Fighting with French: A Tale of the New Army

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XI

  THE DISAPPEARANCE OF GINGER

  It was when the battalion next returned to billets that the meaning ofGinger's confabulations with the men of other platoons came out.

  One evening after supper Kenneth and Harry were smoking in the Bonnards'kitchen. They were alone. Ginger and the other members of their billethad left them some little while before, and the men's faces had worn thesly, conscious look of those who are meditating a secret design.

  "If I didn't know Ginger, I should think they were up to some mischief,"Harry had said.

  Presently the door opened, and Ginger reappeared, at the head of eightor ten men from other platoons of No. 3 Company. They all looked alittle sheepish and uncomfortable as they filed into the room. Somehung back and were pushed forward by their mates. Ginger moved to therear, and was instantly seized by several hands and expostulated with infierce whispers.

  "Keep your wool on; I'm only going to shut the door," said Ginger.

  "What's in the wind, you fellows?" said Kenneth. "Why are you hangingabout the door? Come round the fire and light up: we'll have a smokingconcert or something."

  There were mutterings among the group. Some words reached the ears ofthe two men at the fire-place.

  "It's your job: you're a sergeant."

  "No fear; you don't catch me..."

  "Ginger's the man..."

  "Spouts like a M.P...."

  At last Ginger was pushed through to the front. He grinned, half turnedto protest, was swung round again; then he drew his hand across hismouth.

  "Mr. Harry, and Mr. Amory," he began.

  "Oh, come now, no misters here," Harry broke in.

  "Not in the ordinary way, of course," said Ginger, "but this ain't anordinary occasion. The fact is, we're a deputation, that's what we are;a deputation from No. 3 Company, and the other chaps have made meforeman of the jury. Not as I want to push myself; not me. I considerit's a job for a three-stripe man; but Sergeant Colpus here is a verybashful and retiring man, though you'd never think it to look at him."

  "Dry up!" growled the sergeant, turning fiery red as the other mensniggered.

  "Well, you _would_ put it on to me," Ginger went on, "and I must do itmy own way, always respecting my superior officer, of course. Beingforeman of the jury, I speak for 'em all, got to give the verdict, asyou may say. The fact of it is, we men of No. 3 Company, what you maycall the Randall Company, ain't easy in our minds at the idea of beingdogs in the manger like. We know as the colonel wants to make youofficers, and we think it ain't fair to you or the army to keep you inthe ranks 'cause of us. A promise is all right, and we take it verykind that you've stuck to your guns, in a manner of putting it, allthese months. Speaking for myself, I didn't expect nothing else. Butwe think it 'ud be a dirty shame if we held you to your promise now,specially when every man of us knows you ought to be officers, andthere's not a man of us but would be proud to follow your lead anywhere.And so we've come to say that the promise is off, and we don't stand inthe way of your getting your rights."

  There was a chorus of approval as Ginger wiped his mouth again andstepped back among his comrades.

  "It's very good of you, Ginger," said Harry, "but I'm sure neither Amorynor myself want to leave the ranks."

  "Not at all," said Kenneth: "thanks all the same."

  "But it ain't right," said Ginger, coming forward again. "We've learnta thing or two since we started being soldiers, and we've lost a lot ofthe bally nonsense that used to fill our heads, about all men beingequal and such like. Mind you, I'm a Socialist, as strong as ever Iwas. I say now, as I've said afore, that there's no call for a man tostick himself up and think himself mighty superior 'cos he's got a quidfor every penny I've got. And I don't say but what, if we'd had youreddication and chances and all that, we wouldn't be as good as you. Butthat ain't the point. We've got to look at things as they are, and behonest about it, and what I say is that you've had the training thatmakes officers and we haven't; and besides, you were born one way and wewere born another, and it's no good trying to make out that chalk's asgood as cheese. And there's another thing. When we've got a tough jobafore us like licking the Germans we're bound to consider what's bestfor the company and the regiment, and if a man is cut out for an officerit's simply silly to keep him a private: he ain't in his right place,doing his right job. So we think it's only right for us and the armythat you should do what the colonel wants, and that's the size of it."

  "Is that what you all think?" asked Kenneth.

