by Jack Murray
A few moments later, the carriage door was opened by another man. He was a little older than the boys and seemed very ill at ease.
‘Is there room here, chaps?’
‘Yes,’ chorused the carriage with the notable exception of Carruthers.
‘My name’s Harn,’ said the young man.
The rest of the journey to London was taken up with the grousing from Carruthers and his ardent desire to speak to someone in command to set them straight on the mistake from the Ministry. A look from Danny stopped any ribbing from the other boys. None gave him a bad penny for his likelihood of success. Harn said little on the journey but seemed sympathetic to the situation Carruthers found himself in. His rare contributions to the conversation revealed him to be cynical rather than a moaner like Carruthers.
-
The boys were glued to the window as the train travelled through London. Overhead they could see barrage balloons so large they seemed to block out the sun. They looked at one another grimly. The war was coming closer. They disembarked at Kings Cross station.
‘It’s big,’ commented Hugh Gissing. There was no denying the accuracy of this statement. Carruthers had been to London before and they happily followed him. He led them to the underground station, and they made their way to London Bridge. As there was half an hour before their train to Caterham departed, most took a stroll outside the station to see the city. There were sandbags all around the entrance. The street was mobbed with people, many in uniform: police, air wardens and army. Danny and Tom looked at each other.
‘Different world,’ said Tom.
Not just a different world, thought Danny. A terrifying one. The sandbags, the barrage balloons, the heavy presence of uniformed men and women was suffocating. He had never been to London before but everything he’d read spoke of a city with an extraordinary history. But now, standing on the street he saw and felt the fear of a city at war.
The train to the barracks was due to depart in ten minutes. With some relief Danny trotted back down the steps into the station. His feelings about what he had seen were mixed. The first sight of London had been disappointing. But he also wanted to come back and see the city properly; experience it. The first opportunity he could manage, he promised himself he would return.
-
Around ten hours after their departure from the village, the boys were met at Caterham train station by a man who introduced himself as Corporal Lawrence. The last part of their journey was made on a three-ton truck that took them to the army barracks. It was late afternoon. Despite being summer the sky overhead was distinctly unseasonable. At the gates they were greeted by a burly sergeant who waved them through dismissively.
The new recruits looked at one another as the truck drove into the centre of the camp. It finally came to a stop. One by one they hopped out. The corporal hopped out of the driver’s cab and quickly lined them up into three ranks of ten.
‘Follow me,’ ordered the Corporal. He seemed to know what he was about. So they followed him. Danny looked at Lawrence. He was perhaps three or four years older than him, but he was already a man. Alongside him, Danny felt that he and his friends were like little boys. This would change. Part of him welcomed this. Another part, he knew, feared the responsibility that adulthood would bring. Danny glanced down at the rolled up sleeves of the corporal. He was wearing at strange looking watch.
‘Mickey Mouse,’ said Corporal Lawrence, spying the direction of Danny’s gaze. He held the watch up for Danny and Bob to see. Their grins turned to laughter when Lawrence added, ‘It’s a reminder of the army I’ve joined.’
-
The new recruits walked towards the barracks in something that was never going to be mistaken for close order drill.
‘I thought it was supposed to be hot here,’ said Bob.
‘Why did you say that? asked Bert Gissing.
‘Because we’re nearer the equator, you big lug,’ came the reply.
The group laughed and Bob earned a not unfriendly biff around the head from Bert’s cap.
‘Not very welcoming weather,’ whispered Tom to Danny. He was clearly a little nervous as they walked into the camp. The group was directed towards a large hut accompanied by a Sergeant who looked unimpressed with the new intake.
‘I doubt the welcome will be any better inside.’
The men made their way to the Quartermaster Store. It was a large thin hut, an Ali Baba’s cave of army equipment. Behind the counter were dozens of shelves stacked with boots and army uniforms. Along the counter were army men waiting to hand out the kit.
One by one the men marched down the counter collecting first, their kit bag and then the uniform, based on the quartermaster staff’s assessment of their needs. This evaluation often caused much amusement and irritation as the results were, invariably, a combination of too-small boots and over-sized uniforms.
They also received items of equipment from mess tins to a brush. Danny looked at this particular implement in much confusion. Carruthers smiled and whispered, ‘Clothes brush.’
Danny nodded his thanks. The final item they collected acted to sharpen each man’s sense of where he was and what his new life would entail. It was a bayonet. Danny felt his heart miss a beat as he was handed the weapon. It may have been excitement, but Danny knew it was also fear. The reality of the war descended on him like a cloud. Moments later he was handed a broomstick.
‘What’s this?’ asked Danny, bemused.
‘What does it look like?’
‘A broomstick?’
‘You’re a genius, move along.’
Danny stood where he was, looking dumbly at the broomstick. Then he looked at the quartermaster.
‘No Lee Enfield?’
‘All in good time. We’re a bit low. Now move along.’
After the visit to the quartermaster, the group marched across the parade ground, fully-laden, to the brick building at the other side. All around they could see other recruits dressed in PT gear jogging in groups and doing other physical exercises. Barked orders echoed around the square.
