The Cadet Corporal (33 page)

Read The Cadet Corporal Online

Authors: Christopher Cummings

“Phew! That's OK. Off you go,” Sgt Grenfell replied.

Graham told Carnes and Slim to go back to HQ and the others to stop and go to bed, then he walked on along past where 1 Platoon was settling down for the night, lying in their sleeping bags under the overhanging branches. Ahead he saw the glow of a fire and smelt the wood smoke. In the flickering firelight he saw some of the officers and CSM Cleland sitting there. Swallowing with anxiety, Graham trudged wearily over the sand to make his report to Capt Conkey.

Judging by his face Capt Conkey was obviously not happy and as Graham drew closer he heard him say, “A whole platoon captured twice! How humiliating! If Sgt Yeldham had stayed with them they might have had a bit of leadership.”

“Might have,” Lt Hamilton replied doubtfully.

By then Graham had reached the edge of the circle and he noted that CUO Masters was there, busily writing. Lt Standish and CUO McAlistair were there as well. Capt Conkey opened his mouth to answer then saw Graham. “Yes Cpl Kirk, what do you want?”

“I am reporting back sir. My patrol has returned,” Graham answered.

“How did you go?” Capt Conkey asked.

A dozen perceived mistakes flashed through Graham's mind. He opted to get the worst out straight away. “I lost four of my patrol sir. They were captured.”

“I know that,” Capt Conkey replied with a scowl. “I was at the defender's HQ and they delighted in rubbing it in every time some of our cadets were captured. They are on their way back now. But did you make it to the bridge?”

“Yes sir,” Graham answered hastily, wishing to redeem himself. At that Capt Conkey's face turned to a smile. “You did? Can you prove it?”

Graham nodded. “Yes sir. Cadet Halyday said he wrote our names in felt pen on the concrete wall at the end of the bridge, just above where he buried the bomb.”

“Good! That is something at least.” Capt Conkey replied, his tone much more friendly. Then he gestured at Graham's clothes. “What happened to you? Did you fall in the river?”

“Yes sir. I slipped getting back across,” explained Graham. As he did he felt very foolish. Also his mind raced. ‘Do I mention the radio or not?' he wondered. Carnes had gone off back to HQ carrying it. He decided to wait and find out if the radio still worked or not before reporting that.

Capt Conkey grunted, then dug in his brief case and held up a printed form. “Here is a Patrol Report. Sit here and fill it in and then tell us about it.”

Graham moved over and took the form, then seated himself to one side. CUO Masters gave him a smile and nodded, then returned to writing his own report. Graham took out a pen and held the paper so that he could see what he was writing by the light of the fire. Filling out the first part of the report was easy. The headings told him quite clearly what information was required. He found there was insufficient space to describe in detail the route he had followed and even less when he had to cover comments on the enemy and on the results of clashes with them.

For a while he puzzled over how to explain why he had split his patrol but then just kept it brief. That made him give a wry smile, remembering a history lesson with Mr Conkey in which the teacher had explained how people wrote history by leaving out the bits that made them look bad. ‘He will understand,' Graham thought. All he wrote was: ‘After leaving the Bunyip I sent a party under the 2ic in a decoy role. They played a major part in the success of the raid by drawing away defenders at critical moments. Unfortunately four of this group were captured during these encounters.'

He had a few qualms about that because it suggested that Bragg had been with the decoys. ‘I hope Capt Conkey doesn't ask for details,' he thought anxiously. Then he worried over whether to mention Carnes and his odd behaviour or not. In the end he did not. ‘I will just explain that,' he thought.

However when Capt Conkey read the report and then questioned him Graham made no mention of Carnes, thinking to tell him at the right moment. Somehow this did not seem to come up and then 4 Platoon came tramping along the bed of the Canning and the moment was lost. To Graham's relief Capt Conkey said, “That will be all Cpl Kirk. You can go and get out of those wet clothes and go to bed thank you.”

Reluctantly Graham stood up. Tired as he was he really wanted to stay and hear how the other platoons had got on. He lingered, watching as the line of dark figures went tramping past. CUO Grey and Peter came into the firelight and Graham noted that both were minus one of their green epaulets.

“How did it go CUO Grey?” Capt Conkey asked.

“Not too well sir,” CUO Grey replied. “We got ambushed twice on the way there and then got held off and trapped by some sort of mobile reserve when we tried to cross the railway. A platoon arrived in trucks and surrounded us.”

“They were probably the same platoon that nearly caught us,” Graham said.

Capt Conkey and CUO Grey both looked at him. Capt Conkey frowned and said, “Thank you Cpl Kirk. You can go now.”

