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The Cadet Corporal

Page 9

by Christopher Cummings


  “Snake!”

  The cadets scrambled to their feet and half the platoon hurried over to where Barbara and Gwen were standing. It was a snake alright, a big, golden-coloured one which slithered slowly along through the short grass. Graham stared at it, both fascinated and afraid simultaneously. ‘Bloody hell!’ he thought, noting that the reptile was over a metre long. ‘This is where we walked last night on the navex!’

  He found Kirsty beside him and she gripped his arm. “Oooh! Look how big it is!” she cried.

  That caused a ripple of laughter and several comments based on jokes about size not being important. Lt McEwen was not amused. “Stop that sort of talk!” she snapped.

  As the snake slid closer, apparently ignoring the cadets, Kirsty backed against Graham and clung to his arm, pressing herself against him as she did. “What sort is it?” she asked.

  “Don’t know,” Graham had to admit. He liked to pride himself on being a snake ‘expert’ but was coming to realise that most could not be identified easily, at least not by their looks. “Might be a Western Taipan, or maybe a King Brown,” he suggested.

  “That’s what bit you wasn’t it?” Kirsty asked.

  Graham nodded. He began to step backwards as the snake slid even closer. To him it looked like the very essence of liquid evil but it also held a fearful fascination and beauty.

  Lt McEwen now took charge. “Move away you people. Get back here!” she ordered, her voice full of anxiety.

  “It’s alright Miss,” Halyday called. “We know how to treat snake bites now!”

  “Don’t be cheeky Cadet Halyday!” Lt McEwen snapped. “Now get back here this instant.”

  They did as they were told. By then the snake had vanished into an incredibly tiny bush. Roger gave a short laugh and said, “He is late for the lesson Miss. You needed him at the start.”

  “Yeah, he could have bitten you,” Andrews called.

  “Bite your bum Andrews,” Roger retorted.

  “That will do you boys,” Lt McEwen called. “Where did it go?”

  “Into that bush Miss,” they chorused.

  So the platoon was moved away and the girls made a big detour to go to the toilet and back. When they returned Sgt Grenfell again ordered them all to drink. It was now very hot and sweaty, and again with no breeze so they did so. CUO Masters arrived and also ordered them to drink. “Lt Maclaren just told me that the Heat Monitor says it is thirty four degrees,” he said. “That is three or four degrees hotter than it usually is in September, so drink. We don’t want anyone getting heat exhaustion.”

  They all did as they were told, then moved for the next lesson. This was taught by the section corporals. It was on personal camouflage and concealment. Graham was prepared for this. Fieldcraft was something he really enjoyed and he prided himself on being good at it. For the next half hour he had them all ‘cammed up’ and then took them to demonstrate places to hide and to explain ‘dead ground’. The girls were reluctant to apply camouflage cream to their faces and so, surprisingly, was Halyday. “I don’t want to!” he protested.

  Graham insisted so he reluctantly did so, applying only the bare minimum. Then he did not want to lie down on the ground to practice hiding. “What if there’s another snake?” he asked anxiously.

  “You gave us the answer yourself,” Graham said “We have just learned how to treat snake bites.”

  The section all laughed. Halyday scowled. “Oh very funny!” he retorted. With the minimum of enthusiasm he took cover near a bush.

  During the lesson the Hutchie Men came around to show the cadets their Yowie suits and to demonstrate once again how they were almost impossible to see if they lay still, even out in short grass. They then moved off up to where 1 Platoon was training.

  At the end of the lesson Sgt Grenfell called them in and made them drink again. All were hot and sweaty and a few were starting to show the effects of the heat. By this Graham had drunk so much he needed to go to the toilet again. As most of the section needed to refill their waterbottles he led them back to the bivouac area and then headed quickly for the 4 Platoon toilet while they did this.

  There was no-one at the toilet and Graham stood facing towards where he could see 4 Platoon training over near the track to Scrubby Creek while he did another pee. Thus he was able to look over the top of the Hessian screen and see that no-one was near. He relaxed. No-one from 4 Platoon could get close without him knowing. All of a sudden his senses prickled and he heard a noise behind him. Unable to stop peeing he could only glance over his shoulder. What he saw made his heart palpitate in fright. Two huge, hairy forms had risen up from the head of the gully behind him and were walking towards him, arms uplifted.

