The Cadet Corporal

by Christopher Cummings

  The other St Michael’s cadet laughed and replied, “Him! He thinks he’s just too good. Let’s catch him.”

  Hearing such an unflattering description of himself caused Graham to burn. Knowing that his cadets had heard it as well made it even worse. But there was relief too. The two St Michael’s cadets went hurrying off down the track. ‘Now is our chance,’ Graham thought. He got up, waved Milson and Andrews to follow then walked quickly across the track.

  As he moved in under the thorn bushes near Halyday, Graham heard Bragg say loudly, “Is that you Cpl Kirk?”

  “Yes,” replied the St Michael’s cadet. Then there was a loud shout of ‘bang!’ and the St Michael’s cadet yelled, “Gotcha!”

  Bragg cried in fright. Graham shook his head and gestured Halyday to keep crawling. As they moved into the next thicket he heard the St Michael’s cadet ask Bragg, “Where is Cpl Kirk? Where is your patrol?”

  Graham tensed, ready to hear the worst, but Bragg replied, “I don’t know. I lost them back at some ruins near the highway.”

  Graham had the good grace to feel ashamed, and to upgrade his assessment of Bragg. He heard the two St Michael’s cadets questioning him as they brought him back up the vehicle track. By then Graham and the remnant of his patrol were twenty metres further on and had reached the other side of the clump of the thorn bushes. There was nothing ahead of them but bare ground and then the bridge.

  Graham lay in the grass under a thorn bush and strained his eyes in the darkness to study the situation. Directly in front of him was another dirt vehicle track leading steeply down the bank. Beyond it on his right front, underneath the actual bridge, was a level area of bare earth and short grass with a couple of small erosion rills leading off down the slope towards the next pylon. This was clearly visible and had at least two cadets standing guard at its base. Coming from beyond the bridge and passing underneath it, right against the concrete wall of the abutment, was another dirt road. This went past Graham’s right shoulder to where it joined the first dirt track on which Braggy was even now being questioned. Parked there was a Land Rover.

  From there the road turned left, to run off inland away from the river. ‘That is the road which comes down from the highway,’ Graham remembered. He carefully raised his head to check where the defenders were. There were four or five at the Land Rover and two at the gate where they could see along the road beside the embankment, but there did not seem to be any right in under the bridge.

  So what to do? Graham was strongly tempted to play the hero and just stroll nonchalantly across and place the bomb in position. ‘I could do it before they could stop me,’ he thought. Then he told himself that was childish. ‘That would only work if this was a suicide attack. In reality we would place the bomb and set a time delay fuse so we could get safely away.’ So, which was the best way to creep forward; and what to do if he was seen?

  While he was thinking this he could hear the St Michael’s officers questioning Bragg. They were only about ten metres away. There was also a radio crackling there. From the sound of the voices the defenders had high morale and thought they were winning. Then Graham saw movement in the shadows at the other side of the bridge. ‘There are two guards there,’ he noted. ‘A section, plus a HQ,’ he decided.

  Suddenly there was an outburst of yelling inland near the railway embankment. The interrogation of Bragg was ended and Graham heard an officer calling on a radio to Four Bravo, wanting to know what was going on. Graham deduced the battle must be either the Hutchie Men, or The Four. ‘Hutchie Men more likely,’ he told himself.

  The officer on the radio suddenly called, “Cpl Snodgrass, your sentry post at the bend has captured two Cairns cadets. They might be from the same section as this bloke and might be able to tell us where the rest of that section is. Take a cadet and go and bring the prisoners here, quickly.”

  ‘Snodgrass!’ Graham remembered: a tall, lanky, red-faced cadet who had been on the Corporals Course with him. Cpl Snodgrass said, “Yes sir! Come with me Cadet Pottinger. Let’s go.”

  Graham heard the thud of boots as the pair ran off along the dusty road. ‘There must be only four of five left,’ he thought. He began toying with the idea of a diversionary attack while the bomb was placed. That gave him a difficult choice. As the leader he wanted to play the hero and place the bomb but he also knew Capt Conkey was very strong on section commanders being with their troops when they did an attack. ‘Follow me!’ was how Capt Conkey had drummed into his corporals the right sort of leadership in a crisis.

  Graham wrestled with his desires, versus his duty, for a full minute, aware that he had only a short period of time to exploit the opportunity. Reluctantly he bent down next to Halyday. “Here, you take the bomb. I want you to crawl across to the wall there and plant it.”

