The Boy and the Battleship

by Christopher Cummings

  Max shook his head. “No I don’t. Germany has a land border with the Trogs,” he replied. Peter was appealed to, but agreed with Max. A chalk line was drawn on the floor.

  Graham dug out his new 2nd Regt as well but was plainly outnumbered. He then began mounting a series of air raids. Max opened another box and took out four small ME 109 fighters. They were made of balsa, with cardboard wings. They were coloured dark green and had yellow noses and black crosses as markings. They looked good and soon proved to be formidable opposition in the air.

  The battle raged until all of Max’s planes were down, plus half of Graham’s. He then turned his air power on the advancing German armour. Excitement mounted as the German Panzer force continued to advance and the two tank forces started firing at each other. By then Max had lost nearly half his tanks to air attack. The dice flew quickly and excitement mounted. Tank after tank was knocked out on both sides. Alex came to watch.

  Graham saw that he was loosing. He had only three tanks left and the Germans had a dozen. He launched more air attacks until he had lost the last of his Trog planes. By then he had no tanks or guns left and the Germans had four tanks still advancing. In desperation he started using the guns from his destroyer which was tied up in harbour. Max accepted this but simply hid his tanks behind cover and reached into his bag again.

  Out came a model U-boat. Graham protested, but was over-ruled. His harbour had no defences: no booms or nets. Max’s sub fired torpedo after torpedo and sank all of Graham’s ships. He became desperate. Going to the far end of the veranda he picked up planes from the deck of the British carrier HMS Glorious.

  “Britain is coming to the Trogs aid,” he said. “In answer to the unprovoked aggression by the Germans.”

  Max said no, but this time Peter and Alex both sided with Graham and said that there were historical precedents for it. So Graham launched a massive air strike with the twelve carrier planes and blew up all of Max’s tanks.

  It had been a good battle and they all enjoyed it. Graham was a bit peeved that his new regiment of tanks were no longer a secret. I will have to make another regiment, he thought. Then he realized he probably needed more than one, if Max already had fifty German tanks and Alex over thirty.

  That night he made another eleven Trog tanks, this time with a dark blue regimental badge. He also decided he had better make the British Expeditionary Force, to give him an army to come to the aid of the Trogs. He drew the plans for a Matilda tank then carefully made one. He painted it dark green. Three tucks, one with a canvas canopy, plus an ambulance, were added: for proper logistical support because they will be a long way from home. These were also painted dark green.

  Inspired by this Graham next made three Spitfires for the RAF. These were also of balsa construction and he took particular care to make them accurately. They were painted green and brown camouflage and tiny plastic cockpits added. Markings of coloured paper were glued on. Graham held up the best of the finished planes and admired it from every direction.

  “This is the Biggles squadron,” he told himself. “And this one is Biggles’ plane.”

  The Spitfire squadron obviously needed hangars and supporting vehicles so he set to work to make cardboard hangars and two jeeps, three covered trucks, a petrol tanker, a radio truck and an ambulance, all painted dark blue and with tiny RAF roundels on the sides. It was a very pleased boy who took himself to bed after that effort.

  Wednesday passed quickly as Graham behaved in class. He devoted his spare thoughts to planning more developments for the game. One problem that had been nagging at him was the problem of the playing area. His veranda and Max’s back patio had definite limitations. He experimented with various maps of the veranda to try to divide it up between Britain, the Trogs and the Germans and found it very constricted and crowded. This led his thought back to the idea he had initially rejected, of using the downstairs Ship Room for the new game.

  I hardly ever play with the sailing ships or plasticine people any more, he told himself.

  So, as soon as he got home, he went down to the Ship Room and studied the situation. His real problem was that he had great nostalgia for his sailing ships and little people but had to concede they were not played with much. He also noted that many of the plasticine people had become very soiled by dust and dirt on the concrete floor. Indeed some had become so dirty that it was hard to tell what the original colour of their clothes had been.

  “I can clean these models up,” he said, “And I can always take them out and play with them if I want to.”