“Yes sir,” Graham replied. ‘Idiot!' he called himself. ‘If you had kept your mouth shut you might have learned more.' He caught Peter's eye but then shrugged and turned to walk away. As he did he heard Capt Conkey ask, “Did you reach the bridge?”

CUO Grey replied, “No sir. We got blocked down in the river bed by a platoon then taken from behind by another which had been hiding among the trees.”

That was all Graham heard. As he made his way slowly along the river bed past the remains of the sand model where 4 Platoon were now unpacking bedding he thought about what he had heard. ‘It looks like the defenders really had their act together alright. It sounds like we haven't done very well as a unit.'

That was galling to the pride and he wished he had done better. ‘We didn't even fight the enemy, just snuck in and away,' he mused. As he walked back in the darkness to where 2 Platoon was now settling down his spirits began to slump again. True Capt Conkey had said a qualified ‘good' but he had not seemed very happy.

‘And I didn't do very well,' Graham thought unhappily.

By the time he reached his pack almost everyone else had settled down and he had to find a patch of bare sand to unroll his sleeping bag on. Next he washed his face and wiped off as much of the camouflage cream as he could. In the process he winced with pain. The memory of Pigsy punching him flooded back but that gave Graham a sharp feeling of success. Ignoring the pain he kept wiping.

That done, he unlaced his boots and tugged off the boots and wet socks, then dug out a dry shirt from his pack. He didn't have a spare pair of trousers so he could only shrug and leave them on. After changing his shirt he slid into his sleeping bag and lay back, staring at the dapple of leaves and stars overhead.

For some time he lay awake brooding over the exercise and how he might have done better. Thoughts of what might happen when Capt Conkey found out about all the things he had done wrong swirled round in his head, depressing and tormenting him.

CHAPTER 33

LEADERSHIP EVALUATION

What really depressed Graham and gnawed at his self-esteem was the thought that he had been given a section of trouble makers who were the rejects of their own platoons. ‘Does that mean I am a reject too? Is that what CUO Masters thinks of me?' he worried. ‘And we were the decoys and didn't even manage to do that properly!'

The mournful dirges of the curlews fitted right into his mood of gloomy introspection. Then another thought crossed his mind. ‘And there were no girls in my patrol either. Does that mean Capt Conkey knows about Kirsty?'

And where was Kirsty? She was one of the dark forms sleeping on the sand around him but he suddenly didn't care. He was too tired and down to be interested in girls. He went back to minutely analysing every part of the patrol. The only incident that gave him any satisfaction was how he had stood up to Pigsy. That gave him a good feeling, a sort of glow of certainty deep inside. Instinctively he knew he had passed some sort of fundamental test of character and that he would never be afraid of such people again.

‘Better to take the bashing,' he told himself, gingerly pressing at his sore cheek as he did. ‘Dad was right. Physical pain only lasts for a little while but mental pain lasts a lot longer.' He knew he would have despised himself if he had backed down and now he hugged that success to himself.

There were noises and talking and then more people came tramping past in the night. By his watch Graham saw that it was nearly 0100. The new arrivals were a very disgruntled 3 Platoon. They settled down to camp but with a lot of grumbling and bickering. It was plain that they had not reached their objectives, and had been captured as well.

‘A whole platoon taken prisoner!' Graham marvelled. ‘How did that happen?' The Great Raid on the rail bridge certainly looked less like a success all the time.

Then more people came trudging into the area. Graham groaned and tried to block the noises out so he could get to sleep. That idea was banished when he identified the voices: Pigsy and Co. Bragg was with them.

“Where's my bloody pack!” snarled Pigsy.

Graham sat up, groped in his webbing for his torch then stood up with it. “Your packs are over here,” he said, shining the beam on them. “Get to bed quietly so you don't wake everyone else up.”

“Stuff everyone else!” Waters muttered.

Graham chose to ignore that. Instead he said quietly, “You blokes did a really good job as decoys. You drew their patrols and guards away at exactly the right times. Thanks for that.” He wasn't sure about that, suspecting the Hutchie Men may have done some of the work but reasoned it would do more good than harm to praise their efforts.

“Huh!” Moynihan grunted. “Did youse get to the bridge?”

“Yes we did, now go to bed. We will talk about it in the morning,” Graham replied.

By then the four ‘prisoners' had found their packs and were looking for patches of bare sand. To Graham's surprise they did as he said and were soon lying down in their sleeping bags. He switched off his torch and returned to his own bed. This time he just went off to sleep within minutes.

The murmur of voices roused Graham from a deep sleep. He returned to wakefulness in slow stages, his mind registering that it was daylight. The talking was coming from 1 Platoon area. A check of his watch showed him it was 0640. For a moment he thought his watch must be wrong until he remembered the exercise orders about check parade being at 0700. The extra hour was to compensate for the late finish of the night exercise. Thinking to get up and go to the toilet before parade he went to sit up. That dragged a groan from him as stiff muscles protested.

