Yugoslavia near Medeno Polje, January 28th 1944
"Five minutes, gentlemen."
The corporal was doing last minute checks of the static lines attached to the supply cannisters, making sure nothing had tangled in the turbulent passage from Bari. Garrison checked all was in place with his own harness and equipment. His men were doing the same. What a change from their early missions, he thought. You'd almost think they were professional soldiers now - at least until they started scrapping with each other.
Freezing wind came whistling into the fuselage as the doors were thrown open and one by one the cylinders left the plane. As always, the Lieutenant jumped last, ready to take action in case anyone hesitated, but this was one of the good days. Not even Casino baulked this time. The C-47 droned on into the distance and was soon lost to sight.
The peace after enduring the cacophony of engines for hours on end would have been bliss - were it not for the frigid air that was forcing its way into his lungs. Parachute drops into western Bosnia in the height of winter weren't for the faint hearted.
Garrison found himself on the ground in a flattish field full of stubble from last year's harvest. A group of men, heavily clad in jackets, coats and gloves were already unpacking the cannisters and transferring the cargo into panniers secured on the backs of a group of mules. Even the mules were wearing rugs across their quarters. As proof of just how cold it was, snow had started to sift gently down from the sky.
One of the men had detached himself from the rest and asked a question briefly of Goniff. The cockney looked up from bundling up his parachute, spotted Garrison and pointed and the partisan made his way over.
"Garrison?" The lieutenant nodded. "You were lucky to get in before the weather closes in. Visibility has been impossible for the last few days and now it looks as though we have another storm coming. We must move quickly before there is too much snow on the trails for the mules."
One of the other men came over and took Garrison's parachute and harness. Even those were being packed onto the mules it would seem.
The partisan saw the Lieutenant watching with interest. "Yes, we take everything we can get. We are very short of supplies, so everything has a use."
Goniff and the others had made their way over and were waiting expectantly. They didn't have long to wait before the train of mules was on its way. Most of the men who'd loaded them had already gone.
The man who'd greeted them had gone away briefly. Now he returned and finally introduced himself. "My name is Luka, and I will be staying with you to interpret. I speak a little English but most of my men only have some Italian and Greek if you cannot speak Bosnian."
"You'll be alright then Actor," commented Goniff, digging the conman in his ribs. The expression on the man's face showed he was not impressed with the manoeuvre.
Luka led the Americans away from the drop area, but not on the same route the mules were following. He set a brisk pace that soon had everyone opening coats to cool down. The terrain changed from farmland to woodland and from flat to hilly. Eventually, after about five hours, their guide called a halt. "There's a cave up ahead where we can rest for a while. We've still some miles to go to our camp, but this next section is quite treacherous. It is better if we can see where we are going."
Chief had been roaming ahead, now he returned to rejoin the group. He pointed up the trail and held up two fingers.
Luka watched the tracker and gave a small smile. "He's good. Not many people would have spotted my men. Don't worry, they are just being careful. A good many people would have heard the aeroplane and will want to share in our good fortune."
Luka's cave provided some small amount of protection from the weather but wasn't much warmer than the woods had been. Fires were out of the question and once they weren't moving, hot bodies soon began to chill. Casino pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and was about to light one.
"No, it is not safe."
The safecracker glanced at Garrison and saw the minute shake of the head. Disconsolately he put them back in his pocket and rummaged in his pack for the energy bars instead. Goniff scooted across and sat next to him. "Why couldn't that plane have dropped us closer," he muttered to himself. "Don't mind sharing a bit of warmth do you mate?" he asked Casino, pressing his body closer. The New Yorker thought about objecting, but slight as he was, even Goniff was putting out heat. He stayed where he was.
"Hey, Beautiful, how about you come join us. Bet someone your size'd churn out some heat."
Ignoring the invitation, Actor stayed where he was against the opposite wall. Eventually even Chief came in out of the cold and curled up on the floor, with his pack protecting him somewhat from the wind that was managing to work its way into the cave.
No one slept very much, but at least the men rested. They were on their way as soon as they had light enough to see the trail. The snow had stopped and in its stead there was a heavy fog. Despite the poor visibility Garrison could feel that the terrain had changed. The trail was now little more than an animal track with a lot of exposed roots and loose rocks. Actor took a couple of heavy falls when misjudging his footing but was able to save himself from sliding off the path and down the steep valley side. The mules must have taken a longer route - there was no way the heavily laden animals could have followed this route.
About midday Chief finally knew they were getting close to human habitation. He could smell wood smoke mixed with a vague whiff of latrines and horse manure. It could have been any farmstead - but unless things opened out a bit he couldn't see this being good farming country. Luka's chaperones had disappeared about 30 minutes earlier - presumably to warn the camp of approaching visitors.