  That decided he walked around the room considering where the various countries might go. The coastline and borders of several were already marked out in chalk but they weren’t in their correct geographical relationship to each other. He had an odd-shaped Britain, which had a huge harbour in the south coast for the fleet to tie up. Nearby was France, but it only had good harbours on its Atlantic coast. It butted onto various other countries, some fictional, like Lucrania, and others real, such as Spain and Prussia. A huge rock nearly a metre high was placed on a peninsula on the Spanish coast. It represented the Rock of Gibraltar.

  But Africa was not south of Spain, rather west of it. Graham shrugged. It would have to do. Beyond that on the other side of a narrow Atlantic was a collection of islands which represented the Caribbean, with North America north of them.

  “I suppose we can redraw all this,” he muttered. He stood contemplating how the area might be divided equally between four players. As he did his mind wandered back to when he had stood there with Cindy. That got his imagination going and he soon became excited and started to fantasize. For a while he enjoyed the experience, but then shame and guilt crept in and he bit his lip with regret. I am partly responsible for her bad behaviour, he thought. So it is my responsibility to try to save her.

  At that moment Alex arrived home with Max so Graham went upstairs to talk to them. He found that they had gone into Alex’s room and when he knocked on the door Alex told him to bugger off in no uncertain terms. He and Max were obviously plotting some mischief so Graham went to his desk and sat considering what he needed next for the game.

  More Trog fighter planes, he decided. He only had five and Alex had eighteen. Work was begun to construct another five, to the same design as before. Max came out to see what he was doing but Graham was able to hide his work in his desk drawer in time.

  Later Max chatted to him before going home and that left Graham feeling even more guilty and ashamed, and doubly so because he found he was still aroused by thoughts of Cindy.

  I am so weak! he told himself

  At tea that night his mother posed another problem Graham had not thought about. “This party you are having on Saturday night. Where are you going to play the games?” she asked.

  “Upstairs here I suppose mum,” he answered.

  Mrs Kirk pursed her lips. “What about cleaning out your ship room,” she suggested. “It is time it had a good sweep out anyway.”

  Graham nodded. That fitted in with what he had been considering anyway. “OK mum. I will clean it out,” he agreed. “We are thinking of using it for our new game anyway.”

  “That will be a good idea,” she said, “I am getting a bit sick of stepping over model ships all over the house.”

  Kylie nodded. “I agree,” she added, “I don’t like all the noise when you boys play your silly war games upstairs.”

  “They aren’t silly!” Graham replied.

  “They are!” Kylie retorted. “All war is stupid.”

  Graham shrugged. It was an old argument. “So are girls.”

  “Huh! So where would you be without us?” Kylie snapped.

  “We’d get by,” Graham replied.

  Kylie snorted. “You wouldn’t even exist. It is women who have the babies,” she pointed out sarcastically.

  “Good luck to ‘em,” Graham replied.

  Mrs Kirk turned on them. “That will do you two,” she said. “Stop arguing and do the washing
up.”

  ***

  Later, after he had done his homework, Graham settled to finishing the five new Trog fighters. Then he decided he needed another Trog warship. Something to provide naval gunfire support to the landing barges, he thought. He decided that another gunboat, similar to the Tarantula, was what he needed. He began construction of it, humming happily while he listened to the radio. Tomorrow is my birthday and I will be thirteen. I will be able to join the navy cadets.

  Then he began to daydream about saving Thelma from smugglers. After a while this turned to heated images of Cindy. Happily fantasizing he dropped off to sleep.

  Graham woke early and happy the following morning. While he was rubbing his eyes Kylie came out onto the veranda. She carried a present.

  “Good morning Graham. Happy birthday!”

  Graham sat up and took the present. “Thanks Sis.”

  Kylie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. As she did Alex came out onto the veranda. “Good morning wart. Happy birthday! Get out of bed, you slug,” he ordered.

  So saying Alex grabbed at the sheets and pulled hard.

