McFadden was sitting on an ammo box eating what looked like two-day-old dog food, but which turned out to be a can of soggy corned beef.
“Sergeant major, how the hell can you eat that shit?”
“Easy sir, you should try some it will settle your stomach.”
Collins turned away, McFadden allowed himself a wry smile, and carried on eating without a care, he was a well-built man, thirty-three years old, six foot four, ginger hair with brown eyes and a deep Scots accent. At the far end sitting under the crew’s bunks, a group of men were playing cards.
Corporal Hall was twenty -eight, slim built, five foot six, a Londoner (demolitions expert), Lance corporal Stevens twenty years of age Newcastle lad, five foot five, stocky (radio operator), Private Harrison, twenty -four years old, blonde hair with piercing blue eyes (brenn gun carrier). On the other side of the group were Private (Taffy) Thompson, heavy build, twenty-six year old from Cardiff (sniper) and Private Fields a nineteen year old Glaswegian (the second brenn gun carrier) the rest of the team were made up from the ships company, five in all, Collins called to McFadden.
“We’ve got a few hours before we disembark sergeant major, I suggest we all try and get some sleep.”
“Yes sir.”
McFadden belted out the order and the entire room became a hive of activity as they all settled into the remaining bunks. Now the only sound to be heard, was that of the ship’s bulkheads creaking and groaning as it hit the sea with unrelenting regularity.
Collins suddenly woke up to the sound of McFadden’s voice.
“Sir, its time, you’re wanted in the wardroom.”
The weather had dissipated and the walk up to the wardroom was a lot easier this time as the ship swayed gently in the now calmer sea. Off in the distance he could just make out the outline of land in the dim light of the sun as it broke through the clouds. Suddenly he got knot in the pit of his stomach; this was it, all those long cold winter nights training on Dartmoor, all the preparations, all leading to this moment. Collins knocked on the door to the wardroom and entered. Major Lewis was standing at a porthole starring out into the early morning sky.
“Your orders are in that map bag on the table Captain. Good luck.”
Collins picked up the bag and made for the door when Captain Brant called and moved forward to shake Collins hand.
“Good luck Captain.”
“Thank you.”

Brant turned to face Major Lewis.
“If you don’t mind me saying Major, I thought that was rather cold and callus of you, at least you could have faced the man.”
Major Lewis kept starring out of the porthole.
“These days Captain you can’t get too friendly with people you are sending to what could be their curtain death, and to be honest, I don’t expect to see that young man again.”
Collins made his way up on deck, where McFadden had the entire team assembled and ready.
“Over the side sergeant major, if you please.”
McFadden growled and they started scrambling down the cargo net into the waiting dinghies. As they made their way towards the shore, Collins took

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Publication Date: 06-05-2010

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