The Cadet Corporal

by Christopher Cummings

  Capt Conkey called the platoon to come back. By then he was busy on the radio directing the HQ OP to move to watch the way the intruders had been last seen. The platoon walked slowly back, most talking rapidly with excitement and discussing the incident. Not so Graham. He walked in a sick fog of apprehension wondering what story to tell. ‘I will have to lie to protect Kirsty,’ he thought miserably.

  But he was spared that. Capt Conkey was taken up with directing the Hutchie Men to try to intercept their opposite numbers and appeared to have forgotten about him and Kirsty. Perspiring from effort and anxiety Graham sat in the shade and had a big drink. Kirsty moved to sit with him but he gave her a shake of the head and she nodded and sat well away from him. Minutes dragged by and still Capt Conkey did not come and ask what they had been doing. He seemed to be engrossed in directing the patrols.

  The fieldcraft exercise went on. The last of HQ went down the gully, a reluctant Carnes, then CUO Masters. Graham was next as the section commanders were to go first and 2ics last. He found it a relief of sorts to move into the gully out of sight of Capt Conkey, but that was tempered by anxiety about how he might fare at the hands of 4 Platoon.

  He soon found out.

  The first problem was a trip wire, which he spotted, then four dummy land mines. Ahead on the right was a clump of rocks that looked like a probable sniper position, and it was. Cpl Bannister suddenly shouted, “Bang! Gotya Kirk! Ha ha!”

  Graham had been expecting it but was too slow. That hurt his pride and he blushed with shame and gritted his teeth with determination to beat the next one. He did. It was Cadet Norris and he was easy to spot and too slow.

  Feeling better Graham crept on down the dry gully, which was getting slowly deeper all the time. Another trip wire was avoided and he kept switching his gaze from side to side, then ahead. He found it stressful but enjoyable, until a rock came hurtling out of a side gully he had already looked up and started to pass. The rock struck him a glancing blow on the right side and went skittering off.

  Graham dived for cover and saw Moynihan’s grinning face. “Bang!” he shouted. Moynihan just jeered back. “Ya drongo Kirk! I just blew you up with a grenade.”

  Graham knew that Moynihan was well aware that unit standing safety orders banned throwing things. Equally he knew it was pointless to say anything. ‘I wouldn’t be able to prove it,’ he thought.

  Angered and even more on guard he moved on, crouched and ready. Somewhere ahead were Waters and Pigsy and he expected worse from them. He got it. First he negotiated a trip wire at a fallen tree, then spotted movement up on the bank to his left. He dashed for cover and pretended to fire up the side gully. It was Waters and Graham’s move caught him off-guard.

  “Bang!” Graham shouted, then, “Ouch!”

  A rock had slammed into the small of his back. As he spun round he saw Pigsy with his arm raised to toss another stone. Graham was able to dodge this but then Waters threw one from the other side and it struck him a painful blow on the hip. Anxious that his eyes did not get injured Graham shouted back and dived into the creek bed out of sight.

  “Stop it you buggers!” he shouted.

  “Don’t call me a bugger Kirk!” Pigsy yelled. He ran down and threw another stone This struck Graham on the webbing. Waters also threw more but kept back. One of these grazed Graham’s cheek. “Stop throwing stones you bloody idiots!” he shouted. He realised that trying to take cover in the creek bed had just made him more of a target. Fear and anger both forced his adrenaline to surge.

  Without really thinking about it he sprang up and charged at Pigsy. Pigsy threw the stone he had in his hand, which struck Graham a glancing blow on the shoulder, then bent to pick up another. By then Graham was very close so Pigsy gave that up and straightened up. For a fleeting second fear flitted across his face and he ran back a few paces. Pigsy then stopped and raised his fists. Waters meanwhile had thrown two more stones, one of which hit Graham on the back.

  Ignoring Waters Graham confronted Pigsy. “Stop it Pigsy or I’ll smash you to pulp!” he shouted angrily.

  “You ain’t good enough!” Pigsy replied with a sneer but Graham thought he detected anxiety in the bully’s eyes. ‘He’s all bluff and bluster,’ he thought. He stepped closer and raised his fists.

  At that moment Lt Hamilton’s voice cut across his consciousness. “What’s going on here?”