  “No!” Graham cried, hanging on tightly. “Leave me Alex. Stop it please. I’m trying to open Kylie’s present,” Graham pleaded.

  “No chance,” Alex laughed. He snatched the present out of Graham’s hand and tossed it to Kylie. Then he used both hands to haul on the bedclothes again and this time pulled Graham right out of bed and onto the floor. At that moment their mother also came onto the veranda.

  Mrs Kirk shook her head in disapproval. “Stop that Alex!”

  Reluctantly Alex stopped pulling. Their mother just shook her head. She said, “You others go to the kitchen till Graham is ready.”

  She ushered the others out and followed them. Graham untangled himself and quickly dressed, then he made his way to the kitchen. Alex still thought it a big joke but Kylie just smiled and again offered him the present. Graham thanked her and sat to unwrap it.

  “Oh thanks Kylie! This is just what I need,” he cried delightedly. It was a box containing a dozen tins of Humbrol model paint, plus four brushes of varying size and a bottle of thinner to clean the brushes with.

  Alex then offered his present. It was a bundle of balsa sheets, each a metre long. There were sheets of 1mm thickness, 2mm, 5mm and 1cm. “Thanks Alex. These will be very useful. Now I can beat you in our game.”

  “Some hope!” Alex snorted.

  The present from his mother was something quite different, but something he had always wanted: a face mask, flippers and snorkel. He hugged her and said thanks. She then offered the present from his father. This was a huge book called British Battleships of World War 2. It had hundreds of pages and was full of photos and detailed plans and diagrams. Graham could hardly put it down to eat his breakfast. Afterwards he sat at his desk and began reading it. His mother had to shoo him off to school. He slid the massive volume into his school bag and took it with him.

  At school he showed the book to Peter and Stephen. Peter was very interested. Roger came along but only glanced casually at the book. He opened his bag and took out a present. “Here Graham. Happy birthday!”

  “Thanks Roger,” Graham replied. He unwrapped the present to find it was a 1:700 scale plastic kit model of the British aircraft carrier HMS Victorious. Graham studied the plans carefully. He did not really want plastic kits, considering them to be beneath his dignity as a real model builder. But he was pleased that Roger had remembered and had given him something appropriate.

  Peter smiled. “I’ll give you my present at your party on Saturday.”

  “Me too,” Stephen added.

  Max and Cindy came along at that moment. To Graham’s relief and pleasure Cindy gave him a smile. Max asked: “Who owns this book?”

  “Graham’s birthday,” Peter explained.

  Max nodded. “Oh yeah. It’s your party on Saturday isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Are you still coming?” Graham asked.

  “You bet. I suppose I’d better buy you a present. What would you like?” Max asked.

  Graham shrugged. His eyes met Cindy’s. She smiled and said, “I’m still coming too. What would you like me to give you Graham?”

  Graham’s mind raced. He couldn’t decide if she was being nice or whether she was indulging in malicious teasing. There certainly appeared to be the hint of mischief in her smile and in the glint in her eyes. He struggled to frame a suitable smart remark but Stephen beat him to it. “I know what he’d like,” he said with a snicker.

  Cindy shook her head and replied: “He’s too young for that.”

  Graham blushed bright red. Stephen smirked. Peter looked embarrassed. Max said sharply: “So are you!”

  “Mind your own business!” Cindy snapped back.

  Graham was now all embarrassed and worried. Does Max know what Cindy did? he wondered. Hot memories caused a surge of arousal, guilt and shame.

  Cindy added to this when she turned to him and said, “Tell me later what you want Graham. I will try to give it to you.”

  Scowling at Max and then Stephen she turned and walked away, leaving Graham feeling excited and in turmoil. What had she meant by that? Am I back in her good books? he wondered hopefully. That was followed by more guilt and anger at his own weakness.

  In class Graham showed his new book to several others and tried to read from it. This led to Old Wily spotting it, with the resulting interrogation as to why he wasn’t doing his school work.

  “It’s my birthday sir,” Graham replied.

