by D. E. Kirk
The early autumn sun warmed our backs as we left the pretty Edwardian town behind us and progressed rapidly through the dry Norfolk lanes. Jackson, high stepping in the trot, seemed to be enjoying every minute and I said as much to Josh who explained that he was really the children’s pony but since they had gone off to boarding school he had done very little but eat grass and get fat. Petrol restrictions meant that the Austin had been put up on bricks and the trap pressed back into service. With this new job to do Jackson had found a new lease of life, relishing every minute of his new found role.
We arrived at the vicarage after about 20 minutes and were greeted at the door by Ronnie’s Aunt Rosemary, a good looking woman, at a guess some ten years younger than her husband and with that healthy country glow that I well knew was gained by hard work and good diet. Aunt Rose greeted us both warmly and showed us to our room, apologising for the fact that we had to share, explaining that the children had not gone back to school after the summer holidays as it was thought safer for them to stay in Norfolk, their boarding school being situated right in the middle of the Kent fighter bases.
We had a great time in Norfolk, the weather stayed fine all of the time we were there; the beaches were mined but we were still able to swim in the harbour. We borrowed bikes and cycled around the many small villages, we helped out on Josh’s small holding, went to the pub daily and generally relaxed and recuperated.
Batteries recharged and feeling much more relaxed than when we had arrived, on the following Sunday at 3.00 pm we could be seen leaning out of the train window waving our goodbyes to Uncle Josh, Rosemary and the children, all of whom had insisted on coming to see us as we started off on our return journey.
After we had changed at Norwich we found an empty compartment and settled down for the last leg of our journey and the end of our leave.
One evening in the pub we had discussed this last night in London, where had we decided we would try and stay in the same NCO’s club that we had used previously. The one thing we hadn’t discussed was, what we were going to do on the Monday following? I lit two cigarettes, passed one to Ronnie and then sliding down the door window I leaned out enjoying the sunshine. With my back to Ronnie I finally plucked up the courage to ask him what he intended to do the next morning. “What’s it to be tomorrow then Ron, rail warrant to Tillington or a phone call to the Major?”
There was a pause of several seconds before Ronnie answered and then he told me what I expected but not what I wanted to hear, “I’m phoning the Major Alan, I think you knew I would. I could go back to the Artillery, after all we keep our stripes, but I just feel I can do more working for the Major.”
“What about the lads?” I said “Harry, Jack and Fishy, I thought we made a good team.”
“I bet you won’t see Fishy again, I’d bet a months’ pay he stays on that boat for the duration, I know the other two are nice enough lads Alan, but in all honesty that’s all you can say about them.”
“Well think back to France…” I said “Don’t you think we were lucky to get back at all? We were captured for God’s sake, how long do you think your luck would hold?”
We argued the point, tossing it back and forth all the way to Victoria, it was obvious that both our minds were made up, as we got down from the train we agreed to disagree and enjoy our last night together. We managed to get a twin room at the NCO’s club and after the usual bath, shave and change into fresh shirts we were off to sample the West End but not before Ronnie had stopped off in the foyer to telephone the Major and inform him of his decision. When he came back he told me that the Major had expressed his disappointment that I was not to join them but had asked Ron to thank me and give me his best wishes for the future, adding that if I changed my mind, to ring him anytime.
Well we did our best to have a good time but both of us were sad that our partnership was dissolving, a lot of false laughter was heard during the evening and I think it was with some relief when our night was ended early by an unscheduled air raid.
The next morning after breakfast I said a rather too formal goodbye to Ron and made my way to Euston for the train to Tillington.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
By early afternoon I once again found myself on the station at Oxford and having handed in my rail warrant, I shouldered my kitbag, put my cape over both that and me and went outside into the rain to walk the two miles or so to Tillington Camp.
In not much more than half an hour I had arrived at the camp and felt much better for the walk and the opportunity to loosen up after being confined inside the train for so long.