  "Well, I can't say that; all but one or two, and they're a disgrace tothe company. There's----"

  "I don't want to know who they are," said Kenneth, interrupting. "We'reboth immensely obliged to you for your good-will, but we enlisted oncertain terms, and I feel for my part that we can't break our contractwithout the unanimous consent of the company."

  "I agree," said Harry. "The men enlisted on the faith of our promise,and it wouldn't be fair to break it without the consent of all. Sowe'll drop it, Ginger, and go on as before."

  "It's for you to say, sir," said Ginger. "There! 'Sir,' says I. A slipof the tongue, mates; you can't get out of bad habits all of a sudden.Well, I'll say for No. 3 Company that we'd be sorry to lose such goodpals, and as there's no chance that St---- that the pigheaded members ofthe jury will come round to the opinion of the sensible ones, we mayreckon it as certain that the defendants will be condemned to serve asTommies for three years or the duration of the war."

  "And now we'll discharge the jury," said Kenneth, "and have a sing-songuntil 'lights out.' Come on, Ginger; start off with 'Dolly Grey.'"

  Next afternoon Kenneth was summoned to the captain.

  "I've a little job for you, Amory. You know how to drive a motor; doyou know anything about the mechanism?"

  "Not much; but Ginger--that is, Murgatroyd, sir--is a bit of a mechanic.Of course I'll have a shot at whatever is required."

  "Add Randall, and we have the Three Musketeers complete. You didn'tknow that's our name for you, I suppose? Well, it's this. A motorcyclist came in just now with a despatch for the colonel, and reportedthat on the way he had passed a man who'd had an accident of some sortwith a motor lorry, and wanted help. Just go and see what you can do,the three of you. I don't know whether the load is for us; if it is, somuch the better. Take my map; the breakdown is thereabouts"--he pointedto a spot some three miles away--"and be as quick as you can."

  The three men set out, Ginger carrying a bag of tools he had borrowedfrom the village smith. The place where the accident had happened wasapparently on a by-road about halfway between the village and theheadquarters of the next regiment on the left of the Rutlands. Theyfollowed footpaths across the fields, some of which had been sown by theinhabitants. The air was very misty, and but for the map they couldhardly have found their way. But presently they caught sight of a manin khaki sitting on the grass at the corner of the main road andby-road. The man bore the badge of the Army Service Corps on hissleeve.

  "What's wrong?" asked Kenneth, going up to him.

  "Are you the Wessex?" said the man.

  "No, the Rutlands. You've had a spill by the look of you."

  "You're right," said the driver with an oath. "And I owe that thereparson one. It's his fault. Did that cyclist send you along?"

  "No, but the capting did," said Ginger. "Where's your lorry? We'll havea go at it."

  "Well, if you two chaps 'll be a pair of crutches I'll take you to it.I'm bruised all over, and my ankle's got a twist so that I can't hardlywalk. It's about a mile away."

  Supported by Kenneth on one side and Harry on the other, the man ledthem slowly along the by-road.

  "I only came out a week ago, a Carter Paterson man I am," he said. "Iwas driving up a load of grub for the Wessexes, and somehow took thewrong turning away back there. I'd drive over London blindfold, but I'mnew to this job, see. It came over misty, and I got a so
rt of notion Iwas on the wrong road, and there was nobody about to ask the way of,even supposing I could have made 'em understand me. However, at last Ihappened to catch sight of a fat parson in a long cloak just ahead ofme. I pulled up, and pointed to the name of the village on my map, fortwist my tongue to it I couldn't. 'All right, my man,' says he,speaking English like a countryman. 'You take the first turning on theright': that's this road we're on now. That seemed about the rightdirection. 'Good road?' says I: 'not too soft for a heavy load?''Capital road,' says he. 'Go as fast as you like, straight through tothe road you've left.'