  Old Wily raised an eyebrow. “So? How old are you Graham?”

  “Thirteen sir. Now I’m old enough to join the navy cadets.”

  “Fine. Now put the book away and do some work.”

  “Yes sir.” Graham did as he was told. He looked around and met Thelma’s eye. She smiled and his heart leapt. He smiled back. She must like me! Maybe there is hope.

  After school Graham went straight home. He looked at his presents then settled to read the book on battleships. He was engrossed in this when Kylie arrived home with Margaret. Margaret came over to Graham with her hands behind her back.

  “Hello Graham. Happy birthday,” she said. Shyly she held out a present. Graham sat up and took it from her with a smile and thanks. “Oh!” she gasped; then leaned forward and put her arms around his neck and gave him a fumbling kiss on the cheek. Before Graham could react she fled into the house.

  Graham sighed. Poor kid! He did like her, but she was too young—two years too young. Besides, how could she compare with Thelma, or with what Cindy might be going to offer him? His mind raced off into fantasies again and only returned to the study of battleships with difficulty. A cold shower helped.

  The evening was spent reading and looking at the presents. When bed time came around Graham was reluctant to put down his new book. It was crammed with fascinating technicalities as well as detailed pictures. Already he had visions of making new battleship models that would be masterpieces of their kind. Between dreams of model ships and fantasies about Cindy he slipped into a pleasant sleep.

  ***

  Friday was a fairly stressful day. Graham’s mother reminded him in the morning that she had booked him in at the doctor’s for his medical checkup after school. “3:30 at Dr Sword’s,” she said. Thinking about that got Graham quite anxious. I hope there is nothing wrong so I can join the navy cadets, he thought. The worry nagged at him all day. But apart from that most of the day passed in a whirl. All Graham could think of all day was the fact that he was thirteen and that he could join the navy cadets the next day. If I pass the medical that is, he thought.

  As soon as school was over Graham hurried to the doctor’s surgery. His mother met him there and sat with him in the waiting room. Even at his age Graham had enough experience of doctor’s waiting rooms to have brought a book. In this case it was on battleships and it kept him happily engrossed until his name was called. He found that all to the good because he was more nervous than he cared to
admit.

  At length a nurse took him into another room and measured his height, chest expansion and weight, a process he found somewhat embarrassing. She then made some notes and left him.

  Over 10 more minutes dragged by before the doctor appeared. He gave Graham a friendly smile and seated himself at his desk. Dr Sword had been the family doctor for years and was a grey-headed old gentleman. Graham had often been treated by him for various cuts and fevers but this was different. He hoped that the worst of the embarrassment was over but remembered stories from other boys and that kept him anxious. The other boys were right: there was more shame to come.

  The doctor took his pulse, listened to his heart beat with a stethoscope, measured his blood pressure and had him stand up. Then he had Graham bend and kneel and jump to check that his limbs and joints were all working normally. That got Graham all hot and flustered again. Prancing up and down in his underpants in front of a middle-aged man he found very stressful. He found he was perspiring and felt uncomfortable and vulnerable.

  But there was worse to come. The doctor asked him to turn around, pull his pants down and then bend over. While the doctor examined him from behind Graham could only burn with humiliation. Then he had to face the doctor and the man reached forward and gently gripped his testicles and felt them, then ordered him to cough.

  “To check for hernias,” he explained.

  Graham had no idea what a hernia was so could only blush with embarrassment and obey. He found it a real relief to be told to pull his pants up.

  The doctor then picked up a book and flicked through it. The pages were covered with patterns of coloured dots and he instructed Graham to tell him what he saw. Mostly Graham saw numbers and said so. The doctor nodded and said, “Colour vision is normal.” The doctor then put the book down and looked closely into his eyes with a magnifying gadget. He then pointed to an eye chart on the wall. “Can you read the bottom line of that?” he asked.

  Graham looked and read the letters. The doctor nodded and then said, “Cover your left eye. Now read the line above that.”