  Graham turned his head and saw Lt Hamilton and Lt Standish on top of the bank. He pointed at Pigsy and said, “Sir, they are throwing stones at me!”

  “We are not sir!” Pigsy called back, his voice all injured innocence. “He threw stones at us.”

  The blatant lie left Graham speechless for a second, then his anger flared. “Oh you bloody liar Pigsy!” he shouted.

  “That will do!” Lt Hamilton ordered. “Cpl Kirk, just get on with the exercise.”

  “But sir! They hit me and it hurt!” Graham cried, the injustice of it inflaming his temper.

  “Don’t you back answer me or argue Cpl Kirk!” Lt Hamilton shouted in reply.

  With an effort Graham bit back a sharp retort and stood to attention, chest heaving and close to tears. ‘You drongo!’ he berated himself. ‘Arguing with the officers is no way to get promoted.’ He took several deep breaths. “Yes sir. Sorry sir,” he said. With that he turned and walked on down the gully. What really stung was seeing what he thought was a glint of malicious glee in Pigsy’s eye. ‘Mongrel! I’ll get him,’ he told himself.

  The remainder of the course was simple after that, merely a test of skill. Graham was so stirred up that he seemed to have unnaturally heightened perception and was able to detect every single incident in time to react. He was particularly pleased to find that Capt Conkey was watching at the point where the fence crossed the gully. Graham went under the fence half way up the bank and managed to avoid some mines and another lurking cadet.

  On reaching the junction of the two creeks Graham was directed by CUO Grey to go back up the other creek. By now he was really enjoying himself, despite the heat. He battled his way up and again managed to detect all but one of the hidden opponents in time. The second creek he liked even better.

  ‘That was fun!’ he thought as he reached the head of the gully at the Sandy Ridge track near 1 Platoon’s bivouac. He then sat in the shade of the big ironbark where he had found Carnes and waited till the rest of his section arrived. Kirsty was the first to arrive but CUO Masters was also there with Sgt White so there was no chance to talk privately. This was just as well as Capt Conkey and Lt Maclaren arrived soon after and stood talking.

  Roger was last to arrive and Graham could tell he was upset. “What’s wrong,” he asked, although he had a good idea what the problem might be.

  This was confirmed when Roger replied, “Bloody Pigsy and his mates. They teased me and threw rocks.”

  “Me too,” Graham answered. Roger did not say what the bullies had called him but Graham could guess. “Do you want to complain?” he asked.

  “What would be the use? It would be my word against theirs,” Roger replied with an unhappy shrug.

  The friends left it at that and changed the subject but Graham knew that he really should be taking some sort of action to help his friend. ‘Maybe I am a coward?’ he wondered.

  CHAPTER 14

  ‘DON’T DROP THE SOAP !’

  As the platoon walked back to their bivouac area Graham saw that he had another problem. Even from a hundred metres away he could see that his hutchie was down and that gear was strewn around. ‘Bloody Pigsy!’ he thought, then felt a flush of shame as he knew he had no proof and that it could just as easily have been Brown.

  Sgt Grenfell halted the platoon near their hutchies and looked first at the downed hutchie, then at Graham and Roger. “You had better get that cleaned up quickly,” he said. “We want to be moving in fifteen minutes. We don’t want to be last through the shower and miss out on the hot water.”

  Graham shook his head and gritted his teeth as a spasm of
intense anger seized him. “If I knew who did this I’d pulp him!” he muttered.

  Roger was more philosophical and just shrugged, then gestured towards the camouflaged CP at HQ. “They might have seen something.”

  That sent Graham striding over to the CP. Inside were two girls: Cpl Forman and LCPL O’Brien. Both looked surprised and shook their heads. “No. Sorry. Didn’t see anyone there, not in the last hour,” Cpl Forman replied. She looked sympathetic and Graham believed her. For a minute he stood there gripped by anger, grinding his teeth and looking around for clues. However he was also acutely aware he did not have time to waste so he strode back to his hutchie and set to work scooping up his scattered clothing and tossing it into his kit bag.

  By then Sgt Grenfell was calling on them to line up in their sections. Muttering swear words Graham snatched up his laundry bag, stuffed a clean uniform, underwear and socks into it, then shook his towel to flick off as much dust and grass as he could and added it to the bundle. Then he began to chivvy the others to hurry.