  "Well, it seemed all right. Wasn't a bad road for a bit, and I put onspeed to make up for lost time. Then, just as I was going through anavenue of trees, and what with the mist and the shade couldn't see morethan a few yards ahead, the road took a sharp dip, and I throttled downand screwed on the brakes; but the road made a sudden bend, and before Iknew where I was, I was chucked in the ditch by the roadside. I wasdazed for a bit, and when I come to, there was the lorry in the field.I crawled to it; it was stuck fast, and even it if hadn't been Icouldn't have driven it in the mashed state I was in. A pretty fix tobe in, in a strange country, with no garage handy. I didn't know whatto do. When I'd recovered a bit, I crawled back to see if I could findthat parson. It was all his fault, not warning me, and he ought to getme out of the mess. But I couldn't find him, so all I could do was tocrawl to the main road, on the chance of seeing some of our chaps. Itwas hours before any one came along; just my luck; another time the roadwould very likely have been crowded. But presently that cyclist came upat forty miles an hour. He would have gone past if I hadn't bellowedlike a bull. He wouldn't get off his machine to take a look at thelorry, but he said he'd send help if he could. And all I want is to gethold of that parson; I'd know him again in a minute by his size and thewart on his nose. Why, a German couldn't have served me a dirtiertrick; and he said he knew the road.... There's the lorry; I doubtwhether you'll get it up; and the Wessexes howling for their grub, Iexpect."

  The lorry was tilted over to one side, with the near front wheelembedded nearly up to the axle in the soft earth of the field.

  "Got a jack?" asked Ginger.

  "You'll find it under the seat."

  Ginger fetched it, and with his companions tried to jack the wheel up;but the tool sank into the earth.

  "Let's unload and then see," suggested Kenneth.

  It took them half an hour to unload the car, working so hard that theywere all bathed in perspiration. Again they plied the jack, but invain.

  "The only chance is to get something solid to put under it," saidGinger. "There's nothing handy hereabouts. Any houses about here?" heasked the driver.

  "Hanged if I know. It was too misty to see when I came along. Theparson lives somewhere, I suppose."

  "I'll run up the hill and take a look round," said Harry.

  "Take your rifle, man," Kenneth called, as Harry was starting withoutit.

  "All right; but we're miles away from the German front. You might havea look at the engine while I'm gone."

  All this time there had been sounds of firing in the distance eastward,with reports of British guns at intervals nearer at hand. But they werenow so familiar with such sounds that they scarcely heeded them. Gunsand gunners were alike out of sight. There were few signs of warimmediately around them; but for the absence of human activity on thefields the country might have been at peace.

  Harry went up the hill and for some distance along the road before hediscovered anything that promised assistance. A slight breeze wasdispersing the mist; but the sun was already far down in the westernsky; in an hour or two it would be dark. At length, on his right henoticed a rough cart track leading to a small farm building half hiddenin a hollow about half a mile away. He hurried towards it across thefields, soon regretting that he had not gone by the beaten track, forthe soil was soft and heavy.

  Approaching the building at an angle, he saw a man pottering about inthe yard. While he was still at some distance the man happened to glancetowards him, then went into the house. Harry quickened his pace, andentering the yard, was met at the house door by a burly individual whogave a somewhat surly response to his salutation. In his best FrenchHarry explained the circumstances, and asked for the loan of a stoutboard.

  "You'll find one in the shed yonder," said the man. "You'll bring itback?"

  "Oh yes," Harry replied, thinking that the farmer might at least haveoffered to help. "By the way, could you lend us a horse to pull thelorry on to the roadway when we get it up?"

  "I haven't got one; all my horses are requisitioned."

  "That's hard luck. I hope we'll soon clear the country, and there'll bebetter times. Many thanks: I'll return the board presently."

  Reflecting on the hardships war inflicted on honest country people,Harry trudged back with the plank, this time taking the cart track.

  "Good man!" said Kenneth. "Where did you get it?"

  "At a small farm. The farmer's rather a bear, but I suppose the war haspretty well ruined him. Now, Ginger, let's see what we can do."

  Placing the plank by the embedded wheel, they set the jack on it andscrewed up the axle until they finally succeeded in releasing the wheel.

  "The lorry isn't damaged, luckily," said Kenneth. "We'll get the wheelon to the plank, then I'll start the engine and we'll back on to theroad. You fellows shove."

  In a few more minutes the lorry stood on the road, facing towards itsoriginal destination.