The corporal directed them towards their barrack room. It was a long room with two dozen iron beds in two rows. The boys selected beds near one another. There were already half a dozen men in the room lying on the beds.
‘I don’t want to be near someone who snores,’ announced Bob. Half a dozen pillows were thrown at him in response, even from folk who didn’t know him.
‘What time do they serve breakfast in bed?’ asked Danny to no one in particular.
This brought a few laughs from some of the others. A few of the others came and introduced themselves and before long a group of strangers were laughing and joking as if they’d been friends for a long time. Only Carruthers and Harn were out of sorts with their new accommodation. Most of the others, like Danny and his friends, were young, all in their early twenties.
‘My God, there are no sheets,’ said a shocked Carruthers. The others laughed until they realised, he wasn’t joking. ‘I’m going to speak to the commanding officer.’
Danny turned away and rolled his eyes to the rest of the group. The other grouser added his thoughts also.
‘I agree. Complete shambles, if you ask me.’
‘No one did,’ said Arthur, a stocky Londoner, managing to speak while maintaining a cigarette sticking resolutely to his bottom lip. He was probably the oldest in the group along with Carruthers. Harn looked at him darkly but added nothing else.
‘You been here long?’ asked Danny.
‘Arrived a couple of days ago. Haven’t really done much, only just had my uniform. You arrived just in time for that. Like a bloody tent, it is.’
‘Who’s the tailor?’ laughed Danny looking at the ill-fitting costume sported by the Londoner.
‘A chap in Saville Row,’ replied Arthur, quick as a flash. ‘I can get you his address, if you like?’
‘Thanks,’ replied Danny, ‘Do you think he can do it blue? I’m not sure green works with my hair.�
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‘I’m not sure any bleedin’ colour would work with your hair. Now, take mine,’ replied Arthur, removing his cap to reveal a bald pate. The rest of the barracks collapsed laughing, including Carruthers and the exchange quickly established the pair as the jokers in the platoon. They were still laughing when there was a new arrival.
Arthur was the first to stop laughing. His face changed in a moment. Danny saw the change and looked round. The new entrant to the barracks was a sergeant. Danny immediately leapt to his feet followed by his companions.
The sergeant looked with undisguised contempt at the new intake. His hair was close-cropped. He was short but his wiry frame made him seem taller. His most prominent features were his eyes which were small and contained an air of menace. Slowly he picked his way along the centre aisle, eyes straight ahead. There was no other sound in the room aside from his footsteps on the wooden boards.
Once the sergeant reached the end of the barracks, his back to Danny, Arthur glanced at him and rolled his eyes. A quick shake of the head followed and told Danny all he needed to know. The sergeant turned around again and resumed his silent inspection. When he was back at the entrance, he spoke.
‘My name is O’Dowd. You’ll see by my stripes that I am a sergeant,’ said O’Dowd with something approaching a sneer. ‘This means it is my job to turn a bunch of duds like you into…’ The rest was left unsaid as another man entered the room. O’Dowd immediately stood up straight and barked ‘Ten shun.’
Although none of the new recruits had experienced the military, whether it was nature, or exposure to films, the recruits leapt to their feet and stood to attention. They were unsure of who had just entered but it was certainly clear that it was someone of rank.
The captain entered the Barrack room and followed the same route down the aisle of beds. He said nothing. He stopped halfway and then returned to stand beside O’Dowd.
‘New recruits, sir,’ barked O’Dowd. Danny wondered if communication in his new place of work was conducted entirely along these lines. It seemed ludicrous. Thankfully the new arrival also found it a chore.
‘Stand at ease, men.’
The new recruits took that quite literally and adopted postures that would not have been out of place in a pub at closing times. This seemed to enrage O’Dowd but amuse the captain. He turned to O’Dowd and asked, ‘Can you show them what I mean?’
O’Dowd strode forward angrily and said, ‘When you hear the order “Stand at Ease”, you stand as follows. Feet twelve inches apart and arms straight.’ He demonstrated the position and the rest of the barrack room followed suit.
Finally standing at ease in the army sense, the new captain introduced himself.
‘I’m Captain Budd. I won’t try to get names now. Get changed and then at six make your way over to the dining hall.’
Indicating Arthur, he added, ‘Perry will show you where to go. All I can say about the food is that you’ll get used to it.’
The men laughed at this and stood to attention on O’Dowd’s order as both he and the captain left the barrack room. When they had gone, Danny turned to Arthur and asked, ‘What are they like?’
‘Well you’ve seen Sergeant O’Dowd. Trust me, he doesn’t improve on acquaintance. We call him “Sod” because that’s exactly what he is. The other sergeants are all pretty tough; he’s just plain nasty, if you ask me. Captain Budd seems all right. Typical upper class mind you. Definitely not one of us.’ Danny and the others nodded, grateful to have some advance intelligence on their situation.
The uniform proved to be every bit as ill-fitting as he supposed it would be but at least the boots seemed to fit. A few of the others were already grumbling about this.
