Bold, Brash and Brave

by Alan Tansley

  He pushed his half-eaten meal away, now very worried. George stood up and was about to leave when the orderly returned. ‘Not hungry sir?’ he asked, while he began to clear away.

  ‘Bloody starving, but not hungry for war,’ snapped George, and walked out.

  After their meal, some of the platoon had ventured out on deck and were having a crafty smoke. They were now anchored one mile out from the shore, and supposedly in total blackout. Henry stared at the flashing lights on the horizon; he could hear the rumbling of cannon-fire in the distance. Staring at the coastline, which was occasionally silhouetted by cannon fire and constant bomb explosions, his heart began to sink. They were almost at the war front, and he knew full well that there was no going back. Turning to Taffy, he asked, ‘Any last requests, mate, before we join that lot in the morning?’

  ‘Yes. How far is it to swim back home?’ he replied, and then heartily laughed.

  Chapter 15

  In February 1916, the weather was bitterly cold, with not much to do on the farm other than tend to the animals. The women from the village only braved the elements to call once a week. They still had their chores to do, and were paid accordingly, but nearly all arrived early, just to visit Florence and her baby before doing their work.

  Without informing anyone living off the land, the politicians in London began to assess their country’s growing capabilities, without consulting any farmers. For the first time ever, the newly appointed war cabinet granted limited subsidies to farmers for improving their production by intensifying their crops.

  When his land had been inspected by a newly appointed local area agricultural inspector, Joseph was informed that if he grew more wheat and root crops, then he would receive such a grant. When Joseph questioned his judgement, and was told the amount he would receive, he didn’t believe the inspector, and moaned, ‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’

  As he had been taught by his parents, Joseph always kept day-to-day records of his work on the land, and strictly used crop rotation. One night he was studying his diary particularly carefully because there was now a next generation to think about, he realised that winters were finishing earlier and the summers were lasting longer. He rested back in his chair, moaning, ‘I wonder if anyone else has ever noticed that?’

  He remembered that his dad used to say that ‘the more you feed your land, the more it will feed you.’ Joseph decided that Sunday morning would be a good time to revise procedures. Suddenly, he smiled when he heard the baby cry, and when it grew quiet again, he knew that Florence was feeding his granddaughter. Leaning forward, Joseph stuck a splinter in the fire, saying to himself, ‘Yes, the future of this country is in the hands our babies. But according to the death toll in the papers, half the buggers will be raised without a dad.’ Then he grimaced, knowing one of them was Georgina.

  Chapter 16

  At five-thirty on the following morning, being the second Monday in May, the men were all on the deck of the Rusty Bucket, as Taffy had named the ship. When the Captain had their attention, he shouted ‘Right, lads, the tide is now turning. In about thirty minutes, when we receive a signal, we’ll raise anchor. We have to go slowly, and when we get a bit nearer the shore, rowing boats will arrive alongside, then take you inland.’

  There was a load of grumbling, then suddenly it went quiet when his second-in-command took over. Standing forward, and shouting to be heard, he bellowed ‘For this ship, it is a tricky manoeuvre. So, please, all pay attention and stick rigidly to orders. Best of luck to you all, and when this war is over, I will buy you all a pint.’

  ‘We’ll keep you to that,’ shouted Taffy, smiling.

  When the engine began to thump a steady beat, George shouted, ‘Right men, gather round.’ When his platoon encircled him, he stared at Henry as he said, ‘Our boat has a red circle on the side. When it pulls alongside, slide down the ropes into it. For God’s sake, hang onto your rifle—you will need it, and try to keep your knapsack dry.’

  Frowning at him, Edward moaned, ‘We haven’t much ammunition.’

  ‘You will receive sufficient rounds when we are on the shore, and more rations as well. Any more questions?’ asked George, and looked around at them.

  ‘I have!’ Taffy squinted through the sun in his eyes, and asked, ‘How did you get to know all about this?’

  ‘I was informed by the Captain last night while you lot were snoring. Right then, when we get to the beach, we will be met by a signal man wearing a red armband. He will take over from me, so follow his orders,’ replied George, and again looked straight at Henry.

