“How did you get it?” Kirsty asked.
Again Graham’s eyes met Stephen’s and this time a look of intense distress crossed his face. “In a knife fight,” Graham mumbled. He was assailed by sharp images of those moments of sheer terror on the dark mountain road above Cairns back in March. He had been stabbed and left to bleed to death by a man who had just cut the throat of a young boy. Only Stephen’s courageous night walk had saved him.
That led to further images, of how he and Stephen had marched all night to cross the Lamb Range then crept up to the paedophiles secret camp at a gravel quarry. More nightmare images came to him: of his own fear as he had tried to escape from the same man and of his terror while he scrambled desperately to escape from the front-end loader the man was driving. The memories threw into his consciousness the whole question of courage. ‘I was game to go with Stephen but I was really scared,’ he thought. Other images of fear and weakness came to shake his selfconfidence.
He gave Kirsty a brief account of how he got the wound, being helped by Stephen. Kirsty then said, “Show me your scar again.”
Stephen gave a smirk and said, “Are you sure it’s his scar you want to see?”
Kirsty poked her tongue at him. Roger frowned and shook his head warningly. Graham flamed with embarrassment. The situation was ended by the return of Gwen and Barbara.
“Bloody Yeldham,” Gwen said scathingly. “He was there and did nothing to stop that.”
“I think we should get out,” Roger suggested.
By common consent they made their way to the bank and collected their clothes. As they made their way up through the trees Graham glimpsed a very unhappy looking Sgt Yeldham wading towards Capt Conkey and Lt Standish.
The boys made their way off into the bushes to change. Graham put on a clean, dry uniform and felt much better. They made their way back to the platoon area to find that the incident was the main topic of conversation. The consensus was that Yeldham was a bully and a drongo.
Sgt Grenfell came along and told them to have their tea. He also said they could remain barefoot while in the trees. Graham sat on his pack and began cooking. Roger, Stephen, Gwen and Barbara all sat in a circle with him. Graham noted Kirsty looking for a place in the circle and hoped she wouldn’t try to push in. To his annoyance she did, right next to him. Roger grudgingly made room for her. Stephen smirked and Gwen and Barbara both gave him questioning looks. All Graham could do was try not to blush and pretend nothing had happened.
The fate of the bullies was still the main topic of conversation. As the friends talked they cooked and ate the tinned rations, using their hexamine stoves. Kirsty kept whispering to Graham, which annoyed him as the others were obviously aware of it.
“I enjoyed that swim,” she said.
“Yes,” he replied unhelpfully.
“When are we going swimming on our own?”
That got Graham’s attention. ‘She really does want to go swimming with me,’ he thought. The thought of Kirsty nude caused his heart rate to shoot up and he began to fantasize. “During the holidays after camp I suppose,” he said. Then he shook his head. “Oh! No. Sorry. I can’t do that. I am going hiking with Peter, Stephen and Roger.”
“Oh poo! I would be more fun than them,” Kirsty said with a pout. “Where are you going?”
‘You would be too!’ Graham thought, but alarm bells were ringing. ‘She is under age; jail bait,’ he warned himself. ‘Stay out of the water if it is too deep, or too hot, or full of bloody sharks!’ He took a deep breath and replied, “A place called Stannary Hills. It’s in the mountains west of Herberton.”
“What are you going there for?” she asked.
They were actually going to do research on the old mining railways so they could build more of their own model railway layout. However Graham did not want Kirsty to think he was a little boy who still played with trains so he said, “To look at the old mines and ghost towns.”
“Ghost towns! Oooh! Tell me more,” Kirsty cried.
As Graham described the outline history of Stannary Hills and what they hoped to find he saw a very chastened looking Sgt Yeldham rejoin 3 Platoon. Bragg appeared with Lt Standish. It was obvious he had been weeping and still looked upset. CUO Masters and CUO Mitrovitch came along with an angry looking Capt Conkey and they stood with Bragg while he collected his gear. Then they walked on towards 2 Platoon.
“Hello, what gives?” Stephen murmured.