  Hutchie Men!

  “Oohoo! Gotcha Kirk!” cried Ziggy. Graham tried to pretend he wasn’t scared and kept on peeing as they ran over to him hooting and shouting. Porno came and stood on one side of him and Ziggy on the other. Graham could not see their faces but knew who it was by the voices. He braced himself for some sort of indignity or assault but they just stood beside him and looked down. Now he came under another sort of pressure-male pride.

  To Graham’s dismay, from not being able to stop he now found fear was shrivelling him and drying up the flow. With an effort of will he forced himself to keep pumping.

  “What a tiny dick!” Ziggy sneered.

  Stung by the insult Graham retorted. “Do you go around looking do you?”

  “Get stuffed!” Ziggy snarled. But Graham could tell his jibe had gone home. For a second he thought he was going to be attacked as Ziggy shouldered him. However he stood his ground and kept going. Next to him Porno heaved his Yowie suit to one side and unzipped his trousers. As he started to pee he said, “Scared you then Mister Dobber Corporal!”

  Graham felt really hurt by that but he tried to stay calm. To try to defuse the situation he said as calmly as he could, “What are you blokes doing next?”

  “We are just about to head off on a recon patrol over to the army camp,” Ziggy replied.

  “What for?” Graham asked, surprised by the statement.

  “That Heatley Cadet Unit is due to arrive at four O’clock and Capt Conkey wants to keep an eye on them,” Ziggy explained.

  “Bloody Heatley! They think they are just too good!” Graham commented. The army cadet unit based at Heatley in Townsville was famous throughout North Queensland both for the tough exercises it did, and for nearly always winning some of the prizes on the promotion courses.

  “We’ll show them who’s best!” Ziggy replied.

  By then Graham was finished so he hurried back to his section. He had another big drink, refilled his own waterbottles, then joined the platoon under the big ironbark for the next lesson. This was on stretcher drill and the improvised movement of casualties. Lt Hamilton was again the instructor. HQ and the CUOs provided the demo squad. It was a very practical lesson with various drags, arm carries and lifts practised. During it Graham noted the Hutchie Men, plus Cadet James (a sig from HQ), being briefed by Capt Conkey. Peter was there as well and he was also carrying an army radio.

  The patrol headed off, sparking envy in Graham. He badly wanted to lead a patrol against ‘the enemy’ to earn glory. Peter did not go but instead moved the radio under a shelter near the officer’s fire. He was joined there by Sgt Gayney and Cpl Forman, the black-haired girl who was the Intelligence Corporal.

  The cadets were all told to have another drink and then moved over to near the shelter. Capt Conkey then briefed them, explaining that the shelter was the ‘Command Post’ or CP. He then talked them through the procedure the unit would follow in case of a serious accident or snake bite. Lt Maclaren acted as Duty Officer and followed a check list to assemble a First Aid party with all the things they needed while, at the same time, informing all the people who needed to know, such as the army commander in the camp, the OC, the driver of the safety vehicle, and the Charters Towers ambulance. The First Aid party then headed off into the bush to collect th
e Cpl Storeman, Brookes, who was pretending to be injured.

  At the end of the demo Capt Conkey reminded all of them on what to do in an emergency, then sent them back to their platoon areas for a short break. Sgt Grenfell made them all drink again, after which CUO Masters led the platoon off along the track to Scrubby Creek past 4 Platoon’s bivouac area.

  The last lesson of the day was to be on stalking and movement. Once again the corporals were to teach it. Graham led his section a hundred paces further on, going down into a shallow dip towards Scrubby Creek. The other sections also spread out and training was commenced. Graham stood the section in a line in the shade.

  “This lesson is on movement,” he said, “On the various ways you can creep and crawl when you are stalking the enemy.”

  Andrews guffawed and said to Roger, “You’ll be good at that.”

  “Good at what?” Roger asked.

  “Crawling!”

