Friday, 10 February 2017

A Sunday stroll

Messrs Smith and Robinson continue to explore the defences of the area. their stated occupation as commercial travellers standing them in good stead amongst the increasing security.
 They have an appointment on the Monday morning with a Miss Partridge of The Ladies Emporium in the small fishing village of Littletown, and decide to travel over on the Sunday, attend the church service and use the time to study the town.
The two men arrive on the local bus, meeting none of the increased security measures that have dogged them recently.
    The service they find a test of their patience and their bladders and when they follow the verger from the church, take the opportunity to turn right out of the town.
At the edge of town they observe farm carts placed ready to block the road, its approaches covered by a sandbagged slit trench.
  Moving off the road and into the woods to obey the call of nature they pass haystacks, one of which is actually a disguised pillbox.
  Emerging from the woods they take the rough road leading to the headland, observing that the verges have seen the passage of heavily laden vehicles.
  Unexpectedly they come across a manned guard post and are asked at gunpoint to show their papers and explain their presence.
  Sweat breaks out on their foreheads, is this it?
Fortunately their papers pass inspection and their excuse accepted with a smile.

They turn back and stroll along the quayside, observing the state of the tide, depth of water and suitability as a port to unload supplies once the invasion has started.
The defences seem poor, Anti glider poles in the meadows behind the town, a few pillboxes, plenty of sandbagged positions, but little wire, no sign of minefields and few Anti tank obstacles.
The harbour can obviously handle barge traffic though there seems to be no mechanical means of loading or unloading.
Their studies are interrupted by the approach of a policeman,
Nerves tighten.
Palms sweating, mouths dry, they turn and enter the pub opposite , exchanging a cheerful good evening with the constable.
As they emerge from the pub they pass the police station where a captured airman is being escorted to a military car, grateful that it is not they, for a firing squad awaits if they are caught.
A quick glance up the northern road shows strong police activity, so deciding that discretion is the better course the pair continue along the quayside.
Entry to the jetty is blocked by yet another sentry and the pair retire to their hotel for the night.
A reasonably successful visit, there were only three areas that they failed to recce,and tomorrow they would take the bus north and see what lays behind the low range of hills.


  1. Excellent stuff & good to see the story moving on as it's very enjoyable thanks for sharing.

  2. Damn spies! A wall and a firing squad IF they are lucky.