At the camp I found that the barrier was down and the guardhouse door was closed to keep out the rain, despite the warmth of the day smoke was billowing from the chimney and I could hear a wireless playing inside. I knocked and waited but the door stayed shut, I knocked again and was about to try for a third time when I heard a movement inside. The door opened about a third of the way and framed in the gap stood Sergeant Foxwell. “Well, Well, Well.” said Foxwell, the light inside the hut reflecting off his uncapped balding pate, a smirk on his face, “the return of the prodigal Bombardier, didn’t keep you waiting in the rain did I Hibert? Now then this is a bit sudden you know, no one told us you were coming.
I had forgotten about Foxwell and seeing him again quickly took away the good feeling I had experienced with the walk to the camp, I remembered how much I had disliked this man from the first time we had met.
I wasn’t going to stand in the rain letting him have fun at my expense. “Look,” I said “why don’t you just do your job and ring the Duty Officer and let him know I’m here.” his face darkened and he spluttered, he was about to speak when I moved the cape to reveal my Sergeant’s stripes and with a smile on my face I continued “and before you start with anymore of your usual sarcastic rubbish Foxwell, have a good look at these, we are on equal terms now mate.” His face went purple with rage and frustration but nevertheless he made the phone call.
Feeling quite pleased with myself I made my way up the main road through the camp to the admin block.
The sky was starting to darken now but I could see that a lot of work had gone on in my absence and the place had a more established look about it, there were a lot more soldiers now. They were all busily moving up and down the roads, some with an urgency suggesting that they were still engaged in the days work, others much more leisurely, giving the impression that they had finished for the day. The one thing they all had in common was that none of them were remotely interested in me as I passed them by in the rain.
I saw a hut with a sign indicating it was the headquarters block so I found the entrance, went in and gave my name to the Orderly. The man, whom I did not recognise, got up from the desk and showed me into the Duty Office where a very young second Lieutenant introduced himself to me and then went about the business of recording all my relevant details into the day book. After he had completed this task he shouted for the Orderly to come back in to the office.
It was fairly obvious that my turning up unexpectedly had caught them off guard and that they needed somewhere to shove me until someone could find me a job? I realised what was going on, so I suggested that I might renew my acquaintance with my old crew. The Orderly left the office and came back, carrying a register, I gave him the names of Jack and Harry and when he checked through his lists he found that they were still in hut 48, a further check showed that as yet no one occupied the Sergeants room in that particular hut. Relieved the Lieutenant suggested I bunk down in there, at least temporarily and asked that I report back to the office at 9.30 the next morning. He mentioned something about the Sergeant’s Mess, muttered an embarrassed ‘Carry on Sergeant’ and shepherded me out of the room closing the door firmly behind me. Once outside the Orderly, who I think had by now decided that I was one of the good guys, asked “Will you find your way ok Sarge?” I nodded my thanks, shouldered my kit bag and walked down to hut 48.
The inside of the hut was empty except fo
r one person who appeared to be asleep on the bed furthest away from the door. I walked towards him and as I got nearer, saw that he held a lit cigarette in his hand, he turned a pudgy acne’d face towards me and opened his eyes. “What do you bloody want, are you lost pal?” he said in a southern accent not unlike Fishy’s. I recognised an opportunity for some sport and I told him that I used to be in the same gun crew as Jack and Harry and that the Duty Officer had told me to bunk down in the same hut as them so here I was. “Well you’d better get down that end then by the door cus that’s where they are.” he said lighting a new cigarette from the butt of the old one.
“Where are they anyway?” I asked?
“All the rest of the boy’s are out on the ranges.” He replied and then added, “And before you ask I’m excused duty.” I looked at him for a moment and then asked him why? “Well I could give you the official answer which is that I have hurt my back, or I could tell you the real answer and mark your card for you at the same time see, and the real answer is simple, my sister’s husband runs this camp and he’s told me to run this hut for him and I let him know what’s happening see.”
