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Vulliger looks dirty, as if he'd been on the move for some time. He’s on a recce for Divisional H.Q which is some miles back the way Moss had came. Vulliger explains that situation has turned into something of a shooting gallery with the British as the targets. Most of their reinforcing supplies have been falling into enemy hands and they’re all very short of food and ammo. Vulliger also says that he passed a six pounder anti-tank gun a while back which appeared to be abandoned.

Moss suggests that they should spike the barrel to stop it from falling into enemy hands. The two men slip off in single file, Vulliger leading the way. They go back to the place where he'd been imprisoned in the collapsed trench.

There's no sign of the tank. They stop and crouch down behind a low wall.

They scurry away...

LEAFY LANE

...about fifty yards beyond the trench lies the six pounder, sandbagged and ready for action, partially concealed. The muzzle and shield of the gun are covered in camouflage netting as well as bits of foliage. Inside the shield are many bullet ricochet marks and blood splatters.

As Moss and Vulliger slip down behind the gun they spot the stationary form of the King Tiger tank, parked further up the leafy lane. Moss has a quick root around amongst all the empty six pounder shell casings and ammo boxes. All the shells are spent.

Moss cautiously peers over the top and sees that the turret hatch on the tank has opened. No one has appeared at it but German voices are wafted in their direction on the wind.

Carefully, Moss opens up the six pounder gun's breech and much to his surprise an unfired discarding SABOT shell springs out into his hands. Quickly he rams it back into the breech.

Moss orders Vulliger to traverse the centre line on the tank's gun — Vulliger thinks he’s mad and wants to go. Reluctantly Vulliger does as he's told while Moss jiggles with the elevation control. He presses his face against the eye piece.

MOSS' P.O.V - THROUGH SIX POUNDER GUN SIGHT

The gun cross-hairs move jerkily and line up on the tank's gun barrel and turret. Dead centre.

Back on Moss.

He sets the eyepiece to 250 yards range and readjusts the elevation, almost beside himself with excitement.

He then takes out his last grenade, pulls out the pin and holds it in his left hand.

Both men look at each other. He checks once more through the eyepiece. Seven second fuse.

Moss squeezes the trigger and the gun bucks against his shoulder. KERBOOM! The barrel roars, spitting flames and smoke. The smoking shell casing is ejected out the back. Moss shoves the grenade up the breech.

Both men get up, turn and flee in a crouched stance. As Moss turns he sees that the six pounder shell has wrecked the King Tiger's cannon.

However, through the smoke a shape rises out of the open tank turret.

The Paratroopers run, legs pounding.

The grenade explodes wrecking the six pounder while machine gun fire rains down on the metallic shield.

Zig-zagging left and right, both men run towards a small area of woods as gun fire from the tank wooshes after them.

Moss is having a job keeping with Vulliger, but despite this is laughing to himself and singing " Run, run, as fast as you can, you can't catch me I'm the Gingerbread man"

Eventually the two men disappear into some woods and all is quiet.

OOSTERBECK - DAY

The sound of exploding mortar shells, artillery fire and machine guns drifts all around us on the wind.

In less than 72 hours the place has been reduced to a shambles. It's a ravished and raw landscape. There's rubble and charred wood everywhere, slit trenches have been dug in the ground, and in the windows of abandoned buildings, tattered curtains blow in the breeze.

Spent cartridges glitter ankle deep in places like so much Fool's Gold. Roads are barricaded with burned out vehicles and debris - jeeps, German tanks, trucks, doors and bath tubs. Bodies of soldiers lie stacked everywhere mixed with civilians.

Moss and Vulliger trudge wearily along the road with a few other stragglers and men separated from their units

Near the Church in Lower Oosterbek in the Deer park around the Hartenstein Hotel, hollow-eyed Paratroopers man positions, tiredness etched in their faces.

HARTENSTEIN HOTEL GROUNDS - OOSTERBECK - DAY

Moss and Vulliger stagger into town with other motley looking collections of men. They head towards the Hotel where German POW's are kept under guard in some tennis courts surrounded by a chain link fence.

The two weary soldiers drop into a trench near some other soldiers who are brewing up and cooking food.

Vulliger is rummaging through his jacket taking out scraps of paper on which he's written all kinds of observations and intelligence.

The two men look at each other and then across at the next trench where the sound and smell of cooking food wofts across.

They stand up in the trench and start to climb out when...

KERBOOOOMMMMMM!

A horrendously loud explosion takes place nearby although there's no sign of an impact. Then a mortar bomb goes off fifteen yards away throwing both men back into the trench violently.

