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#“Gather round, men,” Sergeant Arthur Wilson said in quiet tones. “Gather round, that’s it.”The men shuffled into a rough arc facing Wilson and Captain George Mainwaring, looking bewildered as well they might. Usually at this time of an evening, they were being ordered to fall in at the Walmington-on-Sea church hall. Instead, they had been asked to meet up on a dirt crossroads between outlying fields of wheat and oats, strolling there alone or in pairs as if out taking the air – and wearing civilian clothes, too.“What’s going on?” Private Walker muttered to his neighbours, with nothing but a shaking of heads in response.“All right, men,” said Captain Mainwaring. “All right. Now, you’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here tonight
–”“You’re not wrong about that,” Walker chipped in.Mainwaring cast him a disgruntled look, but stoutly continued, “The fact of the matter is that Colonel Pritchard has entrusted us with a very important – and very secret – mission.”“Oh, I say, sir,” murmured Wilson, managing to sound both impressed and ambivalent.“Didn’t you know about this, Uncle Arthur?” asked Private Pike.“No. No, I didn’t.”“No one did,” Mainwaring confirmed. He cleared his throat as the men’s chatter threatened to swell to indiscreet levels. “That’s enough, men. Quietly, now. We have strict instructions to keep our activity concealed, even from the farmers hereabouts and the townsfolk, so let’s do this with as little talk as possible.”A silence briefly stretched, before Wilson finally prompted, “What is it we’re to do, sir?”‘Yes, yes.” Mainwaring took a breath. “As you know, the Germans flying their planes over the Channel use Walmington for navigation.”“That’s why we’re so strict about blackouts,” the elderly Private Godfrey offered.“Yes, but on the night of a full moon
–”“Oh, like tonight, sir!”“–
they can see the town well enough, no matter how careful we are.” Mainwaring cast a suppressing glare around, and the men obediently waited for more. “Tonight our task is misdirection. Instead of the bombers heading for London, we want to send them further west.”“How the deuce are we to do that?” Private Frazer spluttered in his thickest brogue.“Permission to speak, sir,” said Corporal Jones.“Yes, yes, go on.”“Lanterns, sir. We’ll have to run home on the double and fetch lanterns, sir.”“It has to be secret, Jones. No one local is to be alerted.”“Hodges would have a heart attack, with all those lights showing,” someone in the back muttered.“This is sounding better and better!” Walker scoffed. When Mainwaring turned his stare on him, Walker exclaimed, “What do they expect us to do, then? Jump up and down as the planes approach, waving our arms and pointing?”Mainwaring sighed. “Colonel Pritchard said he knew he could count on our ingenuity.”“Of course he can, sir,” Wilson murmured reassuringly. “Of course.” Though he appeared more puzzled than confident.“Other ideas, men? Sensible ones.”Another silence dragged…Before Pike finally stuttered out, “C-c-crop circles, sir.”“What, boy?”“Doomed,” Frazer intoned.“How’s a circle going to send them in another direction?” Walker demanded.“How will they even know it’s for them?”“Make it a swastika, then!”“That would just spin them around, wouldn’t it? It doesn’t point anywhere.”“It points widdershins, mayhap.”Walker was frowning in thought. “Nah… I’m pretty sure it goes clockwise.”“They do the divil’s work!”Pike managed to get a word in. “I meant a line of crop circles.”“Oh, I think Frank has solved it,” said Wilson. “A row of them, heading westwards. Perhaps a large one to start with, and getting smaller along the way.”“Arrows,” said Walker. “You want to point them somewhere, you want arrows.”“No one ever heard of crop arrows, did they?!”The argument seemed about to disintegrate into mayhem. Mainwaring cleared his throat, and Wilson pleaded, “Quietly, please. Quietly, now…”“If no one has any better ideas…?” Mainwaring waited a moment, glancing around at the blank and befuddled faces, before continuing, “Well, then, Pike. How do we form a crop circle?”They all looked about themselves, and mimed having empty pockets. No one had brought tools of any kind. Except for Wilson, who offered, “I have a compass, sir.”“I think we know which way west is, Wilson,” Mainwaring grumbled.“Of course, sir.”Pike said, “We link arms in a row, and trample the wheat.”“How does that…?”“We have Mr Godfrey at the centre and me at the outside, and we work our way around him. Maybe twice, to get all the stalks down.”“Clever boy!” Wilson declared – and he remarked to Mainwaring, “The men would form the radius of the circle, do you see?”“Yes, yes,” said Mainwaring, not wanting to admit that he’d always been confused about diameters, pies and radiuses.The others started shifting as if about to move into the field – except for Walker, who stayed put. “I still don’t see why the bombers ’ll even notice, let alone think it’s for them.”“All right, men.” Mainwaring stepped a little closer – and when he leaned in to talk confidentially, they all gathered in closer, too. “I have been informed, in the utmost secrecy, that false information has been shared with The Enemy. They have been told that Bosch sympathisers are preparing guidance for their bombers this evening…” He straightened up, briskly concluding, “And if we don’t get on with it soon, men, they’ll be here before we’re done!”There were a couple of sceptical faces, but everyone moved off willingly enough once Pike took the lead. “Walk down the tractor wheel tracks,” he was advising them. “That’s it… No, this way, Mr Jones!”Wilson was looking on proudly, and even Mainwaring was moved to remark, “Maybe there’s a future for that boy, after all!”