After that he spent a few minutes massaging his leg muscles and stretching. He pulled on socks and boots and laced them up, then walked off past the sleeping cadets and into the bushes. Having relieved himself he walked back, enjoying the cool morning air in spite of a feeling of anxiety about how things had turned out.

Back at 2 Platoon he saw that Sgt Grenfell was sitting up and lacing his boots. He gave Graham a smile and a nod which did something to restore his morale. On returning to his gear Graham noted his damp shirt hanging over a branch. He was about to move the shirt out to where the sun might catch it as it rose when the green shoulder flashes on it caught his eye. For a moment he rejected the idea that came to him as being too much of a deliberate showing off, but then he took the green slides off the wet shirt and slid them onto the one he was wearing.

Check parade followed. Graham stood and woke all the members of his section and urged them to get out of bed. To his own mild surprise he did not hesitate to walk over to nudge Pigsy with his boot.

“Get up Pikey,” he said, deliberately using a new nickname.

“Go to buggery!” Pigsy grumbled, but he still sat up and began pulling on his boots.

Moynihan scowled and grumbled until Waters did a thunderous fart. That helped ease the tension as the others teased him. Graham smiled and looked away, to find himself looking into Kirsty's eyes. That made him blush but she giggled.

With the section assembled Graham led them out across the dry river channel to where CSM Cleland was calling out. They had to splash through the shallow flow and that caused some muttering and grumbling but Graham didn't care. 4 Section was first out in 2 Platoon.

The company formed up in line along the open sandy bed of the river. It took ten minutes before all the platoons were present, 3 Platoon again being last. As they stood there Graham chatted to Stephen about the night's battles. He noted that both Stephen's and Gwen's sections had only one green epaulet.

“What happened to you lot?” Stephen asked, indicating the two green slides Graham wore. “Did you get lost and miss the battle altogether?”

“No. We made it to the bridge. Did you?” Graham replied.

“No,” Stephen conceded. “Too many guards. We had to battle all the way.”

Further conversation was ended by CSM Cleland calling them to attention and then right dressing them. After the sergeants had marked the roll and reported to him CSM Cleland told them to be packed up, ready to march, by 0900. Sgt Grenfell led 2 Platoon back to their area. Once there Graham ordered the section to roll up their bedding first. Pigsy and Co muttered about doing it but obeyed. Then Graham told the section to move slightly further away. “Sit in a circle on your packs,” he added.

“Why should we?” Waters demanded.

“Because I said so,” Graham replied firmly. “And because we are the best section in the company, even if we are only the decoys.” “What's a decoy?” Bragg asked.

“What you were last night when you got captured,” Graham replied. In the resulting laughter and explanations the Four obeyed, though with surly expressions on their faces. Breakfast began. As he sat on his pack getting his stove out, Graham saw Kirsty looking at him from nearby. For a moment he thought she might come over to sit next to him but he gave a little shake of his head. Her response was to pout, shrug, and then turn to talk to Stephen.

During breakfast stories were swapped and Graham learned that the decoys had indeed been the ones to draw away the guards at the critical moment. Halyday took centre stage, telling and retelling how he had crept over to the end of the bridge past the guards. He was even able to relate to Pigsy what questions the guards had been asking him as the section crept past.

Other stories filtered in. Two really surprised Graham. One was about the Hutchie Men. It seemed they had gone into the wrong farm and been shot at by an angry farmer who had bailed them up behind his pig sty, then held them prisoner until the police had phoned the army. The OC and another OOC from Heatley had arrived by vehicle to remove them. The Hutchie Men had been allowed to continue but had run out of time so missed the exercise altogether.

As Porno explained it, “I fair crap myself when spotlight come on and shotgun go bang! Hutchie Men not so brave when bullets real!”

The second story was about 3 Platoon. They had been surrounded and lost one slide while trying to cross the highway at the eastern end of the bridge. Then they had blundered into the defender's HQ which was well defended. After extracting themselves from that CUO Mitrovitch had left them hiding among the trees on the river bank while she and Cpl Gallagher had gone ahead to reconnoitre a route. Sgt Yeldham had been left in command but he and Cpl Crane had gone off to try to catch two defenders they could see on the skyline. While they were away a patrol from St Michaels had come along and found the platoon. The platoon had surrendered.

“Bloody sixteen captured by five!” Roger had exclaimed as he told Graham about it.

“And by St Michaels,” Stephen added.