  “Come on! Hurry up! One Platoon is already lining up,” he called to Andrews and Halyday. They kept digging in their kitbags till Graham wanted to scream at them but they at last came out and stood in line. For once 4 Section was not last. One of Stephen’s cadets held them up. By then 1 Platoon had begun moving but CUO Masters arrived, pack on back, and said, “Follow me.”

  He led the platoon in single file down across the head of the gully near the officer’s hutchies while 1 Platoon took the longer route around along the track. That gave 2 Platoon a 50 metre lead. By cracking on the pace they maintained this down through the South Gravel Scrape. By then the highway was clearly visible. So was their destination, the army camp. The roofs of the large store sheds stuck up above the sea of gum trees, visible for many kilometres.

  The fence along the highway increased their lead over 1 Platoon by another 50 paces because CUO Masters ordered each section to use a different panel and to roll under the bottom strand of the barbed wire while 1 Platoon all climbed through a single point where their CUO and sergeant held two wires apart. By then 4 Platoon and HQ could both be seen heading down the slope through the gravel scrape.

  It was 1630 when the platoon crossed the highway near the turn-off to the army camp, the whole platoon at once in extended line. They then reformed in single file and marched along the side road. This led across the railway and into the camp. By then all were sweating and some of the smaller cadets were complaining of blisters and sore muscles. It was very hot and Graham badly wanted a drink.

  As they marched up the approach road to the boom gate at the entrance to the camp Lt Hamilton went past in his Land Rover. From the back grinning faces of members of HQ teased the marching cadets. “Mob of bludgers! How come they get to ride in the rover?” Andrews grumbled.

  “Because they have to work in the kitchen,” Graham replied. He was now feeling happier. The army camp was one place he liked. The ten days he had spent there the previous December had been one of the watershed events in his life and he knew it. The Corporals Course had been very demanding, physically, emotionally and intellectually, and he was proud to have survived and passed. From 0600 in the morning till 2130 at night they had been on the go; 13 periods of lessons, parades, inspections and being assessed.

  The camp itself was spread over nearly a kilometre of bush on a wide, flat ridge. It dated from World War 2 and was now only used for storage. A bitumen road wound its way along the crest of the ridge through the trees and buildings. The buildings were widely scattered, most being 50 to 100m apart. Some were now gone and only concrete slabs and drains marked their former locations. The trees were mostly ironbarks and were also widely scattered, the short grass under them giving a park-like appearance.

  Two houses for regular army staff flanked the entrance gate. There was then a small wooden Guard House with a front veranda. The civilian caretaker leaned on the railings of this and grinned as they trudged past. A dozen large steel sheds were scattered well back on either side of the road. As the road curved slowly left it passed two more sheds on the left, then a truly massive ‘igloo’ style shed on their right. Bitumen roads went along each side of this shed and even through the huge double doors near each end. A railway line ran through the far end of the shed.

  As he marched past the big shed Graham gave a wry smile, remembering a foolish prank which he and Stephen had indulged in and which had nearly had them chucked off the course. On a dare they had climbed right up over the shed. It had turned out to be a real test of courage as the shed was very much higher than it looked and the only grip on the downslope had been the heads of the nails holding on the sheets of corrugated iron. ‘Silly buggers we were,’ he thought, shaking his head at the memory.

  Beyond the shed were more memories, but of a different type of stress. It was in the limited shade of the straggly ironbarks there that he had taught his first lessons to a squad. The main road ran straight for 200m to more buildings. On the way it passed a grass parade ground which lay between the road and railway, then a huge concrete slab which had once been the base of a second giant shed. It had been burned down by a disgruntled soldier, or so Graham had been told by one of the storemen.

  On the far side of this were a small lawn with two trees on it, two small wooden buildings, a circular ‘ring road’ around a tennis court and ablution block. Three other buildings and a water tower and treatment works completed the camp. The buildings were the kitchen and dining areas and accommodation huts. When Graham had been here on his course there had been rows and rows of tents and hundreds of cadets and staff. It all now seemed very quiet and deserted.