A huge black cloud of dust goes up into the air. Several soldiers have been killed. Blood and limbs rain down everywhere.

On Moss.

Eyes wide, he looks dazed.

In pain, he feels for the top of his head. Clumsily his hand slaps on his helmet. He can’t feel his head and thinks the top of it has been blown off. He looks across at Vulliger whose eyes are wide, staring and glazed. He just sits there, head in his hands, making no noise. Moss shakes him, trying to get a response. He's catatonic.

Moss takes off his own helmet and there's a wide metal line impressed in his forehead. The explosion pushed it into the skin. Tentatively reaches onto his head and feels around. It's still there.

A soldier scurries past, pausing to look down into the trench, kneeling.

Soldiers and Medics start to appear and deal with the wounded.

Moss hauls Vulliger out of the trench and help him towards the hotel in search of medical aid.

"Someone in authority spoke to us both that day and realising we were from the same battalion arranged for us to go on the trailer of a seventeen pounder, complete with gun, to see if we could join what I now know was called the Lonsdale Force. This was a motley collection of the remnants of those batallions, which had sustained such heavy losses from the advance into and the withdrawal from Arnhem, they could no longer operate in their original form. However, our attempted escape was short lived as we met heavy German armour and had to turn back."

TRENCHES - HARTENSTEIN HOTEL GROUNDS - DAY

Moss and Vulliger are cooking some food with a few other soldiers near some slit trenches.

"We spent the rest of the day in Divisional H.Q in comparative peace. We managed to have a brew up using tea cubes which formed part of our ration packs and were made from compacted tea, sugar and milk. We also had some hot soup into which hard tack biscuits were dunked. To me it felt better than a picnic at the Riverside Inn."

NIGHT

Moss is huddled in a small trench on his own, shivering and trying to sleep.

Occasionally his face is lit up by a parachute flare fired up into the sky.

"Night fell but two in a trench doesn't make for pleasant dreams. Even the night seemed to hold an indefinable menace as silence was broken occasionally by small arms fire and the darkness relieved by small parachute flares. So it was that I drifted restlessly into Saturday when dawn was heralded once more by the thud of mortar fire."

Saturday 23rd September

HASTERSTEIN HOTEL GROUNDS - DAWN

A light mist has settled on the area but the dawn silence is broken by the distant thud, thud, thud of German mortar fire.

Moss walks along holding three metal mugs of steaming tea bought from a temporary canteen erected outside. Men queue up at it longingly waiting to be served.

Moss slips down into a trench where Vulliger sits, staring blankly at the wall. He has to put the cup into Vulliger's hand before he acknowledges he's there. He's withdrawn, almost taciturn.

Moss opens up his untouched ration pack and watches a SHELL-SHOCKED PARATROOPER wandering around with a dazed expression on his face. He's trying to talk to the dead, wounded or anyone that will listen.

He bends down and kneels over a corpse, whispering into the dead man's ear "Have you got faith?"

A TRAUMATISED PARATROOPER breaks from his trench nearby and runs in panic into a wooden shed, shouting and shooting. He locks himself inside. Several Paratroopers run after the soldier.

He starts firing from inside the wooden hut, bullets exploding outwards through the planking. The pursuing Paratroopers take cover.

Silence. The shooting and shouting ceases.

A single shot rings out.

Soldier starts pouring out of their trenches as American C-47's appear low over the horizon. Pretty soon they're whooshing overhead, their engines growling as Paratroopers wave and shout.

Crates, drums and cylinders with flowering parachutes start to drop out of the back, but they're all falling in enemy held territory. The cheers of the Paratroopers soon fall silent when they see what's happening — they’re dropping the supplies on the Germans.

CELLAR - HARTENSTEIN HOTEL - DAY

It's gloomy, dank and resembles a medieval dungeon with wounded, bloodied, bandaged bodies lying in every conceivable place.

It's hard to tell where it starts but SOMEONE starts singing the classic hymn "Abide With Me". It's a lone voice at first but soon the singer is joined by a few more. Then, before you know it the whole room is singing.

HARTENSTEIN HOTEL GROUNDS - DAY

Grim-faced men, weary mud-stained men start to take notice, their ears pricking up as the strains of "Abide With Me" filter up and out of the Hotel building.

Some men in a trench join in, followed by the men in the trench next to them and pretty soon everyone is singing "Abide With Me".

When the singing ends, when the last words are sung, the silence is deafening. Men in trenches look at the comrades next to them with new heart.