  Henry feared the worst, and staring into his eyes asked, ‘Are you coming with us?’

  ‘Yes, but later on, just to keep an eye on you lot,’ replied George, and smiled.

  ‘They are on the way now,’ shouted Taffy, who was now looking very enthusiastic.

  Hearing rumbles in the distance, and seeing plumes of smoke drifting into an overcast sky, George scanned the beach, and wished he had a telescope.

  ‘Right, men, prepare to disembark,’ shouted the Captain.

  Mick grinned, ‘He’s off with those bloody big words again.’

  Although the sea was calm, there was a slight swell with the tide, and most jumped on board when the boat rose up towards the deck. ‘Cast off!’ shouted the helmsman.

  ‘Bloody hell, I’ve only heard mum say that when she was knitting,’ said Henry, and laughed nervously.

  George smiled, but knew Henry was nervous when he heard him swear. He was himself thinking that the boat was overcrowded, but there were four oarsmen rowing in time, and on the sea was nearly calm, so he decided not to show his nerves or inexperience. This was only the second time George had seen the sea, let alone been in a boat, but he didn’t know it was the same for them all.

  George gazed back at the ship and decided that it was poorly maintained. He glanced at Henry and noticed him trembling. ‘The poor bugger’s frightened, but aren’t we all,’ he thought. Suddenly, the boat caught a wave and picked up speed.

  Fifty yards short of the beach, their boat ran aground and lurched to a stop. The helmsman stood up, jumped overboard, and holding the front of the boat, he shouted, ‘Right, chaps, this is the end of the line. You will have to swim from here.’

  Taffy noticed gravel in between the waves, and knew it wasn’t deep. He heard moans and groans from some of the others who thought it was, so he jumped out and stood at the side of the boat, laughingly shouting, ‘Come on in, bloody hell, you all sound like women.’

  Holding their rifles in the air, theolding their riflrs in the airK rest of the men jumped out on either side of the boat and held onto the side. ‘Keep your rifle dry, and on my order, begin to wade towards the beach,’ shouted George, and saw that everyone was doing as they were told, continuing, ‘So try and keep together.’

  When a wave caught them, easing their progress, Taffy shouted ‘Bloody hellfire, that felt nice,’ and laughed.

  Staring straight ahead, but looking very uneasy, Mick began to mumble, ‘Stupid bloody Welshman.’

  George watched his men progress towards the shore, jumped in and began to follow them. He kept one eye on the distant plumes of black smoke that seemed to be drifting inland, but suddenly his face changed when he heard, then felt, a thunderous explosion. Staring at one horrendously sized cloud of smoke he moaned, ‘Christ above!’ Then he heard cursing from his men, and noticed they had stopped, so to keep their momentum, he yelled, ‘Come on, keep moving else we’ll all end up with pneumonia.’

  ‘At least we’ll be alive. No one could have survived that fucking bomb,’ shouted Billy, and nodded to Taffy as if he was right.

  Suddenly, everyone went quiet while they approached the beach. ‘Right, men, group together then all kneel on the sand,’ said George. When they did, he glanced around and in their faces saw fright. Henry looked really frightened, and to gee him up a little, he asked, ‘All right, our kid?’

  Henry never answered, and knowing why, G
eorge purposely glanced around the beach to wait for the other platoons to regroup. When they all did, he waited for the Lieutenant-in-Command, then all listened to his instructions while he detailed his men in turn.

  They understood his orders, and with George leading the way, in single file, they set off inland. Everyone was astonished to see large holes everywhere, and carefully made their way around them. Thirty minutes later, they approached a tented arrival point. When his name was called, George approached a Second Lieutenant to receive his orders. His platoon was to follow the main road for about a mile inland. There they would be met by a First Lieutenant and billeted in an old farmhouse for the night, during which they would receive food and instructions for the following morning.

  Suddenly, noise from the shelling erupted, and while the men carried out their instructions, it became an audible annoying nuisance. As ordered, they set off in a single file on both sides of the road. Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at a derelict farmhouse. They checked the premises over and then tried to settle down on a pile of straw. Taffy sighed, then moaned, ‘Bloody hell, am I starving.’