  “Get knotted Andrews!” Roger retorted, anger mottling his face.

  Graham glared at Andrews. “Be quiet so we can get on with the lesson,” he snapped. He then proceeded to explain when they would need to use such fieldcraft. To conclude he said, “There is to be an exercise against other cadet units later in the camp and stalking will be an important part of it.”

  Again Andrews guffawed, but this time he turned to Dianne and said, “Storking! You’ll like that Williams.”

  It took Dianne a few moments to get the crude innuendo. Then her temper flared and she moved to slap Andrews. “Keep your filthy comments to yourself!” she cried angrily.

  “That’s enough! Andrews, apologise to her,” Graham ordered.

  Lucy then interrupted, “And to me! I was offended too!”

  Graham nodded and insisted. With bad grace Andrews mumbled an apology. It wasn’t much but Graham felt he could not push the issue and was worrying that he was losing control of his lesson. He could see CUO Masters and Sgt Grenfell standing on top of the slope a hundred paces away and became anxious they might be able to see this.

  To get the lesson moving he demonstrated and explained ‘The Walk’, then got them all to practise this. That went easily enough and he began to recover his confidence. Then he went on to show them how to do a ‘Monkey Run’. This did not work as well because the cadets were reluctant to get down.

  “The sand is hot!” Lucy complained.

  “It’s only your hands and knees!” Graham cried in exasperation. “Have a go for a few seconds.”

  Reluctantly they did this. Then Graham got down to demonstrate the ‘Leopard Crawl’. The sand was hot, he had to admit, but he kept on with it. Dusting his hands he stood up. “OK, your go. Get down and do that,” he said.

  Again there were mumbles and complaints but Graham insisted. The only one who wouldn’t get down was Halyday. “Get down Cadet Halyday. It’s not that hot,” Graham ordered.

  Halyday looked askance at Roger and Pat, both of whom were down on their stomachs. “I don’t want to get dirty,” he muttered.

  Graham was astonished. “What rot! Surely you expected to do this sort of thing when you joined the army cadets?”

  Halyday shook his head. “No. I thought there’d be a lot of drill, marching and stuff, but I didn’t think I’d have to crawl around like an animal.”

  Graham shook his head in amazement and struggled to think of a policy that might work. In the end he said, “Either get down and practice or go up to CUO Masters and tell him you want a transfer from this section.”

  Halyday glanced to where CUO Masters stood, gave Graham a sulky look, then very reluctantly knelt down and lowered himself onto his stomach. Graham heaved a silent sigh of relief and talked them through the actions. As the cadets stood up at the end of their practise Halyday made a big show of wrinkling his nose with distaste and of brushing off the sand and dust. As they were all sweating heavily in the heat there was plenty of this stuck to their skin.

  Getting Halyday down to practice the ‘Hunger or Kitten’ crawl was even harder. After more threats Graham managed to get him down but he hardly moved at all when he was. Exasperated and bemused Graham moved the section to a nearby dry creek bed. This was only a metre or so wide and was little more than a knee deep rill.

  “The next part of the lesson is about selecting lines of advance when you are stalking,” he said. “This is where you need a good eye for ground. You need to be able to pick out ‘dead ground’ and ‘covered routes’.”

  “What sort of roots?” Andrews asked with a snicker.

  The double meaning at once annoyed and embarrassed Graham. His eyes briefly met Kirsty’s and it was obvious she was thinking the same thing, and wasn’t shocked. He hastily looked away. The dilemma of how to cope with this caused him a momentary fluster. ‘Do I just ignore it, or make a big deal of it?’ he wondered. He decided to pretend he had not understood the double entendre. “Covered routes Cadet Andrews,” he grated. “It means a..a.. (he groped for some other word than route).. a way of getting from one place to another under cover and without being seen by the enemy.”

  He then quickly went on to talk about how to read the ground and got them to consider how they would move across the area. The half hour was almost up by then and he found that he was both very thirsty and again needed a pee.