  "Now for loading up," said Harry. "This is back-aching work; Ishouldn't care to be a docker."

  The three men started to carry the boxes and baskets from the field tothe lorry, the driver sitting on the grass by the roadside. They wereabout halfway through the work when they heard the hum of an aeroplane.Like the reports of artillery it was so common a sound that they paidlittle attention to it. But Kenneth, glancing up as the sound grewlouder, exclaimed:

  "It's a Taube, about 5000 feet up. I fancy. There'll be a pretty chasepresently. By Jove! it's dropping. Something must have gone wrong withthe engine. I'll try a pot shot at it if you fellows will go onloading."

  Seizing his rifle, he stood watching the aeroplane as it circled abovethem, gradually coming lower.

  "Look out!" he cried suddenly.

  Almost as soon as he had spoken there was a terrific crash on the roadabout thirty yards away, and a shower of earth and stones bespatteredthe lorry and the men. Kenneth fired as the Taube made another sweepround, still lower.

  "Here's another!" he called. "Down with you."

  They all threw themselves flat on their faces. The second bomb explodedfarther away than the first, doing no damage. They sprang to their feet,and all three fired at the aeroplane, which was now making a vol plane,and would come to earth apparently about half a mile away.

  "We'll nab them," cried Ginger. "Come on."

  They ran up the hill. The aeroplane was descending on the far side ofthe farm, near a clump of trees. They rushed across the fields, andwere just in time to see a man leap from the aeroplane and dive into thecopse. The farmer joined them as they ran past. They came to theaeroplane. The pilot was _in extremis_. After the shot had struck himhe had managed to control the machine until it reached earth; he wouldnever fly again.

  "We must catch the other fellow," said Kenneth.

  All three ran into the copse, the farmer following them. Separating,they scoured the plantation in all directions without finding thefugitive. After about half an hour Kenneth called the others together.

  "He seems to have got away," he said. "We must give it up. It'll soonbe dark, and we've got to get the lorry home. Ginger, will you mountguard over the aeroplane? Our fellows are sure to have seen it, and willno doubt be coming up shortly. We'll motor back if we can borrow acar."

  "Right you are," said Ginger. "I'll wait for you, in any case."

  The others left him, returned to the lorry, and lifting the driver on toit, dr
ove off rapidly towards its destination. There they told theirstory, and the colonel at once sent off a motor omnibus with a number ofmen to secure the aeroplane. When they approached the spot where theyhad left it the machine was gone.

  "Somebody must have fetched it already," said Kenneth. "It's a pity youfellows are too late."

  They drew up at the rear of the farm. Kenneth and Harry sprang out,surprised that Ginger was not awaiting them.

  "He's inside, perhaps," said Harry. "He makes friends of most people;perhaps he has got over the farmer's surliness."

  They went through the yard to the house door. The farmer met them onthe threshold.

  "Ah, messieurs," he said, "this is lamentable."

  "What do you mean?" asked Harry.

  "Your comrade, messieurs, he is gone. I fear he is a prisoner. He madesigns that he was thirsty, and I left him there at the aeroplane while Ireturned here to fetch him some little refreshment. Ma foi! I was justuncorking the bottle when I heard a whirr. I rushed out with the bottlein one hand and the corkscrew in the other, and voila! there was theaeroplane already in the air."

  "But how?--what..."

  "I do not know," said the farmer, with a shrug. "I only guess. The manwho ran away must have hidden until your backs were turned, then comeback and overpowered your comrade and flown away with him."

  "That's very rummy," said Kenneth to Harry. "Ginger isn't a man to becaught napping easily. What do you make of it, sir?" he asked thelieutenant in charge of the omnibus party, who had followed them.

  Kenneth repeated the farmer's story.

  "Very curious," said the officer quietly. "The man wasn't himself aflier, I suppose?"

  "No."

  "Well, I think we'll run your farmer back to headquarters. It looksrather fishy: there are spies all over the place. You speak French? Idon't, more's the pity. Just tell this fellow he's to come with me."

  The farmer protested volubly, but the officer was inexorable. Theomnibus party returned with their prisoner, and Kenneth and Harrytramped back in the twilight to their village.