  ‘And me, mate,’ added Mick. ‘But I must say this, the waiter service has been atrocious since we left the boat.’ He heartily laughed as he flopped down at his side.

  ‘Come on, pack it in, lads. Henry, go up those stairs and find a window to keep a look out,’ said George, and then turned to Mick, pointing to another window, and ordered him to stand guard there.

  As Mick scuttled into the room, the Lieutenant entered the building by the front door, and looking around, asked, ‘Who’s in command here?’

  ‘I am, sir,’ replied George, and stood to attention.

  The Lieutenant quickly glanced around again, and said, smiling, ‘I see you have detailed surveillance already—well done, Corporal. Yes, very good, so I will detail your orders with your supplies when I get back to HQ. I’ll see you at first light, so until then, you can all relax.’ He nodded at George, approving his endeavours, and then marched out.

  Billy crouched down under a window overlooking the garden, moaning, ‘When do we eat?’

  ‘More to the point, where can we have a shit? I’ve one brewing,’ complained Mick, looking uncomfortable as he sat.

  ‘Under that laurel bush at the back of the house—it’s the only living thing with leaves to give you cover. Now, for God’s sake, will you all give it a rest?’ snapped George. After he had toured the farmhouse, he set off upstairs. At the top, looking around, he asked, ‘Where are you, our kid?’

  ‘In here,’ shouted Henry, who was lying on his belly, scanning the horizon through a hole in the brickwork.

  George entered the room, looked up, and noticed half the roof missing. Observing that Henry was lying on rotting floorboards, he moaned, ‘Keep your head down, Henry, for God’s sake, you’re a sitting duck there.’

  ‘I’ve been watching the fighting over there, and it doesn’t look rosy for our troops. See that little hillock in the distance?’ asked Henry and pointed. ‘Well, the enemy is dug in on the top of it and trouncing anyone who approaches.’

  ‘I think we might be replacing the platoon that’s been trying to overrun that position. Poor buggers have taken a beating though,’ replied George. He squinted to try to see better, but quickly gave it up when heard his name called, and shouted ‘Be right there!’ He patted Henry on the shoulder before he set off.

  When it was grub up, everyone quickly settled down for a hearty evening meal of what was said to be mutton stew, although Edward said it tasted more like horsemeat. He soon went quiet when questioned about how he knew the taste. Everyone went quiet when they heard George posting guards for the night.

  ‘You’re a bigger liar than Tommy Pepper,’ moaned Henry, and grinned before resting his head back.

  ‘I have been known to spin a few,’ Edward replied, smirking.

  The men settled down for the night. ‘I thought it was always supposed to rain in Belgium,’ moaned Taffy, and trying not to laugh, did a loud fart.

  ‘You dirty Welsh git,’ shouted Mick, and stood up and went over to the window. Kneeling down, he gazed at the occasional lights flashing on the horizon, and his uncertainty grew as he heard the heavy rumble of cannon fire, giving him butterflies in his stomach. He was regretting joining up, and using the army to get out of his local town of Stamford—which he had to do in a hurry. Before, he lived and married there; Mick was already married, and had a wife and three children living near Luton. He left on the pretence of finding work, and travelled north on foot. A few weeks later, while in a tavern, he met another woman. Their friendship blossomed, so over the next few weeks he conveniently moved in with her, and later, bigamously, they married. Problems began when she fell pregnant and the local doctor was called. He wanted paying, and Mick obliged, but knowing that the consequence of being found out as a bigamist was certain jail, he again gave him a false name.

  When Mick signed up to join the army, he gave yet another false name. When the recruiting Sergeant questioned his accent, Mick informed him that it was because his parents had moved north fifteen years ago. RO Nicholson never doubted him, because all he was interested in was recruiting as many men as possible.