“Blimey,” I said “your sister’s married to the Colonel is she?”
I asked, knowing as I said it that it was unlikely. “Are you as stupid as you look?” he asked, jumping up off his bed and going over to get a mug of tea from the pot on the stove. “Well who is she married to then?” I asked.
“Listen you dope, Officers don’t run this camp, my brother in law is in charge and I’ll give you his name so you don’t forget it right? It’s Sergeant Foxwell remember it, now here endeth the lesson, so bugger off down that end of the hut and leave me in peace right?”
I looked at him for a long time, in fact until he was about to speak again and then it was my turn to speak.
“You know Private, I think I like it down this end of the hut, it seems warmer, and in fact when I was last here we were all down this end if I remember right? But do you know, I think I’m going to bunk down in this little room here, the one that says Sergeant on the door. Is that ok with you?” I said, as I took off the cape and revealed my stripes. His face went visibly paler, “Now then,” I said” I don’t know how long I’ll be with you but I think it’s my duty to get you better as quickly as I can. So as I’ve always thought exercise was the best remedy for a bad back we’ll have some you and me, exercise that is, so a little later we’ll get into our PE kit and we’ll have a little cross country to loosen you up a little. Now get off that bed, put out that cigarette and find a brush and get this hut cleaned up.” With that I picked up my kit and entered the Sergeant’s room.
I unpacked my kit bag into the locker, took a look around to see what I’d got and then went back into the main hut. The podgy soldier was half heartedly pushing the brush around the room.
“By the way,” I said “you didn’t tell me your name?”
He stopped and thought for a while before mumbling Roberts.
“You mean Roberts, Sergeant, don’t you?” I said, lighting a cigarette as I spoke, “now then leave that and get into your PE kit I think you need some fresh air, it will cheer you up a bit.” He messed about in his locker and eventually, reluctantly stripped off, changing into his singlet and shorts, neither of which looked as if they had seen much wear. “Good lad,” I said “that’s better, now slip your plimsolls’ on while I go and get ready.”
Two minutes later I came back out of my room wearing denim trousers, a singlet and my soft boots.”Come on then Roberts let’s get to it.”
It was still raining quite hard and Roberts looked shocked as he left the warmth of the hut, he looked much worse though as thirty five minutes later we returned to the hut just as dusk was falling.
Roberts had struggled after the first five minutes but I had kept him at it, running him around the camp perimeter but avoiding the guard hut not wanting to involve his brother in law just yet, although I knew that it would only be a matter of time before that happened.
Inside, the hut was warm, the lights were on, five soldiers stood around the stove talking and smoking, all of them turned as we entered.
Roberts was blowing like a train and they all stared at him and then at me with puzzled expressions on their faces. “Hello Jack, Harry, remember me?” I asked as I walked over towards the group. Harry was the first to regain his composure “Blimey Bomb, you’re back, where’s Ronnie and Fishy?”
“Long story, I’ll tell you both later but there’s just me, the others aren’t coming back and for the record it’s not Bomb anymore I’ve got the other one now to complete the set. So for the time being I think I’m your new Sergeant.”
Jack told me that they needed to get off to the mess hut before all the food had gone and I agreed to walk down with them and get a meal too. I didn’t need a shower as I had not broken sweat during my recent exercise.
I ate a passable meal sitting with two Sergeants from the admin block who told me as much as they could about the camp routines during the meal. Later, while they smoked a cigarette and drank a coffee they invited me to join them for a drink later in the Sergeant’s mess. I told them I probably would and made my excuses to leave when I saw Jack and Harry getting up to go.
Outside I caught sight of the group from my hut and trotted up to join them. I couldn’t help but notice that the conversation dropped off when I joined them and I realised for the first time that my Sergeant’s stripes had created a barrier between us, the lads were friendly enough but wary.