Capt Conkey and Lt Standish stopped to talk to CUO Mitrovitch, who looked most unhappy. CUO Masters walked on with Bragg. Sgt Grenfell went to meet them. After a few minutes talk, during which they glanced several times in Graham’s direction, they continued on. As they got closer Graham hoped that he was wrong. He hoped that it was Gwen or Stephen they were making for.
It wasn’t. Graham was called out. He stood up and moved to join the group. “Yes sir?”
“Cadet Bragg is now in your section. He has been given a hard time so look after him,” CUO Masters explained.
“Yes sir,” Graham replied. He met Bragg’s eyes and managed a smile, but he wasn’t amused. Bragg was a Year 8 with a reputation for being both cheeky and very dumb. His one saving attribute, so it was said around the school, was his good looking sister in Year 10. Having no choice Graham led Bragg around to the other side of the circle and moved his own gear back to make space for him between him and Kirsty.
She pouted at that but said nothing. Tea was resumed. Graham tried to relax and enjoy himself. The setting of the bivouac he relished: the shady trees, clean sand, cool breeze and evening shadows. The field cooking he always enjoyed. Also he was with his friends and knew he had just been paid a huge compliment by having Cadet Bragg added to his section. He decided that he was enjoying the camp and hoped he was doing well enough to be selected for sergeant. The only real worry was that it was getting dark and he was getting signals from Kirsty which indicated that she was going to mount another attack on his will power during the night.
CHAPTER 25
ON THE SAND
When he had eaten his dinner Graham stood up and made his way through the screen of bent over trees to the water. There he was alone, even though a hundred others were within metres of him. He crouched to wash his mess tins and to scour them with sand. Having done that he rinsed his face and sat back on the sand to study the sunset.
“This is a really great place!” he murmured. “It is beautiful.”
For several minutes he just sat and soaked up the atmosphere of serenity. Overhead the sky was still blue but off to the west it was a great swathe of orange, melding into red. The flood-twisted paperbarks held a ruddy tinge for a few minutes before succumbing to the lengthening evening shadows. A gentle, cool breeze ruffled the water and brought with it the scent of eucalypts and she oaks.
Graham felt the tension easing out of him. He breathed deeply and felt very content. Several ducks flew by with a whirr of wings and a couple of pelicans drifted down on the current. In the distance some cockatoos screeched. Silence settled, or at least relative silence, with the mutter and chatter of a hundred or so cadets.
“Graham?”
It was Kirsty. She stepped around a tree and moved to sit beside him. “Are you alright?”
Graham nodded. “Yes, just enjoying the sunset,” he replied.
She sat quietly for a minute then said, “Are you mad at me?”
“A bit.”
“Why?”
“You know why. I want to do well in cadets. I want to get to be a sergeant. Breaking my promise to be with you isn’t helping,” he said.
“Don’t you like me?” she asked.
That exasperated him. “Yes I do! I’ve told you that. But our relationship, whatever it is, must wait till after camp.”
She remained silent after that but he could tell she wasn’t convinced. He opened his mouth to try to reason with her but Sgt Grenfell spoke from just behind them. “What are you two doing?” he asked.
“Watching the su
nset sergeant,” Graham replied.
As it was now twilight and the sky had changed to indigo and dark blue. Sgt Grenfell replied in a voice heavy with sarcasm, “Well, as long as you aren’t just talking! Now come back and join the others.”
Flushing with indignation at not being believed, Graham stood up and made his way back through the trees. Kirsty followed. They were greeted by the welcome flicker of a fire. Half the platoon sat around it. Others sat in small groups off in the shadows. Graham found his pack and webbing and placed them beside Stephen to one side of the fire. He found it very pleasant to walk around in bare feet, the movement of the dry sand between his toes having a massaging effect after so many days encased in army boots.
After unrolling his sleeping bag Graham sat down on it and leaned back on his pack. Roger came and sat on his other side and Bragg sat next to him. Kirsty seated herself opposite, next to Lucy and Barbara. In the firelight her eyes glistened and for a moment he thought she might be crying. That she was watching him was obvious and he felt quite uncomfortable because of it.