As everyone emerged from the trees they were met by a group of men pointing rifles in their direction. Seeing Luka they hesitated for a moment then lowered the barrels and watched as he went over and spoke to briefly to one of them. The conversation went on a lot longer than Garrison would have expected and he got the feeling that something wasn't quite right, but eventually the issue, whatever it was, was sorted and Luka came back to join the Lieutenant, although his expression was one of slight concern.
"These aren't my men," he explained. "I'm normally in Drvar with Tito's group, but this group had no-one to interpret. They will be happier once the mules arrive and they can see the presents you have brought with you. The big man over there is their leader." Luka pointed to a partisan standing a little distance away, by the entrance to a wooden shack. "He spent a lot of time fighting with the communists in the west, so his Italian is very good - once he trusts you. Now we wait for the supplies to arrive. They should be here before nightfall providing the Chetniks haven't intercepted them."
"Don't suppose there's anyfink to eat?" muttered Goniff, "I'm starvin'."
"You're always starvin'," countered Casino irritably. He was hungry too, but he didn't keep going on about it like Goniff did.
One of the partisans came over and said something unintelligible that no-one understood. He then followed it with a few words in Italian which Actor translated. "He says there is a stew pot inside the cave. We are welcome to share what they have."
Goniff started forward, but Garrison put a cautionary hand on his shoulder. "They probably don't have very much at this time of year and feeding five extra mouths is going to be a struggle."
Luka's predictions for the ETA of the mule train were spot on. Darkness was just starting to fall as the animals made their way tiredly into the clearing in front of the cave. Many hands made light work as packs were unloaded and the contents stowed away in the recesses of the cave system.
At last, the Partisan leader made his way over. "Matej Vukšić," he pronounced in a gravelly voice, holding out a grimy hand with broken finger-nails, "But they usually call me Orao. It means Eagle."
"Thought he didn't speak English," whispered Goniff to Casino.
"Yeah, I'm sure there are quite a few other things they haven't told us too," he whispered back.
G G G
Apart from the shack outside and the latrines, everything else was located in what turned out to be an extensive network of limestone caves. There was even a cave for the animals which included a couple of milk goats and a few scrawny chickens in addition to the mules. Garrison and his men were allocated a cave to themselves which boasted thin mattresses made out of branches covered with straw overlaid with sheepskins. They turned out to be surprisingly comfortable and warmer than expected, especially with five humans churning out heat of their own.
Food was boring, but adequate. A thin oat porridge in the mornings, courtesy of the goats, then a stew from a pot that was never emptied but just topped up with whatever anyone had been able to forage during the day. With Garrison, Actor and Casino fully employed working with Orao's men on the new munitions and radio equipment, Goniff and Chief had little to do. Chief took to going out with the foraging parties, managing to bring back a few squirrels and birds, whilst Goniff made friends with the goats and a couple of the friendlier mules.
Running a brush through the heavy winter coat of the well-built gelding that seemed keenest to solicit his attentions, the cockney couldn't help but think how things had changed in the last 12 months. A year ago, the closest he'd got to a horse was bucketing up the manure left by the coal man's pony. Now he could actually ride the damn things. He might even have a go at milking one of the goats if they stayed here long enough. At least they didn't kick you like the cows did. He's seen Millie sporting enough bruises from Mr McDonald's shorthorns to know he wasn't brave enough to take one of them on.
G G G
January 31st, three days since they'd landed in Yugoslavia, dawned cold and foggy yet again. There had been a light snowfall overnight. It would probably be quite pretty - if you could see more than a few feet in front of you.
Chief grabbed a bowl of the porridge and followed it with a few chunks of the bread that one of the men made every morning. It was light, white and fluffy, perfect for scooping up the ubiquitous stew. He'd asked Actor what it was called and he'd said the locals called it Lepinja. One of the men he'd been going out tracking with, who called himself Joško, was waving him over. They needed to get out there early to stand any chance of finding anything. The previous day they'd followed the trail of a couple of small deer. They were probably long gone, but there was always a chance...
Garrison had been splitting his time between demonstrating the new rocket launchers and having deep conversations with Orao and Luka. Despite his current appearance, Garrison got the impression that the tall partisan had been well educated in the past. He was certainly well aware of the current political situations in the Balkans and both men were keen to extract as much information from the Lieutenant as they could regarding how the war was progressing in the wider theatre.
