Forever the Colours (21 page)

Maclaine's perpetual smirk dropped off his face and was replaced with one of anger. There were a few hidden smiles around the table, and even Tommy couldn't help but smile at Maurice's rebuff.

‘I say, that smile wouldn't be for me, would it,
Private
?' Maclaine looked at Tommy.

Maurice chimed in suddenly. ‘Oh, and I might also add that Evans is the 66th champion, after knocking that big Grenadier about a bit. In fact, he's extremely handy to have around, a sort of intelligent bodyguard, so to speak.'

‘I saw that,' Garratt joined. ‘That was a bloody good show, Private. Brought some respect back to the regiment and, more important, I won a couple of shillings, unlike McMath here.'

‘I am sorry for the lack of faith, Evans, but to be sure that was a big man you were up against, so it was, and I was sure you would come off worse than he.' McMath smiled apologetically at Tommy.

Tommy just smiled and nodded to the two Captains. Maclaine, on the other hand, was watching Tommy with a guarded look under the rim of his helmet.

‘Right, gentlemen, back to the business at hand,' interrupted Galbraith. ‘You are all now aware that the Brigadier General has ordered us to strike camp and make with all speed to,' and he indicated by pointing to a place on the map which was spread out on the table, ‘here…Maiwand.'

Tommy shivered.

‘The Brigadier General believes that if we can get there first and make ready, we can surprise the buggers. We can set up our guns to make best of use of them and deploy our infantry in the best possible formation as to cause havoc amongst Ayub Khan's forces. Although they will outnumber us slightly, and have, so the rumour suggests, better guns, we still have the better trained army, and they must not be allowed to reach or bypass Kandahar,
to make for Ghazni or Kabul. We are to stop them, or slow them down. Now, there are the native regiments to consider. The Jacob's Rifles
are untested, as are the Grenadiers, but they are led by experienced British officers so hopefully we shouldn't have too much of a problem.'

‘Those natives can't be trusted. They will turn and run as soon as it gets too hot,' Maclaine sniffed.

I
really
don't
like
this
twat
, thought Tommy.
He
sounds
just
like
that
arsehole
Dashwood,
but
a
hundred
times
worse.

‘Mr Maclaine, need I remind you not to burlesque the native regiments in front of the men?' He glanced at Tommy. ‘They are trained soldiers of Her Majesty, and will accord the same respect as all the regiments out here, including our galloping gunners
.
'

Maclaine was about to retort when another group of officers approached the table.

‘Ah, good evening Oliver. Blackwood, old man, I was just saying to the young Lieutenant here how lucky we are to have your boys behind us.'

‘That's gracious of you to say so.' A man of medium height stepped up to Galbraith. (
What's
with
the
gay
biker
moustaches?
Tommy thought). ‘We look forward to protecting the 66th from all those nasty tribesmen.' They smiled to each other and shook hands.

Tommy was enjoying this posh banter but his legs were starting to ache and he was bursting for a piss.

‘I was just giving the final details of Burrows's orders to the officers here. I trust you are also making ready with haste?'

‘My chaps will be ready before the sun shows its face. What time do you expect we will be on the march?'

‘Sometime around six o'clock, no later. We need to get into position as soon as possible if we are to make an easy day of it.'

My
God
, thought Tommy,
if
only
you
knew
. He remembered Galbraith now.
Yes
, he thought,
he
was
the
ranking
officer
of
the
66th
who
was
killed.
The
poor
bastard!

His legs were now starting to ache even more, probably due to that scrap with Singh, and he noticed more officers joining the group at the table. He jabbed Maurice in the ankle when no one was watching, who turned, and Tommy indicated that he needed to go and pee. Maurice nodded.

‘Private, go and keep an eye on the chaps and see that everything is moving along. Any problems, speak to Sar'nt Major Cuppage or report directly to myself, understood?'

‘Yes sir, right away sir.' Tommy pulled off a smart salute and trotted away back towards the 66th.

As he cleared around the side of a tent, he stopped, undid his trousers and had a much deserved pee.

‘Oi! Fuck off, you dirty bastard,' shouted a voice from inside the tent.

Oh
shit
, he thought, and quickly tucked himself away just as a figure scrabbled out of the tent and came at him with a swing. Tommy just about ducked and stepped away quickly.

‘All right, mate, sorry about that, but I was busting.'

The soldier stopped and stared at Tommy. ‘I know you, yer that lad who beat that fat ugly bastard t'other day. Hey Billy, come out
'
ere and see who we got pissin' up our tent.'

Another much larger man came out of the tent and stood in front of Tommy; he was about six feet, bull necked and had an enormous moustache. His other distinguishing features were his two black eyes. He stomped up to Tommy and smiled, and gave him a bear hug that knocked the breath out of him.

‘Put
'
im down, Billy, you'll kill
'
im. I said put him down.'

‘All right, Charlie, keep yer hair on.'

Tommy dropped back onto his feet, struggling for breath with his hands on his knees. After a moment or two, he looked up into the smiling faces of, he supposed, Billy and Charlie. ‘All right gents, how are ya?'

‘Eh, hear that, Billy? We're gents now. Well, pleased to be making your acquaintance an' all that. The name's Charles Croft, and this here's my associate, William Davis.'

‘Sorry about pissing on yer tent, fellas, but I had nowhere else to go.'

‘S'all right, chum. After what you did to that bastard Grenadier, well, you can piss in the tent next time, if yer want. I won fifteen shillings on ya. Now what brings you to our neck of the woods?'

