The Cadet Corporal

by Christopher Cummings

  He gave Kirsty another kiss and then whispered, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Don’t you like it?” Kirsty asked.

  “I love it, but I promised Capt Conkey I’d behave. And we are on patrol. We are the outpost keeping the company safe.”

  Kirsty shrugged and gave him an odd look but then nodded. Graham took his arms from around her, sighing with regret as he did. Feeling quite unsure and self-conscious Graham eased himself away from her. Kirsty turned her head to give him a hurt look.

  As she did Graham stared out across the creek. A movement caught his eye, the merest flicker in the shadows. Enemy! He stared hard and saw a dark shape that could only be a person move from one clump of bushes to another. The enemy group was at least a hundred metres away and were crossing his left front heading towards the shed. He gripped Kirsty’s arm and pointed.

  The sound of leaves rustling penetrated Graham’s consciousness. Just in time he took his hand away from Kirsty’s arm as Pat came over. Kirsty was still beside him but now moved slightly away. Graham felt shame begin to burn through him. Pat appeared not to notice anything unusual. “Someone moving out on the flat to the East,” he whispered.

  Graham nodded. “I know. I’ve been watching them,” he replied. As he did the distinct sound of a stick snapping came to them on the still night air. Murmuring voices could then be heard from the enemy patrol. Next Graham glimpsed another black figure flit from tree to tree about a hundred metres away. For the next minute he watched, gauging their direction of movement. As he did he moved further away from Kirsty and into a crouch.

  “They are going to go past us,” he whispered. He calculated they would pass about 100 metres to their north. “Come on. If we are quick we can cut them off.”

  He strode over to Halyday, trying not to make any noise as he did. Pat and Kirsty both followed. With a gesture to follow him Graham went past Halyday and slithered down into the dry creek bed. The others followed.

  Down in the narrow, sandy creek bed Graham knew they were out of sight of the enemy so he broke into a run, hoping they wouldn’t hear the thudding of their boots or webbing. The creek ran straight for about 50 paces, then curved left and then right and then left again before running straight for another ten metres. At that point an old road to the North Gravel Scrape crossed it, the actual road being washed away. The creek bank was chest high and steep enough to be an awkward climb.

  By then Graham was panting for breath, the running on the soft sand having been harder than he expected. The others halted beside him, also puffing and gasping. A mist of fine dust, stirred up by their boots, enveloped them and tickled at Graham’s throat. As he struggled to stop himself coughing or sneezing he strained his eyes in the darkness, afraid that the run might have been heard.

  Then, only 20 paces away, appeared a person. He came out of the clumps of lantana up on the bank and went to cross the clear lane of the old road only ten paces in front of the patrol. Immediately behind the leader appeared four more cadets, all bunched closely together. For a frozen second Graham stood there staring at them. Fear of doing the wrong thing combined with fear of starting a battle and of being beaten.

  By then there were six enemy and the first was almost at the top of the creek bank about 15 paces to Graham’s left front. ‘I must open fire,’ he thought in a near panic, knowing that his group could just crouch there safely and not be seen. ‘But if we let them past they might find the company position,’ he thought unhappily. The realization that the whole reason for his patrol being there was to contact enemy patrols made his mind up.

  With beating heart he screamed at the top of his voice, “Open fire! Bang! Bang!”

  The other members of his patrol joined in immediately. By then Graham was running along the creek bed to intercept the enemy leader. The effect was astonishing. The enemy cadets stopped, then scattered. A couple fired back. One went to ground and two ran back the way they had come. The enemy leader saw Graham coming and fled, running off along the old road as fast as he could go.

  “After them!” Graham shouted, scrambling up out of the creek bed. That decided the other enemy. They took to their heels as well. The one who had taken cover sprang up and ran. He was almost grabbed by Halyday but managed to get away. After twenty paces Graham called on his patrol to stop. The enemy went on running, scattering off across the flat.

  Graham stood with chest heaving, exhilarated by the ease of their victory. In the distance he heard the enemy calling to each other as they tried to regroup.

