Angels at Mons

by Carl Leckey

  I approach Billy and Dave when we meet for the evening meal they are overjoyed to get away from all the parades and bullshit. They can’t transfer immediately until the pool Sergeant has made the official applications for their release.

  Morning arrives. I have not slept much as the excitement of getting my own vehicle occupies my waking and sleeping time. The Sergeant picks up Sam and Toot very early to take them to the train station.

  Jake is to ride with me until Sam returns with the new vehicles. I try to appear calm and authoritative as we complete the morning checks and top up with petrol and hot water.

  We are the third out this morning, leaving as the last of the horse drawn ambulances are just arriving. I make my way onto the main road leading to the frontline for the first time as the man in charge, I have to admit to myself the responsibility weighs heavy on my shoulders

  Snow is piled on either side but the use overnight by the horse drawn carts has kept the road open. I filter into a gap between supply trucks and feel my solid rubber wheels drop into the ruts that have developed by over use of the road.

  In a way these ruts make it easier to navigate the crowded highway at they act like tramlines and guide me along. My nerves are at stretching point and I silently pray there is no break down ahead or diversion to cope with.

  I wrestle with the wheel as I avoid a spilled load of artillery shells scattered over the road. The snow becomes more blinding at each turn of the wheels. Jake sits unconcerned by my side whistling tunelessly through his muffled scarf. It is about this time I begin to wonder why I have taken on such a responsibility.

  I realise the amount of energy and stress on the nerves a driver needs when navigating one of these vehicles through adverse conditions such as this morning. Toot made it look so easy when he controlled things.

  On the times I have driven with him guiding me I am aware today he has chosen the easy sections of the route with the minimum amount of problems to make the driving easier for me.

  On the right hand side of the road infantry men are advancing towards the front line, obviously fresh from training camps. Have the poor fools any idea what they are marching towards? On the left hand side dirty tired careworn soldiers stumble and stagger towards the rear.

  Jake after a long silence speaks at last.

  ‘They tell me this is the start of a big push. General Hague has been amassing troops and equipment ready for this one. With the Yanks in the war now there is no shortage of men and materials any more. Lookout Berlin, here we come.’

  With that brief statement he retreats behind his thick scarf. That is the longest speech I have ever heard Jake make, I wonder where he acquires his information? Ah. Its most probably another load of cod’s wallops anyway.

  We bounce and grind our way over frozen ground until at last we reach the head of the line. At a cross roads the movement Officer in charge of the operation gives me directions to a new pick up point they have established, this fresh site is strictly for ambulances use only no supply trucks are permitted. This is a great advantage for the ambulances and will certainly benefit the casualties. On arrival at the new site there are only three wounded ready for transportation. Thank goodness I am not called upon to carry out a selection Toot normally has to carry out. On the past runs if the casualties are able to stand the delay I would have remained at the pick up until the ambulance was fully loaded. This practice is no longer tolerated, when another ambulance appears I have orders to move off when I have a minimum three. It seems there are now more vehicles available since the USA came into the war. I spoke to one of our transport drivers last night and he told me there is so much men and equipment arriving continually, the trucks are now only allowed a specified time to unload.

  One of the stretcher bearers approaches us and reveals.

  “I think you should let someone know. We are finding lots of casualties bled to death before we can get to them lately. It is only happening in one particular area. They have all been wounded in the same place just below the waist in the area of their private parts. These are not usually fatal wounds you understand? But the poor buggers are bleeding so much we are losing lots of them.”

  I don’t know what to make of the information but I thank him and promise I will pass the message on when I reach the base.

  Thoughtfully Jake and I load the three casualties and hay boxes as the snowstorm eases I rejoin the queue of trucks on the main road heading back to the rear. Jake jumps out as I crawl along taking our mess tins and a jug to the mobile field kitchen. We are moving so slowly stopping and starting I am afraid the engine might overheat despite the cold something Toot has warned me to beware of.

  I have hardly moved a hundred yards when Jake climbs back into the cab bringing mess tins full of stew and a jug of tea.

  As the vehicles jerk to a stop for the hundredth time I gulp the food and swig the nearly cold tea, it is delicious and boosts my flagging spirits no end. This is the longest trip I have made so far simply because of the congested ruined road and inclement weather.

  To make things worse we find we have lost one of the casualties when we arrive at the station. The Doctor that examines him says he died as a result of his wounds. I can’t help believing the time I have taken to bring him to the station and the extreme cold has hurried his departure. His death devastates me and takes all the joy out of the sense of achievement I feel. Jake attempts to cheer me up when he congratulates me on having managed the trip successfully as driver.

  Despite everything the death of the casualty still haunts me. When I passed the message on the stretcher bearer gave me the doctor didn’t reply he just shrugged his shoulders and carried on treating the new arrivals.

  When we loaded him onto the ambulance the casualty cheerfully chatted to us. The poor bugger believed his wound would mean a trip home to see his wife and kids. God what an awful war this is, I recall Toot words.

  “When you think things can’t get any worse in this war, they sure as Hell will.”