“Maybe there is, sir. I’m glad you see it, too, sir.”In a surprisingly short space of time, three crop circles led somewhat westwards from Walmington – each roughly thirty feet in diameter, according to Wilson. Could it have been as simple as that? Mainwaring looked on doubtingly – though when he saw Wilson walking back towards him down the wheel tracks, his usually impeccable trousers dusted with foliage, Mainwaring couldn’t help but return the man’s soft smile.“I believe we’ve done it, sir.”“I believe we have, Wilson.”There seemed to be another argument breaking out, though. “I don’t see why we can’t do arrows as well,” Walker was declaring.“No one’s going to believe they’re real if they’re not just circles, are they!” Pike protested. “It’s not going to be top secret, if people don’t think they’re real!”Frazer suggested, “Maybe the divils took a wee dram of whisky and got inventive.”“Devils?” said Pike. “I thought it was cloud ships what made crop circles.”“Ah, laddy, there’s fairy tales and there’s what’s real.”Meanwhile, Walker and Jones had struck out arm-in-arm to trample down an arrowhead at the far end of the crop circles, pointing…“Oh, no, sir…” After some fumbling with the compass, Wilson blurted, “That’s pointing too far north!”Mainwaring took off as fast as he could manage, blundering through the crop with Wilson at his heels. “Stand down, men! Stand down! That’s the wrong direction!”The culprits paused, but it was already too late. The arrow had been formed – and Mainwaring could hear the grinding drone of the German bombers approaching across the Channel.“Fall in, men!” Wilson was calling. “Fall in. Two lines meeting at right angles. We’ll form an arrow ourselves.”“I knew it’d come down to jumping up and down and waving,” Walker muttered. Nonetheless he scrambled to line up with the others.“That’s it, men. Now each of you put your arm across the next fellow’s shoulders so we make a solid impression.”And they lined up with military precision just in time – the bombers were overhead, and for one long horrible moment it seemed as if they were aiming for London as usual – but then at last the lead plane’s left wing tilted down, and the squadron followed it westwards.The platoon watched them go with mouths agape, until at last Jones broke the silence. “Permission to speak, sir!”“What is it, Corporal?”Jones gathered himself in tight before crying out, “By George, we’ve done it, sir!” and leaping all of three inches in the air, stabbing one shaky fist in the air. Around him, the rest of the men engaged in a great deal of cheering and backslapping.Mainwaring wasn’t inclined to quiet them. “Well done, men. Thanks to Private Pike and Sergeant Wilson, I believe we can declare our mission accomplished.” There was a long moment of warm camaraderie as the men shared a rare sense of achievement with each other. “All right, then,” Mainwaring eventually added. “Dismissed!”But no one seemed inclined to go home, despite it being past midnight. The men wandered into the nearest crop circle, and settled on the bent stalks. Even Wilson sat himself cross-legged, and held a hand up for Mainwaring to lean on as he lowered his creaky bones beside his second-in-command.“What d’you think’s going to happen to them?” Pike asked.“Aye, where have we sent them?” Frazer intoned, inevitably implying, They’re doomed. Doomed…“I suspect,” said Mainwaring, “the plan is to engage them in an air battle, but in an ambush over open countryside rather than over London.”“I do believe you’re right, sir,” said Wilson. The two of them shared a smile.They all sat there quietly for about half an hour until at last the grinding drone sounded again from inland. The men got to their feet – Wilson surreptitiously assisting Mainwaring up while the others helped poor doddery Godfrey upright again. By then, the droning was punctuated by stutters as if an engine or two was misfiring – and then the staccato sound of guns being fired added to the ruckus.The bombers were suddenly above them – one missing – no, two missing in action! And at least one of the others wobbling along its path, with flames flickering in the wake of an engine. The Germans fled low overhead, racing for the Channel.Behind them came British planes – a number of Gloster fighters, along with a few heavier Blackburns – chasing The Enemy out to sea.The platoon cheered them on loudly, jumping up and down with lifted arms as foreshadowed. And when the last Gloster biplane flew overhead, it rocked gently from side to side and back again, tilting its wings in a gesture of respect and gratitude for the Walmington platoon.Mainwaring found that he had tears in his eyes. “All right, then,” he said, not caring very much that he sounded choked with sentiment. “Well done, men.” And then at last they all began drifting off back home through the country lanes into town to their well-earned rest for the night.Wilson’s hand accidentally brushed the back of Mainwaring’s as he turned to say goodnight before parting ways. “Well done, Captain,” Wilson murmured. “That was good work tonight.”“Thank you, Sergeant,” Mainwaring replied. “Goodnight, Arthur,” he quietly added.Though Wilson didn’t hear, of course. He had already slipped away into the moon shadows, discreetly on his way to Mrs Pike’s. In any case, Mainwaring already knew what his response would be.
Do you really think that’s wise, George…?
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