Chapter 4
2165 Words
Everywhere they got posted, things got busy. Either that or they got posted wherever it was getting busy. Some things didn’t bear thinking about. Bullecourt was a disaster. There was a rumour going around that headquarters had made some mistakes with it. That sounded a bit close to the truth. They should have waited for tanks or they should have taken out the machine-g*n posts first. Whatever the official story was, they never wanted to be in another battle like that, not ever. It was too b****y dangerous, as Bert Carter confided to Harry.
Some days, just going back down the line for a bath was terrifying. Billets were mostly fine. You had to be really unlucky to get hit there. The back area camps were the safest, unless you got leave for Paris or London, where it was so safe you couldn’t even imagine a war was on, although you could hear the guns a bit if the wind was right and you listened really hard. In London, the war was a b****y game somewhere else and it made a damn good excuse for drinking and w*****g and anything else you might fancy. Not that Harry was going to get leave any time soon. At least Eddie had got away, back to Claudelle for two days, before Captain Robertson heard about their latest exploit.
Harry was waiting by the officers’ dugout. He knew what it was about. He always knew. It just couldn’t be helped. He nodded at the chaps squeezing past him and did his best to look unconcerned. He was unconcerned; the army didn’t have much in the way of punishment that would trouble him. Docking his pay was just a short-lived inconvenience. He didn’t need leave. The worst they could do was break him back to private. He’d be happy if they did. But he was sorry Alex was upset enough to call him to account.
Robertson stuck his head out of the dugout. ‘Get yourself in here.’
‘Sir.’
Harry ducked inside and stood at attention. When the skipper looked up, he saluted, his gaze fixed on the wall. He didn’t bother saying anything.
‘Well?’
‘Sir?’
‘Listen, Fletcher, don’t you dare get smart with me. What do you think you were doing?’
‘Sir. I’m sorry, sir, really, but I couldn’t help it.’
‘Don’t talk such utter drivel. If I tell you off for reserve, you jolly well go in reserve.’
‘Sir.’
‘Is that all you’ve got to say? Not even “YES SIR”?’
Harry let out a breath. He looked Alex in the eye and then quickly away. He stayed as formal as he could. ‘I thought you knew, sir. I promised to stay with my brother, in reserve or out of it.’
‘You said Flanagan’s your foster brother.’
‘That’s right. My brother all the same. Sir.’
‘You’re supposed to be smart, Fletcher. Clever. How clever is it, then, if you both get killed? Will your mother think it’s clever? It’s exactly what we’re trying to avoid. We’re trying to separate all brothers in this reserve business. You should be grateful one of you is always safe.’
Deliberately expressionless, his voice flat, Harry answered, ‘Yes, sir. I know, sir. But we don’t like it, sir.’
‘Nobody likes it, Harry. Everybody does it. It’s called following orders.’ Alex sighed. ‘Something you might try someday.’
likesdoesHarry heard the use of his first name with a relief. He unbent a little. ‘I am sorry, skip. It’s different for us.’
Alex rubbed a hand across his brow. He looked impossibly tired, now that Harry regarded him closely. It had been a bad time for them all.
‘How,’ he said slowly, ‘is it different? Do you think we enjoy separating brothers? Do you think command hasn’t considered all this, that we aren’t just trying to do what we know to be the Right Thing?’ He enunciated the words as if they were part of a religious text, all solemn and distinct. ‘We have to leave a core of good men behind, in case of a wipe-out. We’d like to keep all our best men active all the time, but that wouldn’t be much of a plan for the future, would it? When I want you out, you stay out. Hell, Harry, I shouldn’t have to explain all this to you. You know damn well what it’s about. I should send you for b****y court-martial.’
Harry cleared his throat. Alex must be even more upset than he looked. It wasn’t often you heard him swear, however mildly. ‘Sir. Yes, sir. That’s what I thought, sir. I knew if I took Eddie out of the line, we’d both be court-martialled. I didn’t think anyone’d charge me for going into it. Sir.’
Robertson stared. Then a c***k of laughter escaped him. ‘You cheeky sod!’ Harry grinned. The skipper grew serious again. ‘No, really, Harry, it won’t do. You can’t change orders to suit yourself. It’s mutiny! What am I supposed to tell Major Moran?’
Harry stood easier. ‘I am sorry, skip, I swear. But it really is different for us. You see, my mum’s not Eddie’s mum. He’s only got me. If we both get knocked, then we both get knocked. We just need to be together, in action or in reserve. We’re not trying to shirk anything.’
‘I know that. I know. More fool you. Look, leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do. I can probably swing it. Having different surnames helps.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Well, we’ll see. Listen, Harry, it probably means losing your stripe. That’s the least battalion would expect. I can’t ignore it, and you can be sure Moran won’t.’
Harry shrugged. ‘I know.’
‘Harry!’
Harry turned back. Alex grabbed him by the arm. ‘You’re better than this, you know. You don’t have to do these things. It’s a waste. Kelly put your name up for a mention, you realise, but you were listed as in reserve, so we couldn’t put it forward.’
Harry shook off this surprising news with a shrug, but he didn’t have anything to say in excuse.