  I report to the Sergeant regarding the situation on the road and the new pickup point, he gives me new orders. The Sergeant is to drive Sam’s vehicle, I am to follow on a run to a new rear base hospital taking first treated casualties for recuperation and further treatment.

  Our station is being cleared out ready to receive an increase in casualties during the big push that is due anytime. The trip will mean an overnight away from our base the Sergeant warns us to bring our gear along.

  I am about to leave when I tell him about the wounds the lads are suffering of late in a certain section of the front line.

  The Sergeant looked startled when I disclosed the information to him. He explains. “I’ve come across this before when I served in another dressing station further down the line. The Boche set their machine guns at that level on purpose to hit the lads in their wedding tackle. A German prisoner told us his officer had specifically ordered them to do this, as the Tommie’s would sooner lose their lives than their manhood. It’s done to destroy the moral of the troops. What a shitty war eh Scouse? And you volunteered to play a part in it.” As he went into his office tent he added. “You must be bloody mad.”

  Jake is excited when I reveal our orders as he has never been on a trip to the rear.

  A Pay Corp Officer arrived especially to the pool area to conduct the parade. This is a special pay parade arranged for the drivers and staff where I receive my back money. Much to my annoyance it does not include my new rate as a driver.

  The Sergeant assures me. “That will come don’t worry the Officer was shocked when he learned we had received no pay for so long.”

  I have never seen so much money since joining the Army and I feel like a millionaire. Before leaving I have a quick diversion to the YMCA shop and load up with sweets tobacco and chocolates. I do not smoke a great deal but I know tobacco is a good currency to use for dealing and negotiations, yet another tip I have learned from my mentor Toot.

  It is now possible to drive all the w
ay to the underground clearing station since the engineers built a new road.

  While we are loading the patients I meet up with Billy for a few minutes and have a chat. He is really envious he hasn’t had any leave since being based at the hospital he moans when I tell him my news

  “You’re a lucky bugger Scouse, except for that cadre training I haven’t even left the station area.”

  “Never mind Bill our Sergeant has arranged for you and Dave’s transfer so it won’t be long. I’ll try and get you as my second man and teach you to drive, how does that sound?” Bill thanks me enthusiastically and reveals. “It’s bloody awful here Scouse. I’m sick of the bullshit, guard duties, and parades. The Sergeant Major is as mad as a hatter and the Adjutant is no better. They treat the lads in the Labour Corp like so much shit. Do you know they tried to get our rifles reissued so we could drill like we did in training? The bastards are in their beds all night down in the caves away from the bombing, while we are up here working our arses off. Yet we still have to parade in the morning. I’m not kidding; it’s no joke on the station now, I wish the old Colonel and NCO’s were back, I can tell you.”

  I agree as sympathetically as I can, but I must admit my mind isn’t on Billy’s troubles. My entire thought process is engaged in thinking about the trip ahead and a night away from the shelling and bombing.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  A trip to the Chateau

  The Sergeants vehicle is loaded first I am to follow him. Six passengers each is a full complement for our type of ambulances. The patients are carefully loaded and made comfortable with masses of blankets, most of them are happy to be leaving the front area and be a step nearer to blighty.

  There is one however that is very quiet and sullen when we chat to him, Jake whispers. “This is the Officer they brought in with a bullet in his arse, just our luck having to carry the miserable bugger.”

  Signatures, the Army love them. I even have to sign for my consignment of wounded. It makes me laugh when the Sergeant tells me the Army suspects I will steal the wounded soldiers without a signature.

  But this is the Army way, everything has a form, every form has a number, on that form there has to be a signature.

  Our friend the company clerk organises the formalities and the hand over. “How’s Harry doing,” I enquire while the Sergeant’s ambulance is being loaded.

  He replies “That bugger will always be ok, he asked about Toot and you. He wanted to know how did the interview go with the Adjutant? I told him all about it. Eh! He said if a Captain Ellis catches you two, he will shoot you on sight for eating his Christmas cake and Colonel Con is alive and kicking. Ha-ha!” The clerk lowers his voice.

  “The Adjutant is really chuffed about the supposed report from a front line Officer. Silly bugger tells any one that will listen how wonderful the men have been since he took over the station.”

  I did as Toot advised me to do. I looked after the company clerk and dropped a bar of chocolate on his desk, much to his delight.

  I am finally learning the ways of the world especially the Army world.

  “I’ve filled in all the relevant details for you to save time ok?” He winks.

  “I couldn’t help noticing in your records you had your birthday a few days ago.”

  “That was a birthday to remember I can tell you.” I reply.

  The clerk continues. “Let’s see now? That would make you nineteen eh?” Shit I’ve been caught out.

  “We must remember that, mustn’t we? Particularly when we are filling in forms to be drivers it’s essential we get the date of our birth right, understand?”

  He emphasised the fact until I receive the message loud and clear. I feel the need to share my hoard of chocolate with him by dropping another bar onto his desk. He grins and pushes the form in front of me indicating where I should sign. I scroll my signature with confidence this time and we were off on the big adventure.