Actor's mission was rather more out of his comfort zone, showing two of the men, who it had been decided might have some aptitude, how to take meteorological observations and transmit them to the Allies in Bari. Reliable weather data was desperately needed to improve the supply situation - too many flights were having to be aborted when they couldn't find their targets in the low cloud. As was to be expected, his Bosnian was coming along in leaps and bounds.
Casino finished his latest demonstration with the new timers they'd brought with them and decided he needed a cigarette and a visit to the latrine block. All these vegetables played havoc with his digestion. Ablutions finished, he walked a small way further into the woods and lit his cigarette, breathing deeply. It was bitterly cold and still foggy. Even such a short distance away from the camp he felt he was the only person out there.
G G G
"Anyone seen Casino?" It was Goniff that was the first one to realise the New Yorker wasn't in the group clustered around the kitchen area. The men he'd been working with were there, eating from bowls piled high with bread and stew. Goniff repeated the question in their direction and was rewarded with shrugs. A check of their sleeping area drew a blank as did the workshop area where he'd been demonstrating the explosives.
Garrison and Orao came back into the cave and Goniff sidled up to the Lieutenant. "Hey, Warden. Casino's AWOL," he said quietly.
"How long's he been gone?" The expression on Garrison's face showed his concern.
"Dunno - don't know how to ask."
Orao had listened in on the conversation and quickly checked with a few of his men. He was back quickly. "He went down to the latrines about an hour ago and they haven't seen him since. He wasn't there when Andrej went down there before lunch. You think something might have happened?"
Chief and Joško returned, looking jubilant. The deer they'd taken down was out front, waiting to be butchered. Venison would make a welcome addition to the camp's monotonous diet.
"Chief, looks like something's happened to Casino. See if you can see any signs." Garrison was relieved his tracker was back. The safecracker might be a law unto himself at times, but the Lieutenant was pretty sure he wouldn't just take off on his own in a strange country in the middle of winter. Something had to have happened.
With a nod of his head Orao told Joško to go with Chief. It didn't take long before they were back.
"Found signs of a scuffle 'bout 20 feet from the block. Four, maybe five, sets of prints and a half-smoked cigarette." Chief held up the butt. It was certainly the same brand as the ones Casino had brought with him. "Looks like someone was being dragged. Reckon he's been taken, Warden."
Orao had been questioning Joško in rapid Bosnian. "He thinks it's a Cheknik group. They know we have new supplies and will be wanting them for themselves."
Garrison wasn't convinced. "Why take Casino? He's no use to them."
"That, my friend, I do not know but it is of no matter for now. If you want your man back in one piece we must get after them now while the trail is still fresh."
Garrison started to reach for his gun and ammunition, but Orao stopped him.
"Stealth is more important than numbers. Let the trackers do their job. We will wait until we know where to go." The Partisan leader turned away.
Craig watched as Chief and the two men he'd been deer-hunting with vanished into the foggy morning.
It took a day for the three men to catch up with the fast-moving patrol. If it had all been on foot, they would have caught up faster, but after walking for about four hours their quarry had reached a road. They must have had a truck waiting for them there as there were fresh tyre tracks from a heavy vehicle in the snow. The pursuit seemed hopeless, but they kept going regardless. It was a major surprise therefore when they saw, in the distance, the truck stationary on the road. Carefully the three men crept closer, expecting to be ambushed at any moment, but the vehicle was deserted.
Chief ran an experienced eye over the abandoned truck, but it didn't take much skill to spot the pool of oil discolouring the snow. It looked like the gearbox might have given up the ghost.
Joško had been casting around checking for tracks. It was obvious which way the men had gone. It looked like there might be six now and they were definitely carrying a heavy load, so presumably Casino wasn't capable of walking. The Cekniks hadn't gone far before they'd holed up - the tracks led to a large farmhouse. Wisps of smoke from its chimney proved it was occupied. The two partisans spoke briefly to each other then the 2nd man headed back the way they'd come. Was he really going straight back to fetch reinforcements? It looked likely to Chief as he and Joško found themselves somewhere to shelter and settled down to watch.
They had a fair supply of high-calorie ration packs to eat, but water was a problem - there was snow aplenty, but no means of melting it. Cold was a problem too. They couldn't risk moving too much and being spotted, so only left cover to relieve themselves.
Not that much was happening. A few people crossed between the farmhouse and a wooden barn, but that was all. Was that where they were keeping their captive?
Under cover of darkness, Chief decided to get a little closer and see what was in the barn. In the end he learned very little. He could hear voices inside and once he heard a scream that sounded like it might be Casino's voice. Frustrated he crawled back to their hideout. He and Joško simply didn't have the resources to attempt a rescue.
