‘This is our chance,’ he thought. There was now no-one between him and the lantern. He rose to his hands and knees and gestured to Kirsty and Roger to follow. Quickly but quietly he crawled quickly up the slope, his head swivelling to keep track of CUO Masters, and also of CUO Grey and CUO Mitrovitch, who were again approaching from the right. But they were now past them. Over on Graham’s left were Halyday and Andrews. They also crawled quickly forward.
At 2115 they stood up near the light. Graham was surprised to find Capt Conkey standing behind it controlling a dozen cadets who had already arrived and were seated in the darkness beyond. “Who is that?” Capt Conkey asked.
“Cpl Kirk, and Four Section sir,” Graham replied.
Capt Conkey shone his torch on them all and then grunted with approval, “Good. Sit over there.” His torch showed where. Graham walked past the lantern with a real feeling of achievement. As he told the others to sit he said, “Very well done Four Section. Well done Cadet Halyday.”
He then sat at the front of the group and talked about the exercise. What he really wanted to know was whether Pigsy and Co had caught Halyday and Andrews. “It was you chucking rocks at them wasn’t it?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Andrews replied. “We wanted to get them back for teasing us.”
“Did they catch you or see you?”
“No fear! We ran faster than them,” Andrews replied.
As they talked Graham was uncomfortably aware that he needed to do another pee. A check of his watch showed five minutes to go. ‘If I don’t go now I might not get a chance for a while,’ he thought. Without saying anything he stood up and walked back past the waiting cadets into the darkness. After twenty paces he turned and headed down the ridge towards the highway, his eyes questing for a good piece of cover. Finding a big ironbark he stopped close to it and looked carefully in all directions. ‘I don’t want to get sprung by Pigsy and his slimy mates- or by any of the girls,’ he thought.
Satisfied no-one was near he relieved himself. All the while he glanced anxiously in all directions, not wishing to be caught again.
As Graham walked back to the lantern CSM Cleland began bellowing that the exercise was over and that they were all to move to the lantern. He hurried back and, in the resulting commotion, sat without anyone noticing.
Once CSM Cleland had checked they were all present and Capt Conkey had debriefed them they were sent back to their platoon areas. This was only a hundred paces for 2 Platoon. They still had 30 minutes to bed and Graham wondered if he should light his stove and heat some water for coffee. It was the third night of camp and he was feeling very tired. He also felt very dirty.
Nor was he the only one. Dianne came and asked if she could have a wash.
Graham shook his head doubtfully. “We are having a shower at the army camp tomorrow.”
“But I’ve got sand and dirt everywhere!” Dianne wailed.
“Then get a washbasin from the Q,” Graham replied.
“Good idea. Come on Lucy, Kirsty,” Dianne replied.
“Be quick. You have to be in bed in twenty minutes,” Graham called after the three girls. As they walked away he thought about that. ‘A quick wash would be nice,’ he thought. What was really on his mind was the knowledge that he was really sweaty and chafed between his thighs and the armpits. ‘I don’t want to stink if Kirsty gives me a kiss,’ he thought. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking like that but he was aroused with desire and hope.
With that he strode off after them and arrived at the Q area just as they were trying to pick up a jerry can of water. “It’s too heavy!” Lucy wailed.
“I’ll carry it for you, if one of you will carry a wash basin for me,” Graham said.
“Oooh! Are you going to have a bath too?” Kirsty asked, her voice alive with interest.
Graham picked up the jerry can and laughed. “Just a little wash,” he replied.
“You can’t bath with us,” Lucy said.
“Why not? It’s dark,” Graham teased.
The girls squealed and Dianne snapped, “You cannot!”
“I was only joking,” Graham replied. It was on the tip of his tongue to say other things he thought witty and sexy but managed to stop himself. Instead he carried the jerry can down past the platoon area towards the female latrine. When he was fifty paces past the last hutchie he put it down and retreated back to his hutchie feeling very aroused and with his mind full of delicious fantasies about the girls.