  “Nearly had a prisoner then,” Halyday grumbled. He was dancing with excitement.

  “Just as well you didn’t catch one,” Graham replied. “We don’t need a prisoner to clutter us up right now.”

  As he spoke he looked around to check that there were no more enemy. It occurred to him that the patrol might be only the vanguard of a whole company. ‘We can’t see much from down here in the creek,’ he thought. The notion that he had somehow abandoned his post made him blush with shame. Hoping the others had not noticed his indecision he said, “We’d better get back in position.”

  “Won’t they know where we are?” Pat asked.

  “They will know we are somewhere here but not our exact position,” Graham replied. He set off back along the top of the bank. As he did he used his radio to call Coy HQ. Capt Conkey answered and Graham gave him a quick summary of what had happened. “The enemy have withdrawn to the east, over,” he concluded.

  Capt Conkey replied, “Well done. Stay in position, over.”

  Knowing that every CUO and section commander must have heard that made Graham glow with pride. Smiling with satisfaction he kept on moving, his eyes and ears alert for more enemy. The others followed and three minutes later they were back in their original position. After a big drink of water Graham stood and looked carefully in all directions before sitting down.

  Kirsty sat beside him but he shook his head. “We’d better behave,” he whispered.

  Kirsty pouted but nodded.

  Time began to drag slowly. Once Graham thought he heard sounds across the Canning Road in the area they had crossed when getting into position but he saw nothing. However his suspicions were confirmed five minutes later when a burst of yelling came from up the hill behind them. “Sounds like our vehicles just got annihilated,” he murmured.

  “They will find the company then,” Pat added.

  As if to confirm this there was more yelling and banging up the hill, but muffled and further away. Graham thought that was either Stephen’s section or the section of 3 Platoon between the knoll and the North-South fence.

  Kirsty looked anxious and whispered, “Are there enemy behind us?”

  “Yes,” Graham replied.

  “But we might get cut off and be captured,” she said anxiously.

  Graham felt a spasm of fear at that idea but then shook his head and grinned. “Or they are the ones who might be cut off and trapped,” he replied.

  Kirsty looked doubtful but Graham suddenly felt confident and he knew he was starting to enjoy the experience of leading a patrol. They settled down to watch.

  The next action however came from down the creek the other side of the fence. A spirited mock battle raged for five minutes somewhere near where the two creeks joined below the North Gravel Pit. Obviously the enemy had run into the patrol from 1 Platoon.

  “They are probably the same mob of enemy who ran into us,” Pat suggested.

  Graham agreed. He now stood and focused on different directions for a minute at a time. He also checked the time. They were due to be relieved by 5 Section at 2100 and he saw with surprise that it was already 2035. A feeling of regret made him realise that now he was out on patrol and had actually met the enemy that he was really enjoying himself. ‘I wish we could stay out longer,’ he thought.

  His desire for more ‘action’ was soon gratified. Ten minutes later a group of seven enemy came along the dry creek bed from the direction of Sandy Ridge. Graham saw t
hem coming when they were still a hundred metres away. In the starlight they looked like black figure targets as they were silhouetted against the pale sand. By the time they reached the bend in the creek he had the other members of the patrol spread across thirty metres of front.

  At his shout they opened fire. This group of enemy were more alert and much better led. They deployed and pretended to return fire. Then they made several attempts to advance. That got Graham very ‘heart-in-mouth’ anxious and for few moments he contemplated retreating. Then his stubborn pride helped him to decide to stay. He shouted encouragement and kept moving rapidly from side to side to try to confuse the enemy as to his intentions and numbers. After a while the enemy pulled back, then turned and went west across the Canning Road near the turn-off.

  Graham contemplated following them but reluctantly decided he must stay where he was. ‘They will get behind us now,’ he thought.

  They did. From time to time he heard them moving in the dip and then on the rocky slope. ‘I hope Gwen doesn’t run into them,’ he thought. To warn her he sent a radio report to Coy HQ informing them of the strength and direction of enemy movement. “Warn Patrol Two Three,” he added.