‘Don’t worry,’ advised Arthur, ‘They’ll change anything that obviously doesn’t fit. Why do you think I look so good?’
They were still laughing as they crossed the parade ground towards the dining hall. Inside they fell into a long queue for the food. With an efficiency that could almost have been military, the queue moved relatively quickly. When Danny saw what they were getting and how it was served, it explained a lot.
A white watery mound landed on Danny’s tin plate followed by something green and black that looked like it had been hauled from the bottom of a pond. The final item had the colour and texture of a turd.
‘What is it?’ asked Danny.
The man serving turned to another man and said, ‘He wants to know what it is.’
In a mock French accent, the man said, ‘Tell him it is beef-bugger-off.’
Danny nodded. It was clear they were taking the rise out of him.
‘Thanks. Where do I find the red wine?’
He walked on before the two men behind the counter could add anything else to their initial two-word riposte.
‘You do get used to it,’ said Arthur tucking in. So, Danny and the others did likewise. Only Carruthers seemed to be completely put out. After picking away at his food for a minute he stood up angrily and marched out of the dining room. The others from the barrack room saw him leave and they looked at one another.
‘Looks like he’s going to see the captain,’ said Arthur. ‘I give him three minutes.’
In fact, it was closer to five before the ashen-faced Carruthers returned to his seat. By then the mush had been nicked by some of the others. He looked at the empty plate and his face fell further.
‘Serves him right,’ whispered Arthur. ‘We’re in the army now and that’s that. Ain’t no one better than anyone else, and that includes the officers. A German bullet does the same damage to them as it does to us.’
3
Caterham Army Barracks, Surrey: January 1941
By ten in the evening, they were all in the dormitory sitting on their beds waiting for lights out. Arthur, as ever, had a cigarette stuck to his bottom lip. A few of the other recruits gathered around his and Danny’s beds.
‘We’ll be here for six weeks, boys. So no snoring.
‘What happens then?’
Arthur glanced at the clock and stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Then we’re separated off to the units we’ll join for another six weeks of training then look out Jerry. Get ready, you can set your alarm by old Sod.’
Just as he said this Sergeant O’Dowd strode into the barrack room. Arthur winked to the group raising a few smiles. All of the recruits stood to attention beside their beds. O’Dowd was carrying paper bags wrapped up in string. He walked down the aisle handing out one of these packages to each man.
‘What are these for, sir?’ asked Bob.
‘It’s sergeant, not sir. They’re for you to put your civvy clothes in and send home.’ When he’d finished, he took out a notebook and said, ‘Now, I want your names.’ The roll collection took a few minutes. When it was finished, O’Dowd left them with a warning that lights would be out in five minutes.
Tom glanced at Danny to tell him to look at their friend Bob. Danny glanced over. Bob was sitting on the bed staring at the paper and string. The Gissing brothers had also seen their friend and looked concerned.
‘What’s up, Bob?’ asked Tom.
Bob shook his head and said, ‘I can’t do this, boys. I can’t. I should be at home with Beth.’ He held the paper and string tightly, scrunching it in frustration. Tom put a hand on his shoulder. There was nothing to be said. He glanced at his brother. Danny looked on sympathetically. Bob had married. Tom was engaged to Rosie. Across the way, Bert Gissing was also doing a strong line with a young woman from a neighbouring village.
Danny realised at that moment that war was something that was fought by the whole country, not just the men at the front.
-
Training began in earnest at six-thirty the next morning. A bugle echoed across the barracks and O’Dowd burst into the room shouting at the recruits and banging his stick on the end of the beds. A few of the late risers were tumbled unceremoniously out from their beds.
To begin with, it was mainly drill parades and lectures. The new rec
ruits were treated to talks on a variety of topics from life in the army and grenade throwing to instructions on the opposite sex.
‘When will we get to train with live ones?’ asked Arthur at the end of this particular lecture. This brought a burst of laughter from the men and also from Budd before he dismissed them. The men liked Budd. He knew when to let the men have a release and when to step in with a rebuke.
Drill parades were run by the corporals and sergeants for each platoon. The square bashing and rifle drill required perfection in execution. Failure to do so was rewarded with punishment as Carruthers discovered when he had to run around the enormous parade ground holding the rifle over his head. He collapsed after a couple of laps.
With each passing day in the first week, Bob’s mood grew increasingly dark. This was not helped by his friendship with Harn. At the end of each exercise they would take themselves off for a chat and a smoke. Danny looked on with feelings of both sorrow and helplessness. The physical nature of the training was not a problem for him or Tom and the Gissing brothers. Like them, Bob was a bit larger but lacked their height for the weight to be distributed. This made things especially tough for him. O’Dowd soon picked up on Bob’s discomfort. He took particular delight in picking on the weaker members in the platoon.
Despite his initial reluctance and also his lack of physicality, Carruthers was beginning to win over the rest of the members in the group. O’Dowd’s bullying meant the others were now on his side and more likely to help him as training toughened with each day. In fact, each morning started in a routine fashion.
Bugle call at six-thirty would be greeted with groans all around, but Carruthers always took it further. He was a particularly light sleeper.