Reinforcements arrived early the next afternoon and even Chief was surprised how fast the partisans had travelled, especially laden with munitions as they were. Orao and Garrison were there, along with about eight partisans, but there was no sign of either Actor or Goniff. Garrison slipped into the cover that concealed his scout and listened quietly as Chief described what he'd seen.
"Where's the others?"
"They'll be along shortly. They're bringing a couple of the mules, but they've had to take a longer route. We took a short-cut." Garrison checked the clip in his machine gun and handed a couple of grenades to Chief. "Ready for a bit of action?"
Chief nodded. Having heard what he'd heard last night, he was more than ready.
Garrison crashed through the front door of the farmhouse, spraying bullets indiscriminately into the interior and following them with two grenades. He jumped back to avoid the blast. The men inside had clearly not expected visitors - they'd still been reaching for their rifles when the explosives killed any further thoughts they may have had.
The men in the barn were better prepared, but their response was to fight back against their attackers rather than retreat behind their captive. They didn't stand a chance against the partisans.
The scene that met them in the barn was horrific. In the middle of the room was a wooden platform, with a forty-five degree incline. Strapped face down to the board, head at the low end, feet at the top, was a naked man, a wet towel draped across his head. A watering can sat on the floor alongside the contraption. The man's feet were covered with burns and wheals where a thin cane had been applied. Similar stripes criss-crossed his back.
Slowly, Garrison approached the man and pulled away the towel, proving to all who were watching that it was in fact Casino lying there, unconscious. Orao stood at Garrison's shoulder, looking down sadly.
"I am sorry, Warden, that we did not get here sooner. It will take him some time to recover. He will never forget."
Garrison looked up, surprised on Orao's use of his nickname, but maybe it wasn't so odd. His men used it all the time. Perhaps it sat better on the communist's psyche than acknowledging his Army rank and name.
Outside an animal brayed. The mules had arrived. Actor pushed his way into the barn and straight to Casino's side. Deftly he unfastened the straps holding the safecracker to the planks and looked with concern at the wounds on his feet. Casino was starting to regain consciousness and began to weakly fight against Actor's gentle investigations. The conman whispered something gently to the New Yorker. It took a moment, but eventually he stopped fighting and after a deep breath let Actor and Garrison lift him clear of the planks and set him gently down. Goniff appeared with a horse blanket in his hands that smelled strongly of mule, but it least it covered his friend's nakedness.
Casino almost fainted when the blood rushed from his head to his feet and he had to breathe deeply, but eventually the world steadied and he was able to open his eyes and look at the men who had rescued him.
Orao put his hand on Garrison's shoulder and drew him aside. "We must leave. I think it likely that they radioed for support and were just entertaining themselves until it arrived. I know the man who is lying in the snow outside - he was a member of the royal guard and has a reputation for enjoying this type of entertainment. The world will be a better place without him." The Partisan spat to emphasise his disdain.
His men were already outside, stripping what they could find that would be of use from the Cheknik soldiers and the farmhouse and loading them onto the mules. Some clothes were brought in, salvaged from the dead men, and gently eased onto Casino's damaged body. Boots would be impossible but sheepskin wraps should keep frostbite at bay with any luck.
One mule remained unloaded, the grey animal that Goniff had groomed, looking around itself curiously. Joško stood with it, waiting patiently.
"I think you must leave a little sooner than you expected, Warden, but no matter. We will radio our friends and arrange your pickup. Clearly your friend cannot walk 150km in his current state, so we will leave you with Senka. It means shadow and he is a very good mule. Joško will lead you through the mountains then bring Senka home. If all goes well, you will be met with a car and taken to Split. From there it will be a boat to Vis where your people will collect you."
"I hate boats," muttered Goniff, but nobody heard him.
G G G
It took 24 hours to trek through the mountains. Most of the time it was Goniff that led the mule, cajoling him through the more difficult bits and sharing his most intimate thoughts.
"Goniff, will you just can it? You're giving me a headache."
The cockney looked up in surprise. These were the first words Casino had uttered since they'd rescued him from the farmhouse and he'd sort of got used to treating the safecracker as if he was just another piece of luggage.
They'd stopped a couple of times to rest and feed Senka. They were obviously following a route the partisans used a lot as, at each of their halts, there had been hay stored under cover and clean water nearby. Accommodation for the humans was minimal, but each time they had found somewhere for their injured colleague to lie down. He'd immediately curled into a ball and turned away from everyone. Occasionally he would cry out as the bad dreams took hold.