At his hutchie he unrolled his bedding and sat down to unlace his boots. Roger was already lying down. The two friends talked for a while, mostly about Pigsy and his mates and what to do about them. As they talked Graham heard occasional girlish laughter and he imagined the girls washing themselves.
The next thing he knew Sgt Grenfell was calling to the girls to get to bed. When they told him they had no clothes on he sent Gwen Copeland to round them up. Graham pulled his boots on and stood up to ensure that the others were in bed. They were, so Graham went and stood with Sgt Grenfell and explained that he had allowed the girls to have a wash. Sgt Grenfell grumbled but nodded so Graham said he would like a few minutes to have a quick rinse himself.
“After all your cadets are in bed,” Sgt Grenfell replied. He went off to quieten Stephen’s section. They were all laughing at some joke. A few minutes later the girls came back with Gwen. They had lugged the now almost empty jerry can back.
“Get to bed,” Graham ordered. He then stood and supervised as they crawled into their hutchies. Kirsty sat down under her half hutchie and pulled off her boots then looked at him in the starlight. That got him wondering and anxious. ‘Is she hinting she wants a kiss?’ Now he wished he had washed as he was sure he stank. After a glance to check that no-one was near he walked over to her, hoping at the same time Roger wasn’t listening.
With beating heart he bent down. “I am just going to have a quick wash,” he whispered.
He could see Kirsty’s eyes glistening in the starlight. She nodded and she whispered back, “I could scrub your back. Would you like that?”
That got Graham’s mind racing with erotic hopes and fantasies but he shook his head. “I’d love you to but Sgt Grenfell or CSM Cleland might catch us. So no.”
Graham knew he shouldn’t be talking like this but he was now very aroused and the prospect of even a little cuddle with Kirsty was something he badly wanted. He crawled back into his own hutchie to get his toilet gear and towel. Roger was awake and caused him some anxiety by asking, “What was all that about?”
“Just Kirsty flirting,” Graham replied offhandedly.
“You be careful,” Roger warned.
“I will be,” Graham replied. “I’m just going to have a quick wash.” With that he stood up. As he collected the washbasin and jerry can Graham looked towards Kirsty and saw she was now lying down. She was looking his way and for a moment he was tempted to go over and make more suggestive comments.
He resisted this and walked down into the gully twenty five metres away. By now he was breathing fast and was very aroused. He stood behind some bushes where he could see whether anyone was coming and from where he was sure no-one could see him. There was no sign of anyone so he quickly stripped off. That felt very nice and he gripped himself and groaned with frustration.
After pouring some water into the basin he crouched and quickly splashed water on his skin and soaped himself. By this time the camp had settled down and he was very conscious of the water noises so he tried to wash as silently as possible. The sting of the soap on his chafe helped calm him but he was still gripped by lust and temptation. After washing he cleaned his teeth, just in case.
When he was finished washing Graham pulled on his trousers, tugged on his boots, then loosely pulled his shirt on. Slinging the towel over his shoulders he picked up the washbasin and jerry can and walked back up the slope. He dearly wanted to go to Kirsty’s hutchie and he was sure she was still awake watching but he first went to his own hutchie and crawled in.
For another ten minutes he lay there fantasizing and trying to pluck up the courage. At last he sat up and crawled to the end of the hutchie. He tried to do it silently but made some noise. Kirsty moved and he saw her face swivel in his direction. In the starlight he could see she was smiling. ‘Come on coward,’ he told himself. He knew he would be taking a fearful risk but was now driven by urgent desire. After taking a deep breath he crawled out and stood up.
For a minute he stood looking in all directions and listening. The loudest noise seemed to be his own heart and he knew he was fearfully aroused and being stupid. His skin seemed to flush hot and cold and he had trouble steadying his breathing. Licking lips which had gone dry from fear and lust he stepped quietly over to Kirsty’s shelter.
She looked up as he reached her and he saw she was smiling. He knelt, again licking his lips. Then fear and caution gripped his mind. After a false start he managed to get out a hoarse whisper. “You should be asleep.”