  The snow has completely stopped and the road is clear. I am not quite sure where we are going on the strange route he has chosen. I stick to the Sergeant’s tail like glue. He has studied his maps in detail before we set out as we are travelling on the new route to avoid the tangle of traffic.

  What a nice change it is to be motoring through countryside and villages unspoiled by the war.

  I feel good with my belly full of food my pockets full of money a bag full of goodies and a reliable vehicle taking me away from the war.

  Every couple of miles we stop to check on our charges in the rear, the lads all appear content except for the Officer with the arse wound.

  He is very uncommunicative and glowers at us when we speak to him, the man is in a black mood and there is nothing we can do to please him.

  Jake begins one of his rare conversations.

  “Know what’s up with him don’t you Scouse?”

  I manoeuvre around a difficult bend before answering. “Who do you mean?”

  He replies. “I’m talking about that miserable bastard in the back with a bullet up his arse?”

  I brake slightly on a slope and we begin to skid, I recover control and gasp. “What?”

  “The bullet they took out of his arse is one of ours. One of his lads must have popped him up the bum after all, ha ha.”

  I accelerate in a slight panic as the Sergeant’s vehicle is getting too far ahead and the light is beginning to rapidly fade.

  “How do you know that?” I ask pretending to be calm and collected as I catch the other vehicle up. God I hope we get there soon I have never driven in the dark before and the idea of doing so makes my blood run cold. “Bang!” “What the bleedin Hell was that?” Jake asks with alarm.

  I brake much too heavily and the vehicle goes into a skid, it slides along the road with the grace of a skier. We have hit black ice that formed as the sunsets.

  My skid finally ends abruptly when I bump into the rear of the Sergeant’s vehicle which has also braked.

  Voices from the rear of my ambulance shout for us to come quickly.

  Jake and I leap out of the vehicle slipping and sliding we make our way to the rear.

  Lying on the bottom stretcher is the Officer with the arse wound. But now he has another gunshot wound in his head. A service revolver lies on the floor of the ambulance close by his outstretched hand.

  The wounded soldier opposite says. “He just shot himself, I didn’t even see him do it I just heard the bang.” The other soldiers verify his story.

  The Sergeant arrives and examines the situation.

  “Bloody Hell,” he exclaims. “Where the bloody Hell did he get that revolver from.”

  Nobody knows I certainly don’t. I inform the Sergeant.

  “There is no way I could have searched an Officer or questioned him about anything in his possession. He must have had it since Sam brought him in.”

  The Sergeant replies. “Come on lads, there is nothing we can do about it now. Let’s try and get to the hospital before the night falls properly. There will certainly be enquiries lads. Just make sure you stick to your stories ok?”

  He wraps the revolver in a towel and takes it with him. I place a gas cape over the deceased head. A quick examination reveals the vehicles are not damaged by the shunt.

  Jake has to scatter sand and salt from the box Toot has conveniently attached to the front of the vehicle in order to give us traction. After a few false starts we set off on the ice bound road.

  It is not more than ten minutes driving before we arrive at our destination. I can’t believe it we are at the very same Hell hole Sandy and I spent our weekend pass.

  My heart fell then immediately rose again maybe I will get the chance to see the lovely Denise?

  We pass through the gates MPs still man them but what a difference in their attitude. They scan my paperwork and pass me through with the minimum of fuss they even exchange a pleasant word or two.

  It is really dark by this time and an MP carrying a lantern guides us to the hospital which is located i
n the Chateau.

  What a turn up, at the front door we are met by nurses and uniformed attendants, there is nothing for us to do as they handle everything.

  The Sergeant and I have to report to the Officer commanding to report the suicide. As we cross the entrance hall I remember my encounter with Denise and her sisters in the silver room under the stairs.

  We are led to a room by one of the attendants, he knocks we are invited in. Sitting behind the desk is the man I consider our Colonel. The sight of him makes me feel really good. He ignores our salutes and comes from behind the desk to greet us personally.

  Our Sergeant is taken aback by his approach no senior Officer has treated him this way during his entire Army career.

  I know the ways of the unpredictable soldier and welcome his handshake. He opens another door and calls the Staff Sergeant. I see by his smile that he is also pleased to see me when he enters the room.

  The Sergeant reports the Officers unfortunate death in the ambulance.

  He expresses his opinion that it was a clear case of suicide.

  The Colonel questions both of us about incident and informs us he will be setting up an official inquiry as soon as possible. The Colonel leaves the room to make a telephone call to our base.

  The Staff Sergeant asks questions about the casualty station. He appears most upset when I reveal the changes that have been implemented since they left. My Sergeant doesn’t take much part in the conversation except to inform them of my promotion to driver and Toots imminent promotion to Corporal.

  The Staff Sergeant is amazed that Toot has accepted the promotion he congratulates me on my promotion to driver. He thanks the Sergeant on his achievement in getting Toot to accept his new status as a NCO.

  The Colonel returns and informs us he we are not responsible for the Officer’s demise. It seems his depression has been noted by the casualty stations Doctors before he left. The Colonel is concerned that the pistol has been allowed through the casualty station without detection.