A mortar shell whizzes over and explodes nearby, causing everyone to duck.

TRENCH - HARTENSTEIN HOTEL GROUNDS - DUSK

Night is falling. Moss and the taciturn Vulliger are resting in a slit trench, checking their weapons.

Saturday 23rd September

FARMHOUSE - OOSTERBEK - DAY

As part of a small column of men, Moss and Vulliger march towards a large farmhouse which is the centre of much allied activity. It's been fortified with slit trenches, machine gun posts and anti-tank emplacements. Signs of extensive shelling and mortar bombardment are evident everywhere.

"Later that day we were taken to join a contingent of the South Staffordshire Borderers who were situated in the north west of the perimeter. The H.Q was a farmhouse which housed the customary cellar. This was being used as a first aid post and was littered with bodies."

A British Typhoon fighter plane flies low overhead rockets mounted under each wing in racks. There have been precious few Allied aircraft around lately and it attracts much attention and a few cheers.

From the farmhouse a lane runs northwards slightly downhill. Both sides of the lane are lined with trees to a width of ten feet or so. It's finished off on both sides with a hedge some five or six feet high.

"My head still hurt from the mortar blast, the pain in my chest only eased when I was still and my back and right leg gave me problems when I was mobile. Yet despite all this I knew that I had been luckier than some."

Moss slips down into a trench with a BRITISH BREN GUNNER.

"I got into a trench by the house which held a Bren gunner and tried to strike up a conversation but he didn't appear at all friendly. It was as if people were at the end of their tether. Rations were low, water was scarce and there was a general feeling of depression. I gave up trying to illicit information and tried to settle down. I don't remember a lot about the remainder of that day or night come to that."

Sunday 24th September

FARMHOUSE - OOSTERBECK - DAY

We're at the end of a country lane. A few hundred yards away the old farmhouse is under German mortar fire.

Moss and Vulliger are in a trench together watching the shells explode. Nearby in several other trenches backing onto some low walls, more soldiers take cover from the mortar fire.

Smoke drifts across the scene from exploding smoke shells, laying down a thick cover.

"The day began with the usual dawn chorus and continued for some time while we took up positions in some trenches at the end of the lane. When dark came we had orders to withdraw back to the farmhouse. In the meantime we waited for an attack."

Every so often the mortar shelling stops and strange noises drift along, carried with the smoke on the breeze. These include German chatter, weapons being readied and an odd pop-pop-pop noise.

"We must have been quite near to the enemy as we could hear the sounds of German chatter and weapons being readied. I kept hearing what I thought to be the sound of a single cylinder long stroke motor cycle engine and wondered what it was. As time passed the noise seemed to move and emanate from different directions. Several times we were warned that an attack was imminent but none came and we stood down. For some time the majority of our supplies had been dropped in enemy territory and it's possible the Germans were firing our own mortar smoke not knowing what it was. When no attack came I did one of the most stupid things that I have ever done."

Moss slips into an adjacent trench which is outside the hedge and in the open.

It's not very big. Making himself small Moss brings both knees up, his back propped against one end, feet against the other. There's no more than fifteen inches between his knees and face.

After a very short while he starts to doze off.

Across the way, in the trees, a three man GERMAN MACHINE GUN team run into position. Carrying an tripod mounted MG 34 with fixed lines, they set up to fire downwards from an elevated position.

These guns fire 900 rounds per minute and are effective killing machines. They unleash 50 round belts which can be coupled up to 250 rounds in length before the barrel gets hot and needs to be changed

Muttering amongst themselves, they've clearly seen Moss asleep in the trench and lock and load.

After a few moments...

The German Gunner is ready go. He's tapped on the helmet by his colleagues. He takes aim, squeezes the trigger and fires.

The barrel spits fire and sounds like ripping paper.

In the trench.

Moss dozes.

We hear the sound of ripping paper and bullets tear through the earthen rampart on one side of the trench before they impact with the far wall.

Moss freezes in fear, watching the foot wide cone of fire rip through the fifteen inch gap between his body and legs.

He tries to push himself lower in the trench but there's nowhere he can go, nothing he can do.

It's working its way down.

Then, as abruptly as it began, the assault stops.

In fear and panic Moss leaps out of the trench like a grey hound. The Germans are reloading.

He and scrambles head first back into the other trench with Vulliger. Moss' hands are shaking in fear. He looks pale and drawn.