The topic of conversation was the extra duties Pigsy and Co had been awarded. They had been set to digging another latrine and carrying full jerry cans down and empty ones up.
“What happened to Yeldham?” Graham asked Stephen.
Stephen made a face. “He got a real tongue lashing from Capt Conkey but I think that is all. I suspect that Capt Conkey doesn’t know the full story.”
“No, I’ll bet he doesn’t,” Graham replied. But he felt very sorry for Bragg. ‘The poor kid is pathetic. He obviously has some real problems.’ With a shrug he dismissed the topic and turned to listen to Andrews trying to tell a joke.
The presence of CUO Masters at the fire kept the jokes within the bounds of decency and the ‘threat’ of Kirsty kept Graham at the fire. Even when his friends got up and wandered off to visit other platoons Graham stayed there. He lay back and pretended to sleep but in realty his mind was working fast. What exasperated him was that when he tried to think up a strategy to get Kirsty to ease off till after camp, he kept having memories that roused his passions.
Stephen and Roger returned half an hour later. Graham sat up and found Bragg lying close beside him. ‘Like a bloody pet dog that’s been whipped!’ he thought. Then he modified his contempt to compassion. ‘Poor little bugger!’
Stephen sat down. “I went looking for Pete. Couldn’t find him,” he explained.
“He’s away on a recon patrol for tomorrow’s big exercise,” Graham answered. Curiosity and envy both stirred in him at the idea of Peter being away from the unit overnight. It was so unusual and such a mark of trust that it made him sure that Peter must have been selected to be a sergeant next year. ‘And he deserves it,’ he decided.
“What is this exercise, do you know?” Stephen asked.
Graham shook his head. “No idea, but it must be a good one.” He was now starting to look forward to the exercise and hoped the section would do well.
The friends speculated what the exercise might be about for a while then joined in some singing. Graham noted with relief that Kirsty and her friends had gone and he was able to relax and enjoy himself. She came back half an hour later and made a point of pushing in to sit beside him. Stephen moved aside to make room for her and gave Graham a knowing smirk which irritated him intensely.
Over the next hour Kirsty moved closer until she was touching Graham. Then she leaned on him put her head on his shoulder. Her right hand ended up on his thigh. He was caught by surprise and so had no time to object or shift. As he wondered if he should move, or ask her to stop it, he had to admit it felt nice. He also found himself becoming aroused.
What bothered him most was that others were watching, including Gwen and Barbara. They didn’t say anything but Graham could tell by the way their eyes moved that they were aware of what was going on. ‘Damn! She will get me into trouble,’ he thought.
And she did.
Capt Conkey came out of the darkness and said hello while he looked around. Graham saw his eyes settle on Kirsty, then a frown form on his face. “You had better stop that,” he said. It was said mildly but to Graham it was like a thunderclap. ‘Oh you bloody weak fool!’ he castigated himself. ‘Why weren’t you strong enough to make her stop it?
Kirsty sat up with a sulky look on her face. Graham sighed with frustration and relief and Gwen shook her head and gave him an ‘I-toldyou-so’ look. Capt Conkey chatted away to the others as though nothing had happened but he ignored Graham and Kirsty after that.
When he had gone Gwen stood up and said, “Half an hour to bedtime. All you girls move your bedding over to this side of the area.”
There was some rebellious muttering but the girls did what they were told. Graham gave Gwen a thankful look for that and moved to straighten his own bedding out. As part of his preparation he scooped out a hip-hole and then lay down and squirmed until he had formed a body shape in the sand. Then he lay down and stretched out, luxuriating in the comfort and bare feet.
Gwen took the girls away to the toilet as a group. Kirsty looked rebellious and sulky but went with her, but only after flashing Graham a ‘significant’ look. Graham sat up and had a drink, noted that Bragg was lying between him and Roger, then lay back and composed himself to sleep.
In this he was soon successful. The long days and nights had tired him out and the evening around the fire had relaxed him so that he slid into a deep, trouble-free sleep.