On the plains a battered old truck was waiting, its driver huddled in the cab, wrapped in blankets. The handover was quick as Casino was helped onto the load bed and joined by the others. Garrison rode shotgun alongside the driver. Chief's leave-taking from Joško was brief as they clasped forearms.
"Zbogom prijatelju," tried the Indian, struggling a little to pronounce the unfamiliar words. 'Goodbye friend'. He'd had Actor teach him the words, so it might not have been quite correct, but it was the best he could do.
"Thank you. Travel well." Joško laughed. He'd been practising the words in his head on the walk. He'd enjoyed his time with the quiet American and was sad he would be leaving - he would have been a welcome addition to the partisan band.
The open-backed truck gave no protection from the weather apart from that provided by a stack of old sail cloth. Shared body heat was all the group had to keep each other warm. Packed so tightly they could all feel the bouts of shivering from Casino, but since his outburst to Goniff in the woods the safecracker had lapsed into silence again, even when the truck bounced over rocks and roots on one of the unmade tracks.
Finally, the smell of ocean reached Chief's nostrils. They must be getting close to the coast. A short while later the driver pulled off the road and climbing down from the cab came round to his passengers.
"Tutti parlano italiano?"
"Sì." Actor fought his way clear of the sails, careful not to tread on Casino, and jumped to the ground, wincing as frozen feet collided with the earth. Garrison made his way round from the other side of the truck. His Italian wasn't wonderful, but he would understand most of what was said.
"There is a fishing boat that will be waiting for you in Split that will take you to the island of Vis. From there your navy can take you to Italy. The port is in the hands of the Bosch but it is not well guarded. Getting you on board should not be a problem, but you will have to walk, and it may be too far for your friend."
"We'll manage." Having got this far, Garrison wouldn't be letting anyone get their hands on his safecracker.
"He'll need some less conspicuous clothes."
Casino was still wearing the 'uniform' stripped from the Chetnik soldiers. Chief had found his original clothing, but it had been soaking wet and smelled of urine. His captors were probably responsible - it was a classic humiliation technique. Deciding they weren't recoverable Chief had left the clothes behind.
Garrison nodded. He was sure they could come up with something.
Satisfied, the driver wandered off to relieve himself in the trees. It seemed like a good idea to the others too although Casino limited himself to the truck tyres, too sore to move further.
The truck wove its way slowly through the back streets of the town, avoiding places where it might attract attention. Garrison scanned the streets constantly on the lookout for some sort of hand cart, but it wasn't to be and eventually they could go no further.
"What now Warden?" Chief was out of the truck, standing alongside the Lieutenant, ever on the alert for trouble.
"We carry him." Garrison took his knife from his boot and started to make cuts across the sailcloth.
The driver started to object but took heed of the shake of Actor's head and the fact that the conman had a pistol in his hand. He stepped away and left the men to it.
The convoy that made its way onto the docks consisted of four men carrying a cloth wrapped bundle by means of canvas straps. A German sentry stepped out to make a cursory check - and recoiled. Coming from the 'package' was the distinct smell of rotting flesh.
"It is my sister's husband," explained Actor in Italian. "He was washed overboard last month, now we are taking him home."
His hand still pressed to his face, the sentry stood back and waved the men through.
The fishing boat was where expected - and, like the sentry, its crew were at first unwilling to take the 'dead body' on board. It wasn't just the smell, but also their deep-seated fear of having a corpse on their ship. It took all Actor's skill - and the promise of an increased fee - to persuade the men to let them board. They were clearly sceptical that the man was actually alive.
It was only when they were out of sight of land that Garrison was able to prove Actor right. The cloth was unrolled, the rotting pieces of pork that had been salvaged from the midden behind a butcher's shop, thrown overboard - and a distressed New Yorker revealed for all to see. Retching uncontrollably, he crawled to the gunwale and heaved his guts into the sea. Not that there was much to heave. He'd barely eaten or drunk in days.
Wiping his mouth, Casino turned back to glare at Garrison. "Never again. Never ever again. I've had it with you and your crazy schemes." He collapsed down onto the deck, breathing hard.
"Think he's grateful Warden," commented Goniff, looking down at the prone safecracker, pleased to see that he wasn't the only one to throw up on a boat.
Seven hours later they pulled into the harbour at Vis, having rocked and rolled their way across the Adriatic. Calm weather doesn't always mean flat seas and the corkscrewing motion was perfect for upsetting anyone with a delicate stomach.
The fishermen were only too delighted to offload their odoriferous cargo and hand them over to the US Navy patrol boat that was waiting for them. From there to Bari took another five and a half hours. Finally, the men were able to get cleaned up, get some food and - most importantly - get Casino some medical attention.