‘I was told to come down here to see how things were going. Galbraith's adjutant, Lieutenant Rayner, sent me.' Tommy immediately regretted what he had said, as the two soldiers promptly adopted a guarded look.

‘Woo, hang on, don't worry about me, boys, I'm just employed as a runner for him. I'm not a grass.' He was rewarded with blank stares. ‘You know, a snitch? Backstabber? A tattle tale, then.'

‘Ah, right, I understand. So why ya doin' that fer then, how come yer not wiv the lines?'

‘It's complicated. I was told to do it for Rayner as he's not fully fit yet, and he can use me to do the stuff he can't, if you know what I mean?'

‘Not really,' replied Billy with a confused look.

‘Don't worry about our Billy, he's
'
ad is
'
ead knocked about too many times.

Tommy smiled and looked around, at the soldiers going about their business, loading carts, wrapping rifles – in socks, by the look of it – packing canvas bags with items of clothing, cups, pots and pans. He noticed that there was a subdued feel to the soldiers now; they were still taking the piss, but not to the extent they had earlier in the evening.

‘What ya call that boxing then, wiv all that kickin' and stuff?' The noise had come from the monster moustache. Billy had spoken a sentence, a whole one, and he had probably been putting it together since Tommy had arrived there.

‘Well, it's called kickboxing, strangely enough.'
My
God
, Tommy thought,
no
wonder
he
lost
that
fight.
He
has
the
IQ
of
a
plum!

‘So lads, ain't you supposed to be packing or something?'

‘Thought ya weren't no blabber mouth, then,' growled Charlie.

‘I ain't mate, but you might wanna start.'

‘Oh, aye, and why's that, then?' replied Charlie, as he pulled his waist band higher.

‘Oh, I don't know, how about Sar'nt Major Cuppage walking towards us. That good enough for ya?'

‘What! Fuckin'
'
ell, he is as well. Move ya fuckin' arse, Billy, ya daft apeth.' With that, he grabbed Billy by his braces and dragged him over to a canvas bag and started throwing things in it.

Tommy chuckled to himself as he watched the soldiers panicking, with Charlie throwing curses at Billy who was very nearly tearful. Suddenly he felt a presence behind him, a large one at that according to the shadow that had just fallen over the packing soldiers. Tommy swung round to face Cuppage, came to attention and cracked out a smart salute.

‘Hello again, Private. And what brings you out tonight? I thought you were convalescing with Galbraith's adjutant, Mr Rayner?'

‘Pleased to report, Sar'nt Major, that myself and Mr Rayner have been declared fit for duty, and I was selected to be Mr Rayners secreta—runner for the coming hostilities. I am to be his eyes and ears, Sar'nt Major.'

Cuppage stepped closer to Tommy, close enough to feel his breath on his cheek. ‘There is something different about you, Evans, something very strange, something I can't put my finger on. We have not met before, yet I find you very familiar.'

Tommy looked back into his eyes and tried not to quiver. This man had an enormous presence and he made it felt at all times. After a moment or two, he stepped back and looked over Tommy's shoulder at Billy and Charlie, who had stopped to gawp at the two men. ‘Do not cease in your packing, gentlemen. We wouldn't want to leave two outstanding soldiers like yourselves behind, now would we.'

‘No, Sar'nt Major Cuppage,' they chimed together, and continued in their hasty packing.

‘I am on my way to speak with the Lieutenant Colonel shortly. Would you care for a stroll through the camp, Private, so as to make a report for Mr Rayner with details of the readiness of the brigade to move?'

‘Thank you, Sar'nt Major.'

‘Very well, come.' He turned and strolled deeper into the 66th lines. Tommy waved goodbye to Billy and Charlie, who waved back. Well, Billy did and smiled. Charlie stuck his tongue out.

Cuppage talked as he walked and he took such big strides that Tommy had to keep a fast pace. ‘So you transferred from the Fusiliers, Mr Evans? How find you the Berkshires since your arrival?'

Tommy was gobsmacked that he remembered his name and nearly stuttered his reply. ‘Extremely professional, Sar'nt Major, and highly disciplined all round.' This was all he could think to say.

Cuppage looked sideways at Tommy with a curious frown. ‘You are well spoken for a Private, Evans. How is this? Did you attend school fully?'

‘Yes, Sar'nt Major, I did all my schooling on the Isle of Wight.' He disclosed this information, hoping the Sergeant Major hadn't been there.

‘Indeed. I was stationed at Parkhurst for a time. And how did you learn to fight? I watched you the other day, as I was with the Brigadier General's party. Your style was highly unusual, to say the least, and believe me, I have seen lots of different fighting techniques.

Tommy had to think quickly. ‘When I was a boy, Sar'nt Maj—'

‘For goodness sake, call me Mr Cuppage.'

‘Yes, Mr Cuppage. Like I was saying, when I was a boy, my father owned a small boat builders in Cowes,
and he employed a Korean man as a labourer. They and the Chinese worked all over the docks in Portsmouth and Southampton. Well, he taught me a bit of taekwondo,
which is the Korean fighting style. I learned it for years until I joined the army.'

‘The Hermit Kingdom, eh? I have not been there. Well, you do it very well.'

There was a fuss around one of the carts as they approached some of the cannons.

‘I'm telling you, we don't have room for all this ordnance, so you're just going to have to leave some of it.'

‘With all due respect, sir, I think we will probably need all of it in the coming days.'

Tommy and Cuppage stopped. The others stopped talking and came to attention, apart from one, who Tommy recognised as Chute, who Maurice had spoken to.