Kirsty smiled and nodded. “I know, but I am wide awake.”
Graham knelt there in the starlight and battled with temptation. Through his mind raced all the fantasies and all the fears of what could go wrong if he gave in. He stared at her and a great shuddering tremor wracked his body. ‘No. I must not give in,’ he told himself. With an effort he said, “It is late. We had better try to sleep.”
Kirsty grunted and did not reply. Graham was confused and knew he was scared. To end the situation he said, “See you in the morning.”
She was disappointed. Even in the dark he could tell that. But she just nodded and lay down. Graham stood and walked back to his hutchie. As he did he was torn by both desire and shame. ‘Am I really a coward?’ he agonized as he crawled into his shelter.
For the next hour he lay engulfed by passion, regret and doubt, waves of heat sweeping over him. He was so aroused he could not sleep. Feverish fantasies kept him awake and aroused until he at last slid into a deep sleep.
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“Wake up Cpl Kirk,” Sgt Grenfell called. Through a muzz of sleep Graham heard him. He opened his eyes but everything was dark. Then he realised it was cold, wet plastic he could feel. He groped and shook his head to clear his thoughts. ‘Hutchie must have fallen down,’ he thought. As it was deliberately tied up with slip knots he knew that was quite possible. Still half asleep he struggled to push the hutchie away from his face. Next to him Roger also began squirming and groaning.
Suddenly the hutchie was dragged aside. Graham saw it was light and Sgt Grenfell was the person doing it. Then a look of astonishment crossed Sgt Grenfell’s face and he shook his head. “You’d better get up and clean up,” he said.
“What? What do you mean?” Graham asked, his mind still groping to wake up. Then he looked at Roger as he sat up and the reason became clear. Roger’s face was covered with some sort of black slime. ‘Mongrels!’ he thought angrily. ‘We’ve been greased!’
CHAPTER 12
FRICTION
As Graham rolled over to stand up he saw Roger looking at him from his sleeping bag. Roger’s face registered astonishment and then, amusement. “You should see your face,” Roger said.
“You should see your own!” Graham retorted. He could see Sgt Grenfell grinning and that annoyed him. It was just getting light and the rest of the platoon were still in bed. Obviously CSM Cleland had just roused Sgt Grenfell so he could get ready early for check parade and he had seen the hutchie down. “Bloody Pigsy!” Graham added.
“We don’t know that for certain,” Roger said, sitting up and wiping his face. He grimaced with disgust at the smear of black slime that came off onto his fingers.
“Oh, who else would it be?” Graham cried as he tugged on his socks.
Sgt Grenfell answered that. “Pigsy isn’t the only person who doesn’t like you.”
That was a hurtful comment but Graham could not dispute the truth of it. What really burned was the idea that anyone would not like him as he thought he was a good person. Sgt Grenfell said, “Anyway, get cleaned up. Check parade is in five minutes.”
Graham pulled on his boots and stood up to look for the washbasin and jerrycan he had left nearby the night before. Picking up the jerry can he poured water into the washbasin and then moved to dig his soap out of his webbing. As he did Kirsty snuffled and stretched, then moved her head and opened her eyes. She turned to look in his direction. For a moment her eyes met Graham’s and he saw puzzlement, then amusement, cross her face.
“What happened?” she asked, sitting up.
“Someone greased us,” Graham replied gruffly. He did not enjoy being humiliated.
Kirsty giggled but then saw his expression and shook her head. “Sorry, but it does look funny.”
“Humpf!” grunted Graham. He splashed water on his face and began to soap it. Roger moved to join him. A couple of minute’s vigorous rubbing made some improvement but the mixture was boot polish and toothpaste and would not yield easily. By looking at Roger’s face Graham could check on his own. He shook his head angrily, his eyes noting the smears of black on his sleeping bag and clothing. By using his towel he made a better job of it.