Alex took his hand away. ‘You don’t have anything to prove, you know, in the line. Except that you can follow orders and stay in reserve when you’re placed there! You should be working your promotion up, not sliding back all the time. We need fellows like you up the ranks.’
Harry narrowed his eyes. ‘Alex,’ he said. ‘I just do what I have to do. I can’t help what the b****y army thinks of it.’
Alex stepped back from him. ‘Not good enough, Harry. You can’t just mind yourself and Flanagan. What about the rest of us? We are the b****y army, you fool.’
areHarry blinked. He hadn’t heard that particular tone from Alex before. He wasn’t sure how to answer. ‘I didn’t mean—Alex, I didn’t think—I mean, I didn’t mean it how it sounded. Of course I care what happens to the rest of you. The rest of us.’
Alex grunted. ‘You told me a minute ago you’re not trying to shirk anything. If that’s true, you should be chasing promotion.’
‘I’m not a shirker!’ Harry retorted. ‘I’ve never shirked anything in my life. Not wanting stripes isn’t the same.’
‘Isn’t it?’ asked Alex. ‘If that’s what you think, there’s no point talking to you.’ He turned away. ‘Go on, get back to your post. I’ll let you know what comes of my report. Major Moran will probably want to speak to you too. I’ll let you know.’ He rubbed his forehead again and looked up to see Harry still standing in the doorway. ‘You can go, Harry. Dismissed.’
Harry saluted him and turned away somewhat stiffly. The scowl on his face deflected questions from the rest of the platoon. It took him hours to realise he was more angry with himself than with Alex or the b****y army.
Later that week, when Eddie commiserated him on the loss of his stripe, he growled a short answer. ‘Won’t be for long. I’m getting it back, you’ll see.’
9 June 1917
9 June 1917It has been bad, just in time to start a new diary it won’t look very cheerful. The mines and the shelling is like the end of the world. The worst we have seen, and we have seen some bad ones. Harry and me are fine but it makes you cry. There are so many dead you can’t help but walk on them. We have lost half our section. We are going back to reserve.
Harry is asleep waiting our turn. It takes hours to pull out. There are wounded all around on their way back too. I hate this time after fighting.
28 June 1917
28 June 1917Now we are 25 years old and don’t we wish we were home for the birthday. Everyone sent good wishes and we got some fine presents, lemon curd and cake and boiled lollies, a tin of meat paste and some socks. Our captain who is a friend of Harry’s shouted us a bottle each from the officers mess, we shared it out with our mates and all the food, skipper gave us some fancy biscuits too from Harrods.
Everyone here shares things because you can’t keep it anyway and the rats will only get it. We had ten days of rest but just now we are in the line again. It is a quiet sector but the rats are bad. Claudelle sent me a card too. No leave for anyone just now.
I caught Harry kissing a photo that Nora sent him and he went red. It’s good to have a laugh at him.
24 September 1917
24 September 1917We had some more heavy fighting. Nobody ever thought it would last this long. It keeps going and I feel it is enough. Wish there was someone else to come and help, but we don’t reckon much to the new blokes. We had some trouble with two new chums here, they went missing out of the line and the jacks found them in town so they are in the clink now. Much good they’ll do anyone.
A bunch of us got caught out in the open. It was raining and there was nothing alive except men crawling around in mud, you cover yourself in mud so you can’t be seen. It took ten hours to get in but we lost three. It’s hard to stay still. Moran came to get us himself. We are praying he doesn’t get hit, it’s not his job to find us. Robertson is the same. He was with us.
29 September 1917
29 September 1917I suppose you will be reading all about our exploits and thank God you can’t see all the mess. I’ve seen plenty of blood and chopped up corpses but this is different. It doesn’t worry Harry much. He is good at hand to hand, he doesn’t like shelling but he keeps us all together.
I reckon he’ll make corp again soon.
The AIF has been doing more than its share, all the boys reckon and we are getting tired. We want to get this job finished so we have to keep going as long as it takes.
1 October 1917
1 October 1917We are back in the wipers area, it looks like nothing on earth. I am lucky I had two days with Cl and S in August so I keep thinking about that time. Now we are on the move again.
I asked H to come with me again but he went to Paris instead. I didn’t tell him everything.
Cl wants to marry me. I need to find out how to take her home, and little S. She says I should stay and I can be a butcher here. That makes sense but I never thought of staying away before and by jingo Harry will go home like a shot. I don’t know what to do.
There’s another big build up but that happens all the time.
9 October 1917
9 October 1917Here we are, waiting to go ahead. Daylight now, but wet. The sky is yellow.
Stuck in a ditch, MG on right. Safe but stuck.
Skipper says barrage needs to move.
Harry volunteered to take a message.
Nearly 10:00. We have to go soon. Harry’s not back. Skipper wants to wait.
11:20. Our guns doing the trick, so message got through. H not here yet.
Skip says any minute now. Can’t wait for him.
Hate going in without him. Hope he didn’t get knocked coming back.
Nearly midday. H not back.
Going now. Where the f**k is he? Now.
- Writer