"The rest of the day passed uneventfully towards evening but now it was firmly reinforced in my mind that there people out there trying to kill us. Back at the farmhouse we scraped together what supplies we could but hunger was a thing of the past, a luxury we could ill afford. Bits of hard tack, a smidgen of soup finished off with a cigarette if you were lucky. Chocolate was now non-existent. We spent another night huddled together not knowing what the next day would bring or how much longer the farce would continue."

Monday September 25th

TRENCHES - FARMHOUSE - DAWN

Behind the farmhouse, at the end of the lane, a group of soldiers are brewing up shielded by a hedge and low wall.

Moss boils some water in a tin helmet over a low smoking stove while the others mutter amongst themselves and pool their rations. Adding some tea cubes the boiling water turns a purple colour. He pours the liquid out into mugs and offers it around — the tea is purple.

That sound drifts by on the wind again - the one that appears to be a single cylinder long stroke motor cycle engine. Off in the distance. Moving slowly.

They listen. The sound drifts in and out on the wind between distant mortar shelling.

Suddenly a heavy mortar bombardment begins. KERBOOM!

There are loud explosions as the shells detonate nearby, throwing up huge clouds of dirt and smoke.

The men scramble for their trenches. The sound of small arms fire rings out.

Through the trees and down the lane German soldiers start to scurry, their dark shapes making ominous forms through the foliage.

The mortars stop. Silence.

Then...

The Germans start a ferocious assault on the trench positions, firing on the British positions with MG 32's, small arms and grenades.

Moss and a Polish paratrooper are in a trench together. They ready their weapons and check their ammunition.

German soldiers start moving forwards and are immediately met by a barrage of British rifle and machine gun fire plus a hail of grenades. It's an intense firefight, albeit short lived.

Moss fires, cocks his rifle to eject the spent smoking shell casing, and fires again. Beside him the Pole throws a grenade.

Something wooshes overhead and explodes amongst the Germans, sending up a plume of smoke and dirt. From nowhere a Cabbage hits Wosia on the back of the head and falls to the bottom of the muddy trench.

They look behind and see TWO PARATROOPERS manning a six pounder anti-tank gun in a field of cabbages. As they fire another round, the low flying shell sucks up a line of cabbages in its path, throwing them all over the place.

A German half-track tries to move up the road but soon explodes in flames when hit by a PIAT round. Screaming and burning the German soldiers inside try to escape.

Under intense fire, the Germans foot-soldiers fall back briefly to the woods to regroup.

The remaining men in the trenches call out their names so they know how large their force is. There's maybe two dozen of them at most. Not much with which to resist a determined attacker.

Moss hears that sound again. The stuttering pop, pop, pop of a single cylinder engine. Only this time closer.

Moss peers out of the trench and looks back towards the farmhouse where a German Tiger tank fitted with a flame thrower is belching fire on the building. It's also raking the area with a machine gun.

The Free Polish soldier turns back, eyes wide with horror. Men on fire run from the farmhouse only to be machine gunned down.

They look back across to the woods where they can see the Germans regrouping and lining up some mortars and MG 34's.

A mortar shell whooshes through the air and explodes nearby as Paratroopers flee from their trenches back towards the farmhouse and rear positions.

The Pole and Moss stay in their trench, laying down covering fire. Moss' rifle is out of bullets. He throws it down and draws his Colt pistol.

He looks across to one side and sees a GERMAN GUNNER and his GUNNER'S MATE running up with an MG 34 and several cans of ammunition.

Taking aim with the pistol he first shoots the Gunner dead and then the Gunner's Mate.

The trench is then raked with gunfire from another mobile MG 34 team forcing both Moss and the Pole to take duck down behind the earthen ramparts.

The Pole tells Moss to fall back — he’ll provide covering fire. When Moss is safe he must provide covering fire for him. The two men look at each other and quickly shake hands, nodding. This could be the last few moments for both of them.

Moss leaps up out of the trench and starts running for the trees, dodging this way and that, avoiding shell holes, corpses and low bushes.

Mortar shells explode all around along with MG 34 gunfire from German positions, rifle fire, pistols - everything you can imagine is being shot at him. Bullets explode into the ground, ripping branches off shrubs and small trees.

Breathless, Moss arrives at a densely wooded copse and throws himself down while bullets whiz overhead.

Rolling over, not even looking, he shouts back down the hill towards the trench he just left...

Taking aim with his pistol to give covering fire, Moss looks up just in time to see several Germans leaping into the slit trench he left and bayoneting the Pole to death.

More gunfire sends Moss running away through the woods until he comes to trenches manned by British Paratroopers. He jumps down into one occupied by a BRITISH BREN GUNNER, who's firing sporadically.

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