* * *
Several times during the night Graham stirred almost to wakefulness. He became conscious enough to note that it was getting chilly, so he struggled into his sleeping bag. He also noted the soft gurgle of the river and shivering rustle of the leaves. The fire had died down to a mound of glowing embers and he was aware that it was one of those situations he would remember with pleasure for the rest of his life.
* * *
The next time he woke it was with the insistent need to do a pee. He sat up, tugged on his boots and stumped out onto the sand in the darkness. When he was well away from the camp he stopped and relieved himself. Afterwards he stood and stared up at the millions of stars and breathed deeply the cool, moist night air. With a feeling of great inner peace he walked back towards the sleeping cadets.
As he made his way in among the lines of trees, light and movement along at HQ attracted his attention. He saw that Capt Conkey was awake, as were a signaller and three people in bulky yowie suits. ‘The Hutchie Men. I wonder where they are off to at this time of morning?’ Graham thought. A glance at his watch told him it was just coming up to 0500. Settling himself on his bed he watched as the Hutchie Men did a radio check. Then they flitted away from the HQ fire into the darkness.
‘Something for the big exercise perhaps?’ he wondered. Or was it just a security precaution to make sure Heatley didn’t get their revenge with a surprise attack at dawn? For a minute or two he speculated on where Peter’s patrol might be, and what it was they were doing a reconnaissance of. He decided it must be a fair way away to require an overnight patrol.
He lay back and snuggled into his sleeping bag but found he could not sleep. Instead he pondered the problem of Kirsty. While thinking about her he became very aroused and frustrated. With all the people around he could not ease the problem and he did not feel like going out into the night again, particularly with the Hutchie Men and heaven only knew what other patrols on the prowl!
At 0545 CSM Cleland came along and quietly woke Sgt Grenfell. Graham pretended to be asleep. At 0600 the cadets were roused and called out onto the sand for check parade. It was just cold enough for Graham to wish he had a pullover on but he was too lazy to dig it out of his pack. Instead he opted for shivering, knowing it would warm up quickly enough when the sun rose.
The first person he really noted was Kirsty. She gave him several anxious and wistful looks and then stood and hugged herself as she also shivered. That got Graham worried as he could not tell what she was thinking. It also annoyed him. ‘I w
ish she would ease up for while,’ he thought. He knew that the big exercise was scheduled to start that afternoon and he had a feeling that it could be important to him.
‘I really need to do well if I am to retrieve myself in Capt Conkey’s estimation,’ he decided.
Morning routine was the most relaxed and pleasant so far. Bedding was rolled up and they sat on their packs or on the sand and did their cooking, eating and shaving. To Graham’s surprise the river water was warmer than the air and he felt wonderfully refreshed after shaving with warm water from his mess tins, then washing in the river. Kirsty left him alone and only gave him a few looks.
‘Good!’ he thought. ‘She might be getting the message at last!’
The only unpleasant episode during the morning was when Graham encountered Pigsy and Waters at the latrine. He was doing his morning crap, with Stephen and Roger standing guard while waiting their turn, when he heard them arrive.
“Who’s using the latrine?” Pigsy asked.
“Graham,” Stephen replied.
“Huh!” Pigsy retorted. Then he called out, “Hey Kirk! Make sure you put your hat on before you come back so we know which shit is which!”
Graham flushed with embarrassment and tensed, feeling very vulnerable. However Pigsy and Waters wandered on along the flood channel to dig their own holes and he was left to finish in peace.
After packing up, the company was paraded on the sand. Capt Conkey spoke to them and he seemed to be in a good mood. He particularly thanked them for their good behaviour during the night. Then he had them moved to sit in the shade. As they sat down Graham noted that Kirsty had moved back to near Roger and that Bragg was the one to sit directly behind him.
For the next hour the company did walk-through/talk-through platoon attack practices. These were carried out on the sand dunes and among the trees a few hundred metres upstream. Each platoon took turns, with the others sitting watching. HQ provided the ‘enemy’. During the first practice Graham’s section was one of the two ‘assault’ sections and he enjoyed that, even though they were specifically forbidden to do any of the actual fighting skills. In his own mind he could picture himself taking part in a desperate attack against impossible odds in some real war.
The Cadet Corporal Page 26