  A couple of vehicles were parked near the kitchen and only a few people were visible. However the sight of one group of people caused a murmur of annoyance. Seated in a line were four Cairns cadets in camouflage suits. Standing around them were half a dozen strange cadets, who were obviously guarding them.

  “Looks like one of our patrols has been captured,” Graham commented to CUO Masters.

  “Yes, by Heatley,” CUO Masters replied. “The OC won’t be very happy with that.”

  Graham now saw that the four Cairns cadets were from 4 Platoon: Cpl ‘Dimbo’ Doyle, LCpl Laidley and Cadets Shearer and Duncan.

  As 2 Platoon passed the first small building a Land Rover came from behind and they moved off the road to let it past. It was Capt Conkey with CSM Cleland and Lt McEwen. Capt Conkey parked the Land Rover and they got out. As he walked across to where the four prisoners sat on a low concrete wall beside a deep drain two officers came out of the other small building, their faces covered with grins.

  A tubby major called loudly, “These are yours I believe Cyril?”

  Capt Conkey grinned back and went to shake the major’s hand. Graham could not tell if he was annoyed or not but the sight of the gloating Heatley cadet’s faces certainly irritated him. However he had no time to worry about it as CSM Cleland called to them and led them across onto the lawn beyond the tennis courts and ablution block. They were allocated an area and told to get through the shower a quickly as possible.

  It was a real relief to stop marching and to slump down on the grass. Graham sat and began unlacing his boots. “Boots off and thongs on,” he ordered. He knew how things had to be organized to get a large number through a shower in a short time.

  Dianne pointed to the small corrugated iron building. “What is that place?”

  “The showers,” Graham replied. “

  Where do we go?” she asked.

  “In the showers I suppose,” he replied. He meant to say after the boys had finished but Stephen now piped up.

  “We all go in together, and there are no partitions. This is an old fashioned army shower with just a row of six shower roses set in the wall.”

  At that Lucy blanched and stared at the building in horror. “Oh we do not!” she cried.

  “Yes we do, all together,” Stephen insisted.

  Kirsty met Graham’s eye. “Do
we really?” she asked. She looked both excited and anxious.

  Impishly Graham nodded. “Yes, why not?”

  “That’s right,” Stephen added. “Anyway, as my mum says: If you haven’t seen it, it is educational; and if you have it doesn’t matter!”

  “Well I’m not going in!” Lucy cried in a shrill voice.

  Gwen now called out, “You stop teasing the girls Stephen Bell! You girls do not go in there. We go over to that building and we have individual showers there.” Gwen pointed to the first accommodation building where Lt McEwen stood on the veranda. She was talking to a strange female lieutenant.

  “Oh spoil sport!” Stephen replied with a laugh.

  Lucy poked her tongue at him and she and Dianne scooped up their clothes and towels and headed after Gwen. Kirsty leaned over close to Graham and whispered, “It would have been really interesting.”

  That got him speculating and as she walked after the others he could not help fantasizing about that. To his dismay he began to get aroused. ‘Damn! Not now!’ he thought. That was the last thing he wanted as he was going to have to shower naked with his male cadets and he didn’t want any teasing. ‘Blast Kirsty!’ he thought as he lined up at the door under Sgt Grenfell’s direction.

  By then 1 Platoon and 4 Platoon had also arrived and seated themselves on the area of lawn allocated to each. CSM Cleland called to Sgt Grenfell to get 2 Platoon moving through the shower- 2 minutes per person.

  “In you go,” Sgt Grenfell ordered.

  Feeling very anxious and shy Graham led the way in, followed by Stephen and Roger. The other male cadets began filing in. A queue formed, leading back out the door. As Graham knew, there were only six showers, then a long wooden bench, a plywood partition and beyond that a urinal and row of toilet cubicles. As he tossed his gear onto the wooden bench he felt very stressed and he deliberately took his time undressing.

  By the time he had Stephen, and Halyday, Andrews and ‘Thomo’ Thomson had all stripped off and were adjusting the water flow. Roger was rather self-consciously undressing and Graham was left with the shower nearest the door. Half the platoon stood there staring in at him. That got him really anxious. He had often swum naked on hikes with Stephen, Roger and Peter, and even with little Margaret, but to strip in front of his subordinates was a new and embarrassing experience.