  As he said this a battle erupted across the road behind him. There was a lot of yelling and banging and running around for a few minutes. Then Gwen came on the radio to report to Coy HQ that her section had ambushed an enemy patrol that was now withdrawing South West. She also warned Graham that her patrol was now moving to his location. Voices and boots moving towards his position indicated to Graham that there were people coming from behind him. Graham thought it was Gwen’s patrol but just to be sure he had his patrol redeploy to face back towards Black Knoll and he tensed as dark figures flitted across the road. But it was Gwen’s patrol. She called softly and Graham went to meet her.

  “Did you get ambushed?” he asked.

  “No fear! We heard your warning. Thanks. We hid and really caught them,” Gwen replied happily.

  “All yours then,” Graham replied. “We will get back.”

  “Quickly please. We have only half a platoon holding our part of the front and I think there is another enemy patrol up there somewhere,” Gwen replied.

  Just as she said this the sound of distant shouts and screams came from the other direction, from Sandy Ridge. The cadets crouched, tense and ready. Then deep “Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!” bellows told them what was happening. Graham grinned “That’s the Hutchie Men attacking Heatley’s new patrol base,” he said.

  This was confirmed by more yells of fear, among which sounded the quavering shriek, “Hutchie Men!”

  At that the waiting cadets burst into laughter. The two corporals had to angrily hiss for silence. Gwen nudged Graham. “Go on, get back up the hill. Our side of the company is only held by Steve’s section and two half sections.”

  “That’s if they are awake,” added Pat.

  Graham collected his cadets and regretfully set off home. They crossed the Canning Road and headed across the dip and up the rocky slope near the fence. As they went Graham kept every sense alert.

  It was just as well he did as he heard the chink of rock on rock and then glimpsed movement against the stars. He went to ground and the others did likewise. From his right rear came a group moving up the hill following the fence. ‘Is that 1 Platoon’s patrol or the enemy?’ he wondered.

  CHAPTER 21

  CHALLENGES IN THE NIGHT

  Graham lowered himself down till he lay flat on the stony ground. By doing so he was able to skyline the dark figures ahead of him. He also found his hands and knees hurting from the sharp rocks and pickles. But he barely noticed the discomfort. By now his heart was hammering hard with anxiety and excitement.

  ‘Definitely not ours,’ he decided, noting the way the figures kept stopping to stare up the slope. It took an effort of willpower, but Graham made himself wait till the rival patrol began moving before rising to his feet. He signalled his own patrol to follow and carefully moved one foot at a time. In doing so he and the others dislodged a few stones but luckily the other people were making so much noise themselves they evidently did not hear them.

  There was the barbed wire fence to negotiate and Graham slithered under this, heedless of scratches and prickles. The others muttered a few grumbles but followed his example. Within a minute he had them on their feet advancing side by side up the slope. By then the enemy patrol had almost vanished from sight. Graham began to fret that he had moved too slowly and that they would get away.

  ‘They will reach the company position if we don’t catch them,’ he thought anxiously. The desire to avoid being seen as a failure by the OC now spurred him to act. The Heatley patrol had vanished over the crest near the vehicles, angling to their right. That would take them away from the vehicles and across the top of the re-entrant. To Graham’s dismay he found he could no longer see them. He stopped and listened.

  The faint chink of rock on rock gave him the direction and he waved his patrol forward. Then he was concerned to find that the Heatley patrol was moving much faster than he had expected. They had drawn fifty metres ahead. Angry with himself for miscalculating he increased his pace.

  As the patrol went down to the lip of the re-entrant Graham was surprised by a voice hissing at him from close ahead.

  “Sssh! You are making too much noise,” it said.

  His heart thudding with the shock, Graham strained his eyes and saw a line of dark figures crouched behind trees and rocks only a few metres ahead. ‘Damn!’ he thought in dismay, ‘stuffed up again!’

  Then he heard the same voice ask, “Who’s that? Get down.”