That was worse. To have been captured by Heatley would have been bad enough, but by St Michaels! That really scorched their pride. To cap it off CUO Mitrovitch and Cpl Gallagher had been captured near the rail bridge, and Sgt Yelhdam and Cpl Crane were also captured when it turned out they were not taking on two but six! It was obvious from their body language, faces and voices, that 3 Platoon were not a happy band.

After eating, scrubbing his face clean, shaving and washing up, Graham went over to talk to Stephen and Roger about the exercise. While doing so Kirsty came and sat down next to him, placing her hand on his knee as she sat.

“Hello Graham. How are you?” she asked.

“Good,” Graham replied, but he could see that Sgt Grenfell was watching. “Kirsty, take your hand off my knee please,” he said quietly. “Why? Don't you like it?” she asked.

“I love it, but I don't want either of us to get into trouble,” he replied.

“Oh poo! Don't you love me?” Kirsty whispered.

A spurt of annoyance surged through Graham. “No. I like you. And today is the leadership evaluation exercise and I don't want to fail it. So, if you really like me, then help by not causing problems please,” he replied.

“Oh fine! If that's how you feel!” Kirsty snapped. She flashed him an angry look, then stood up and flounced away.

That gave Graham some mixed feelings. ‘Hell hath no fury eh?' he thought. He noted Gwen giving him an approving look but he didn't feel like that sort of treatment either so he also stood up and wandered off.

While he was walking around chatting Graham was stopped by CUO Masters. “What happened to your face Cpl Kirk?” he asked.

“Just a little problem during the exercise sir,” Graham replied.

For a moment the two stood facing each other and CUO Masters raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Well?”

Graham simply replied, “It was resolved at the time sir.”

There was a silence as CUO Masters waited for more information. However Graham kept silent and just gave a slight smile. CUO Masters glanced across to where 4 Section sat. For a moment he eyed Pigsy and Co, then looked back at Graham and gave a wry smile. “And you aren't going to say?”

“No sir. It is dealt with,” Graham replied.

CUO Masters nodded and walked off, looking thoughtful. That got Graham anxious and he hoped there would be no further enquiries. It also spurred him to get the section moving. “Hurry up and get that mess gear packed away. Andrews, wash your face. Waters, polish your boots. You too Cadet Moynihan. Pick up that rubbish Cadet Milson.”

He was in no mood for arguments and they did as he ordered. By 0830 the section was ready to march, their routine completed and their packs laid out in a neat row. Sgt Grenfell gave Graham a grunt of satisfaction and went on to chivvy Stephen's section, some of whom were still cooking.

By 0900 the unit was standing out on the river bed in three ranks. CSM Cleland called them to attention and then handed over to Lt Maclaren. The platoon commanders were put on parade and then Lt Maclaren stood them at ease.

“We are just waiting for Capt Conkey and Lt Hamilton to come back,” he explained. “While we wait platoon commanders can inspect their platoons for dress and hygiene.” “Oh crap!” Waters muttered.

“Keep quiet!” Graham snapped over his shoulder. As he did he noted Sgt Grenfell's mouth open. He had been about to reprimand Waters but Graham had beaten him to it. Sgt Grenfell met Graham's eye and nodded. That made Graham feel better. ‘I might be the commander of the rejects but I will go down fighting,' he told himself.

The inspection took 15 minutes and Graham was pleased to note that only Andrews and Waters were spoken to in his section while half of Stephen's section had their names taken for something. Stephen himself had neglected to shave. Gwen's section, as usual, seemed to be perfect. That got Graham worrying again. He knew that the main event on the day's program was the leadership evaluation exercise. ‘We are all being watched today,' he thought.

Once again he did the mathematics: 16 corporals with only 7 sergeants and the CSM's job available for them. ‘At least half of us must miss out,' he deduced. Thinking about all his mistakes of the previous week, and of being made commander of the reject section, caused him to become quite despondent. He became so dejected he felt like just giving up and leaving cadets. ‘What's the use? Everything I do I muck up!' he thought unhappily.

A vehicle drove down the bank behind them and a smiling Capt Conkey marched across the sand to take over the parade. After doing so he stood and looked along the line slowly before his eyes found Graham. Graham was sure he was staring straight at him and it made him very uncomfortable. Capt Conkey then looked away and said, “When I left the exercise HQ last night both Heatley and St Michaels were very full of themselves, crowing about how we had totally failed.”

He paused. Graham shared the collective shame. Then Capt Conkey went on, “But I have just confirmed that we did not fail. One of our raiding parties made it to the rail bridge and planted their bomb successfully. I have just been to the spot with the OCs of Heatley and St Michaels and confirmed this. It was really good to see their faces when I dug up the bomb and pointed to the names written in felt pen on the concrete.”

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