  “Sit in the shade and have a drink,” he ordered. Then he looked around, wondering where to go. Up the slope to his right seemed to be the closest and best so he walked quickly that way. Behind him the section sprawled on the ground and broke into chatter. Knowing that they all guessed what he was going to do made Graham feel very self-conscious and he felt himself to be walking in a jerky, awkward manner.

  Thankfully he reached the crest and went out of sight. The track to Scrubby Creek and the North Gravel Scrape ran along there and he paused on it to look around. No other sections were visible so he quickly walked a few more paces and stopped beside a small tree. Before he started he had another careful look in all directions. Even though he knew the Hutchie Men should be many kilometres away he still had an irrational fear they would catch him. Seeing nobody he did a pee. As he finished he again looked around. There was still no sign of any one close but he saw that 5 Section was a couple of hundred paces away. ‘They won’t see me from there,’ he thought. Then his gaze registered on two hats moving towards him up a gully about 50 metres away. As quickly as he could he turned away and zipped up his trousers. He began walking quickly back towards his section. As he did he glanced back and saw two cadets climb up out of the gully. With a shock he realised they were not just cadets but girl cadets!

  ‘Oh no! I hope they didn’t see me,’ he thought.

  CHAPTER 9

  STRUGGLE OF WILLS

  Graham was aghast. ‘It is Harriet Harris and Fiona Davies!’ he thought. Harriet was a tall, slender girl who was a corporal in 3 Platoon and Fiona was a Year 9 girl in her section. Shame and embarrassment scorched through him as he wondered what to do. ‘If they saw me and they complain I could be chucked out of the cadets!’ he thought. Vague notions of legal complications to do with indecent exposure and unpleasant thoughts about the police and courts and things like that almost paralysed him.

  To apologise seemed the best course so he turned and walked back towards them. As he did his mind raced and he stared at them in dismay. It was obvious from their camouflage that they were doing the same sort of fieldcraft training as his own section. His tongue then seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth.

  Fiona spoke first. “Hi Graham!” she called. “What are you doing here?”

  From her words and facial expression Graham decided that the girls had not seen him, but doubt and anxiety remained. “Going to the toilet,” he explained, his voice almost breaking with anxiety. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were there. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  Cpl Harris shrugged. “We didn’t see that. We aren’t offended. It’s OK,” she replied.

  Graham began to relax slightly. “Where is your section” he asked. />
  “Back around the bend in that gully. We have to find a place to hide and they are going to look for us. They will be along in a minute or so,” Cpl Harris explained.

  “I’ll get back to my section then and get out of your way,” Graham answered, feeling sure now that things would be alright. Then Harriet’s words sank in and the horrible thought came to him: what if her whole section was watching. He glanced anxiously down the gully and noted that he might have been seen. Hot with embarrassment he turned and walked away.

  Back with his own section he still flushed with shame and hoped they would not notice his embarrassment or hear about it. It was time to begin the last 30 minute lesson for the afternoon, which covered the same movements but adapted to night. Once again Graham had trouble getting Halyday to get down and he made the minimum effort, then stood and watched.

  Towards the end of the lesson Graham saw 6 Section training nearby and had the idea to try to creep up on them. He pointed them out to the section and then got down and urged them to follow him. To his annoyance Halyday only half got down and then just sat in the grass on the bank of the small gully. Graham led the others down the gully until they were close to Stephen’s section, then suddenly jumped up and yelled, “Bang! Bang!Gotcha!”

  Stephen quickly rallied his section and the two groups had a short, high-spirited pretend battle that ended in laughter. Graham ended up standing next to a grinning and laughing Stephen who stopped to wipe his glasses clean. “Bloody glasses keep fogging up in the heat,” Stephen grumbled.

  “Oh any excuse!” Graham cried. “We caught you then.”

  Stephen put his glasses back on and then pointed down the gully. “Look, here come some of Four Platoon. Let’s ambush them.”

  Graham looked and saw figures appearing on the edge of the trees along Scrubby Creek. Ordinarily the idea would have appealed but the thought of provoking 4 Platoon made him feel anxious. However he did not dare let Stephen suspect this so he nodded and called on his section to get under cover and to follow him. At that point the small creek was about waist deep and had a sandy bed with bends every ten or twenty metres.

 

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