toffee-nosed bastard”, said Norris, rising to his feet in excitement.
“Remember Sergeant that pillbox is our battlefield and the battle is between us and Prior. I am not set to lose. Do you hear Joe?. Do you hear?. Now, have a word with Diper, the other Ryhope lad and get things on the road. You two buggers can get away with anything. Let’s get on parade".
Billy Young, lived next door to Joe, in Stewart Street, a row of decaying, cockroach-infested colliery houses. Like Joe, Diper, as he was called, was a Ryhope man who had married a Silksworth girl. When Joe told Diper what Norris had said his eyes came out like chapel hat-pegs. He reckoned the platoon commander was losing his marbles. Anyway, after some discussion, they began to formulate a plan. This was typical of their kind. Down the pit, if there is a problem, then it has to be solved. It has to be beaten, or got around, that is the way.
According to Diper, the key was Bobbie Gee. Bobbie was an overman at Ryhope, therefore, very powerful. He was also Diper’s drinking partner. By Thursday it was all arranged. Bobbie would be at the colliery’s powder magazine at 06.00 hrs on Saturday morning, when Joe came out of the pit, after his night shift. The evening before, on his way to his shift, Joe left his garden barrow hidden near the magazine. Saturday came and the barrow was loaded with 20 half pound packs of Polar Ajax explosive (the most powerful), 20 detonators with connecting wire and a bundle of cordite fuses with a 20 second delay. During the week, Diper and his mate would, each day, bring ‘on loan’, a range of drilling chisels and heavy quarter hammers. All of it was carefully secreted in Joe’s garden hut until Sunday morning when it went onto Nichol’s handcart together with three large dixies of water, and wheeled, once more, behind the platoon, as it marched, for the second time, to demolish the pillbox. Joe smiled wryly to himself as he noted that his commander was wearing two long rows of medal ribbons that morning. The boys were conspicuous by their absence.
On arrival at the ‘battlefield’ Norris left Joe in charge. The men were organized into twos and he gave each of the four pairs a drilling chisel and quarter hammer. They were set to work in the box. Joe had decided to concentrate his efforts on the two long side-walls, because, if he blew them out, the rest of the box would cave inwards. Two pairs were working on each wall. Half way-up the wall, at a height of about three feet and, and a third of the length in from each corner, a large hole was started. One man held the drill steady as his mate struck with the hammer. He then gave the chisel a quarter turn before it was struck another blow. Each cylinder of powder was a half-pound in weight, one inch in diameter and six inches long, therefore, the hole needed to be seven or eight inches deep into the concrete, to allow for the tight stemming. Radiating about two feet from the centre hole they would drill a further four holes in a circle. The work was very hard, so hard that each pair would change roles, at ten-minute intervals. Every twenty minutes a fresh pair would replace them. The drive to drill the holes was relentless. Yet, it took the platoon two hours.
As each hole was drilled Diper and Joe filled it with a half pound of powder, and stemmed the hole tight with soft clay. The detonator was connected and wired in series. Joe would fire the four centre holes as the first series, to weaken the concrete. The second, far greater explosion, of the remaining sixteen shots, would cause fatal damage to the box. Norris was there at all times constantly encouraging the men and fetching water as required. At 11.30 hrs, Joe and Diper were ready. The platoon was ordered back the two hundred yards to the road. Colonel Prior arrived on the road too. He sat upon his horse without acknowledging anyone.
Diper and Joe connected the cordite fuse, lit it and then retired about twenty-five yards. At twenty seconds there was a muffled explosion which left the box intact. However, on internal inspection, Joe saw four large holes and radiating cracks in the concrete.
“The next series will do the trick Diper”, Joe pointed out.
“We’ll connect up the fuses, light them and run like hell for twenty seconds, then, into the dilly, or else”.
Being part of the ancient parish of Burdon, a settlement in Saxon times, and recorded in the Boldon Book, the field had been cultivated to give an undulating surface, therefore, providing a greater area for food production. A depression, after twenty seconds, would be a life- saver for the two mates. On the road, at the first explosion, the colonel smirked at Norris.
Diper struck the match, and lit the bundle of fuses held by Joe. Even before they began to sparkle, both men were racing across the field, arms and adrenalin pumping, heads thrown back, screaming out in unison, “One, two, three, four, five”, until at twenty they dove sweating into a depression. Immediately after came a most almighty explosion. Pieces of concrete, some about a yard square, sailed over the two men’s heads, as they crouched down into their refuge, out of harm’s way. Diper and Joe were peppered with small pieces as they lay. The box was truly demolished.
On the road there was chaos. The terrific bang and blast had caused Prior’s horse to rear up in terror, unseated the Colonel and threw him, without ceremony, into the ditch. It then bolted at a frantic gallop along the deserted road. The Colonel’s mansion was a sorry sight. All of the windows on the front had been blown out. The pair of front doors, off their hinges, and skewed into a grotesque position. Two or three chimney pots had gone too. Colonel Prior climbed out of the ditch, covered in mud and slime. Norris and the men burst into peels of laughter. In the village, the great bang had caused people of all ages to spill out of their homes and onto the streets. As the platoon made its way back to HQ Norris and his men marched with a vigour and swagger that only a victory can endow. In the carnival atmosphere the event had created the men were cheered at every turn. The colonel was vanquished. The battle was won. Captain Norris and No. 4 Platoon were vindicated. Joe and Diper were heroes.
Even to this day, about once or twice a year, a few very old villagers recall, with great affection, that hilarious Sunday, in the glorious summer of 1945.
About the Author
George Bedell was born and bred in New Silksworth. He was educated at New Silksworth Secondary Modern School. He served an apprenticeship in decoration and signwork and having completed this apprenticeship of five years he was drafted into the Royal Army Ordnance Corps for two years National Service. After National Service, he worked as a journeyman for A. Hector Grabham. After two years, he left to take up a position as a paint technologist in Billingham while teaching part-time at Sunderland College of Art. From there, he took up a full-time lecturer’s position at South Shields Marine and Technical College in 1962. He was awarded the MBE in the Birthday Honours List of 1989 for ‘services to the handicapped’. From April 1992 to March 1996, he served as the Chairman of Sunderland Health Authority. He retired from teaching in 1996. He became a tribunal member for the Armed Services Compensation Chamber and Pensions Appeals Tribunal where he remained for twelve years.
The Battlefield: A Short Story Page 3