By then Sgt Grenfell was calling out for the platoon to get out for check parade. Graham rinsed his face again and began rubbing hard. As soon as he was satisfied he had the worst of the greasing off he turned and strode over to hurry Halyday and Andrews as both were still apparently in bed. Sgt Grenfell’s angry shouts then hurried them all to get on parade. Check Parade led to more irritation. As 2 Platoon marched across past 1 Platoon there were snickers and grins and someone distinctly said the word ‘greased’.
‘How do they now?’ Graham wondered. He was sure his face was now reasonably clean. Doubts about who might have been the perpetrators began.
The doubts were reinforced at breakfast when Graham was standing at the condiments table spreading lemon spread on his bread. Cpl Brown sidled up beside him and hissed, “Bugger you Kirk, you mongrel! You got me in trouble with Capt Conkey.”
“How did I do that?” Graham asked, genuinely surprised.
“By dobbing about bloody Carnes,” Brown replied.
Then it became clear. Carnes was in Brown’s section. “So what happened to him?” Graham asked.
“The useless little turd has been moved to headquarters platoon,” Brown replied, “and bloody good riddance. If you give me any more grief I will snot you, so keep clear!”
The threat annoyed Graham but he thought it was just bluster so he shrugged and went on smoothing the spread on his bread. Brown stalked off and Graham walked back to the platoon eating area feeling aggrieved and upset. ‘I didn’t mean to get the bugger in trouble,’ he thought with annoyance. ‘Anyway, he should have stopped the bullying.’
He sat down and was even more relieved when Kirsty came and sat beside him, sitting close enough for her knee to touch his. For the next twenty minutes he ate and happily flirted with Kirsty, sending her ‘meaningful’ messages with his eyes- until he noted CUO Masters looking thoughtfully at them. ‘Uh oh! I hope he doesn’t suspect anything,’ Graham thought. ‘I’d better be more careful.’
Later Graham washed up, then made a point of walking back to his hutchie with Roger. The friends then re-erected their hutchie- the work of minutes- and set about cleaning up for morning inspection. When he had as much ready as he could Graham decided to quickly visit the toilet. It then occurred to him that choosing which latrine to use had now become a high stress decision. So which latrine: the one near 3 Platoon or the one
near 4 Platoon? The 4 Platoon latrine was closer and it was more open. Berating himself for being a coward he marched over to it.
To his relief there was no-one else there and he saw that Pigsy and Co were standing near their hutchies. But they saw him and Pigsy jeered and called, “Jerk! Hear you got greased. Do you good, you crawler.”
Graham ignored him and strode back towards his own platoon. On the way he went between HQ and 1 Platoon. At HQ he found Peter. Next to him was Carnes. Both were busy putting on camouflage.
“What are you doing?” Graham asked Peter.
“We are setting up an OP down near the highway just in case that mob from Townsville try to send any recon patrols over to spy on us,” Peter replied.
That sounded like a good idea to Graham and he nodded. He then looked at Carnes. “How are you Cadet Carnes?”
Carnes scowled. “Rotten. I just want to go home.”
“Oh well, the camp is half over,” Graham replied. “Keep hanging in there.”
No wanting to become involved in a debate he said he had to get ready for inspection, which was true anyway, and hurried off, wishing Peter good luck as he did. As he walked towards his own platoon Graham was suddenly struck by a stone.
It was so unexpected and hurt so much that he stopped and then spun round. ‘Brown. For sure!’ he thought, seeing Brown’s face with malicious satisfaction written all over it. Brown was about thirty paces away, standing beside his hutchie, but Graham was positive he had thrown the stone. As anger flared he strode over, to stop two paces from him, clenched fists on hips.
“Don’t throw stones at me Brown,” he grated.
Brown glared back. “Or what, big man?”
“Or I’ll flatten you,” Graham replied.
“Oh yeah? You ain’t good enough. You’re all talk, you gutless sniveller,” Brown retorted.
The words really stung. ‘Is that what people think I really am, a coward and a crawler?’ Graham wondered. But now his pride was badly hurt and he put up his fists. “Anytime buster,” he challenged.
The Cadet Corporal Page 12