  Taffy was also in a secret predicament, but his was debt. He had joined up more to escape than try to alleviate his problem. He knew that the landlord would use his wife’s services against his debts, so he wouldn’t throw them out when he wasn’t there, and thinking the war would be over in less than a year, Taffy thought to use the money earned in the army to better his lot.

  George sat in a corner of the room dreaming of home, but had his rifle across his knees, cocked ready for action. He was daydreaming of Florence and what should have been as usual; to make the time pass more quickly, he continued to plan their future. He glanced at Billy, who snored out loud, looking silly as he rested awkwardly against a door post, and turned to Henry, seeing that his eyes were closed.

  Beginning to drowse himself, George heard repeated gunshots, which woke him up sharpish. Quickly glancing around, he decided to check his men and used his rifle to stand upright. After stretching, and thinking it warm for the time of year, he noted each man in turn, being careful where he trod in the darkness. Occasionally hearing muffled noises outside, he peered out through the open doorway, and in a faint moonlit mist, he saw two soldiers struggling to pull a hand-cart, its contents covered with canvas.

  He went upstairs to Henry, and seeing him lying on his belly but asleep, George smiled as he crouched down and sat beside him. He began to nod off again, but sporadic gunshots woke them both up. Coming to his senses, Henry stared at George, and asked ‘What are you doing up here?’

  ‘Keeping an eye on you,’ he replied, leaning forward to lie at his side. They stared at the horizon and saw occasional flashes before hearing a bang. ‘Every time that happens, I wonder if anyone dies,’ said George, and sighed.

  Henry quickly turned, and staring at him, gasped, ‘I bloody hope not.’

  Just after sunrise, as everyone was coming to their senses, two pack horses accompanied by two soldiers delivered food and munitions in boxes. After checking the delivery, the Lieutenant was in quiet discussion with George, and gave him a piece of paper before he slapped him on the shoulder.

  After reading it, George clutched the piece of paper and stared out of the window. He watched the horses, with the Lieutenant ambling behind them while they continued down the lane towards the main camp. He was still watching them when the orders began to make him angry. ‘Here you are, mate,’ said Henry, passing him what looked like a homemade meat pie.

  ‘It’s a shame they don’t taste as good as they look,’ complained Taffy, but still tucked in.

  George noticed, and to change his mood, said, ‘Whoever it was that said we were taking that hill up the road, was right.’ He then spun around and shouted, ‘Right, men, hurry up with your grub, then we can get organised.’

  ‘Oh, give us a chance, George, this is the bes
t horsemeat we’ve had yet,’ shouted Edward, and they all laughed heartily.

  Chapter 17

  One hour later, lined up outside the rear of the house with their backpacks on, arms full, and each very much looking like a pack horse, the platoon all stared at George. Edward sarcastically moaned, ‘Christ above, are you sure we can’t we carry anything else?’

  ‘Stop your bleating. Right, and now listen,’ shouted George, and clapped his hands to get their attention. When they settled, he explained, ‘The platoon we are going to relieve has kept the enemy trapped on that hillock for three weeks.’ Seeing them look above him, George had to smile. ‘Now it is our turn to do the same. In single file you will follow me, and it is imperative that you keep your heads low. Once in position, behind the men you are relieving, the present platoon will retreat for a well-earned break, and then we will take over.’

  Taffy hadn’t heard him properly, and squinting, asked, ‘How long have they been up there?’ When Edward farted loudly, he moaned, ‘You dirty bugger.’

  ‘You’ve some need to talk; you were farting all night long. Now then, where were we?’ asked Edward, and looking straight at Henry, he winked.

  George shouted, ‘Right men, in single file, follow me,’ and when they were ready, he turned and set off.

  They were sauntering more than regimental marching. Twenty minutes later, ‘Fucking hell, them shells are getting nearer,’ moaned Mick, and leant forward to keep his head low as possible.

  ‘Will you shut up moaning, this lot weighs a sodding ton,’ moaned Walter. Henry could tell he was struggling and offered him help. ‘It’s alright, kid, I just like a good moan now and again,’ was the reply with a grin.

  As they approached an open ditch behind a small copse of trees, a voice shouted ‘Halt! ‘Halt.’