Inside the hut Roberts was asleep on his bed but woke up when we entered, he pulled himself together, scowled at me and left the hut. All of the lads grinned as they watched him leave.
Someone got a brew on and I called Jack and Harry into my room, I gave them a plausible story about Ronnie and I being selected for officer training and Fishy transferring to Coastal Command. They seemed to buy it ok, I told them that I realised it was a bit awkward for them now I that I had my stripes but said I hoped they would not be too much of a barrier to our friendship? They agreed it shouldn’t be and then went out to join the other members of the hut.
Later that evening I went down to the Sergeant’s mess to join the two blokes who I had met in the mess hall, along with a third who they introduced me to. We all settled down to a game of whist and a quiet pint. I offered to get the second round in and ignoring the steward went up to the bar, bought four pints and was carrying them back on a tray when I felt a push in my back which caused me to stumble spilling two of the pints. I regained my balance and turned around to see what had happened.
Behind me, his face white with anger, his lips stretched tightly, stood Sergeant Foxwell “You need to be careful Hibert, next time you might hurt yourself and not just spill your beer.”
I stepped back and put the tray down on the nearest table “Oh I’m always careful Foxwell, just watch how careful I am if you push me again.” I replied watching him carefully.
“And I might just do that, you’re not dealing with a kid now you know I’m more your size, so now what do you say?” he said taking a step towards me his huge hands balled into fists.
By now all conversation in the mess had died and we were the centre of attention, almost too late, I saw his left arm shoot out towards my face, I moved but not quickly enough, a stinging blow caught my right ear. I stepped back and raised my left forearm to stop the right hander heading for my chin. More by instinct than judgement I replied with a right uppercut that caught him square on the chin, he went down, leaving me as surprised as he was. By this time a burly Sergeant had grabbed my arms and pulled me back saying in a friendly way “that’ll do for now son, we’ll stop now shall we while it’s still self defence.”
Someone helped Foxwell to his feet and he glared at me and said something like, “I’ll get you for this.” and then shrugging off the chap who had helped him up, turned on his heel and stormed out of the building.
The following morning I had an early breakfast in the Sergeants mess
and a little before eight a.m. reported to the admin block requesting a meeting with the Duty Officer.
One of the Sergeants from the previous evening came into the room where I was waiting and called me over to him.
He explained that my return to the unit had caught them out, but it looked as if a slot had been found for me and I was to be given a bunch of new recruits to turn into an additional platoon. He explained they were going to do it anyway but my turning up meant they could do it earlier.
The Lieutenant I had met the previous day came in and asked me to follow him, which I did. We went down a passage, he eventually stopped outside a door, knocked and went in, signalling for me to wait outside, closing the door. A very short time later he opened the door and asked me to come in. Behind a desk sat a man in his fifties, with Captains pips on his shoulder and a row of medal ribbons on his chest. He looked at the Lieutenant and told him that would be all, he then looked up at me said, “Sergeant Hibert.” I stood to attention and saluted as smartly as I could. “I’m Captain Peters, you’ll be reporting to me from now on; now I see from your file that you don’t really have any experience as a Sergeant, although it looks as though you were doing alright as a Bombardier, got your lads back from Dunkirk etc. so we’ll hope for the best eh?”
He stood up from behind the desk and started to fill his pipe, he turned to look out of the window towards the parade ground and was just about to speak again when suddenly the office door opened, we both turned to see the cause of the interruption and there in the doorframe, red faced and looking extremely angry stood the unmistakeable shape of Captain Forbes-Hamilton. Except that, the Captains’ pips had now gone and he was now wearing the rank of Major. “Captain Peters,” he spluttered “I don’t know what you were doing with this man but whatever it was stop it immediately and get him on a charge and over to the glass house. Are you aware he attacked another Sergeant in the Sergeants mess last night? I’ve no place for a man like that here and neither has the Army; we need to arrange a summary Court Marshal just as soon as we can.”