  ‘They think we are part of their patrol,’ Graham thought. At almost the same instant he realised he had a fleeting chance, so he took it. “Bang!” he shouted.

  “Shit! Enemy!” yelled the startled Heatley patrol commander.

  To Graham’s relief his own cadets now joined in, running up on either side of him and yelling loudly. There was a minute’s confused screaming and scuttling and the surprised Heatley patrol scattered and ran off to the left. Graham led his patrol after them as far as the top of the saddle. He was so excited he was shouting at the top of his voice and could hear the echoes rolling out over the countryside.

  Halyday even ran over and grabbed one member of the other patrol as he scrambled under the North-South fence. The Heatley cadet squealed and struggled free. The remainder of the Heatley patrol now rallied as their leader recovered his wits. A banging match began for a minute. Graham wondered if he should try to push further. He even summoned the courage to dash forward to the fence. However he could now make out six figures in the other patrol and he knew he was outnumbered.

  To his relief the Heatley patrol kept pulling back into the head of the re-entrant on the west side of the saddle.

  “Cease fire! That will do!” he ordered. A wave of exultation surged through him and he stood for a minute revelling in it. The others stood beside him, talking excitedly and laughing. Then Graham realised that wasn’t very military. ‘We could get caught by surprise just as easily,’ he thought. “Stop talking! Silence!” he snapped.

  When the others had fallen silent he pointed across the saddle. “Let’s go home,” he whispered. They set off towards the clumps of rocks which were just visible in the starlight. As they did he made a radio report informing Coy HQ which way the enemy patrol had withdrawn and that they were coming in.

  A minute later a voice challenged quietly from the darkness, “Halt!”

  It was Stephen. He was at his sentry post at the base of the knoll. Graham gave the counter-sign for the password and then walked over to where Stephen and one of his cadets crouched behind the boulders.

  “You caught that mob a beauty,” Stephen commented in a hoarse whisper.

  “We’ve had a good night,” Graham replied. He was now glowing with the achievements of his patrol.

  Movement on the rocky path up beside the knoll attracted his attention. It was CUO Masters. He hiss
ed at them, “Cpl Bell, who is it?”

  “Cpl Kirk sir,” Stephen called softly back.

  “Send him up, and stop talking. That Heatley patrol is still out there and could come back.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Graham realised he had been sweating and now he shivered. He led his patrol up the rough path to meet CUO Masters then followed him around to where Coy HQ was. Capt Conkey and CSM Cleland sat behind their screen of sleeping bags. Graham reported he was back. Capt Conkey nodded, then said, “Deploy your people back in their defensive position, then come here and fill out a patrol report.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Graham led the others back over to where their packs were. He could just see a few dark bumps that indicated other members of the platoon and it reminded him of what Gwen had said. ‘We are a bit thin on the ground,’ he thought.

  Roger and Andrews were on sentry. Andrews looked up and grumbled, “About bloody time! Can I go to bed now?”

  “No. Not till your time on sentry is up,” Graham replied. “I will relieve you as soon as I have filled out my report.”

  The other patrol members had bunched up and Pat asked, “What do we do?”

  “Go to bed and get as much rest as you can. The exercise goes on till dawn and it could be a long, hard night.”

  “Long and hard eh? Is that a promise?” Kirsty commented.

  Graham blushed furiously and felt a surge of anger. “That will do Kirsty!” he hissed. Then he mentally kicked himself for not calling her Cadet Weldon. The snickers of the others did nothing to ease his embarrassment. ‘They must suspect we are doing things,’ he thought unhappily. “Stop talking and keep quiet,” he snapped, louder and more forcefully than he intended. “Now go to bed.”

  To avoid any further comments he made his way back up past platoon HQ to Coy HQ. As he did there was a sudden outburst of loud shouts and cries of ‘Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!’ from down at the bottom of the hill near where Graham had left Gwen’s patrol. ‘The Hutchie Men,’ he thought. ‘I hope they haven’t clashed with Gwen’s patrol.’