  “Ok,” Halyday replied, obviously delighted.

  “There are guards at the other side there,” Graham cautioned.

  “I’ve seen ‘em,” Halyday replied. He began shrugging off his webbing.

  “We will cover you. If you are seen we will attack and you run over with the bomb,” Graham explained.

  Halyday nodded and grinned. Graham then said, “Have you got a felt pen to write on the wall?”

  Halyday dug one out of his map pocket and held it up. Graham smiled and said, “Off you go.”

  Halyday grinned again, then lowered himself flat. With only a faint rustle he slid out of the grass and onto the bare track. Graham moved into a crouch, ready to act, his heart now speeding up with anticipation and excitement. Halyday slid on, wriggling in a ‘hunger crawl’ on his stomach. He went across the bare earth beyond and looked to be only a black lumpy shape that slowly moved.

  An outburst of shouting down in the river bed near the next pylon made Graham jump he was so tensed. He could hear CUO Masters yelling and knew it was 2 Platoon. They were obviously having trouble reaching the pylon and Graham experienced a strong twinge of conscience for not joining in the battle to help them.

  His anxieties shot right up when the St Michael’s guards down at the next pylon started shouting for help. The people at the Land Rover also began calling out. Graham heard the officer say, “Quick Sergeant Burns, you and Carter move to cover their flank on the slope.”

  Two cadets came running from the Land Rover. They went past in front of Graham only two paces away, then spread out and went down the slope, almost stepping on Halyday as they did. Graham held his breath but saw that Halyday had flattened himself into a tiny washout. The two St Michael’s cadets began shouting, ‘bang! bang!’ as they joined in the battle at the bottom. Graham could just see them. They went about half way down the slope. He also saw the two guards at the other side of the bridge move across the road to the top of the bank. They also joined in, but did not go over the crest.

  Halyday raised his head, noted this, and began slithering forward, across the road and into the darkness right at the base of the wall. Someone down the slope was flashing a powerful torch about and its flickering light allowed Graham glimpses of Halyday as he inched across the road on his stomach.

  More St Michael’s defenders could be heard joining in the battle down in the river bed. It was obvious 2 Platoon had not made it and Graham felt quite guilty. He heard Stephen yelling for 6 Section to pull back and that twisted the knife in his conscience.

  But Halyday was there! He had rolled across flat against the base of the wall. In the darkness Graham could hardly see him. He was moving but only slightly. ‘Come on Halyday! Plant the bomb and get out of there,’ he urged silently. He began chewing his knuckles and fingernails.

  By then the battle down in the river bed was dying down. 2 Platoon was clearly withdrawing. Graham raised his head to watch the two St Michael’s cadets on the slope and was relieved to see that they had gone even further down and were joining in a loud, laughing conversation with the guards at the base of the pylon. They were gloating over their victory.

  Halyday was on his way back by this time.
He moved faster coming back, still crawling and hugging the shadows, but not being as careful. Graham held his breath with excitement and silently cheered and urged him on. He kept casting anxious glances at the two guards twenty metres further on but they were also still looking down the slope.

  Then Halyday was back. He was chuckling to himself and his eyes danced with excitement. Graham thrust his webbing into his hands and whispered, “Let’s get out of here!”

  Without waiting for Halyday he began crawling back the way they had come. Milson and Andrews were still lying under cover and they raised questioning eyes so Graham gave a ‘thumbs up’ and told them to follow. As he did he heard voices at the Land Rover. It was Cpl Snodgrass returning. The officer said to him, “Get Sergeant Burns back up here in case the section these prisoners came from try to sneak in.”

  Cpl Snodgrass came running past along the track behind Graham and he heard him calling down to the two. ‘Whew! Just in time!’ he thought.

  The hard thing now was not to hurry and thereby spoil things by making a noise. The raiding party had to creep back through the thicket within metres of the Land Rover to reach the first dirt track. They were helped in this by Pigsy and Waters. Graham identified their voices as they made cheeky and insulting answers to their captors. ‘I’ll have to apologise to them,’ Graham thought, while he silently congratulated himself on the success of his decoy plan.

  A minute later the patrol were all back across the first track and moving through the thicket of thorn bushes. Two minutes later they reached the power pylon. Here Graham stopped them to check they were still with him, and to have a drink. He found his throat was dry and his temperature high. The battle seemed to have died down right across the area and all Graham could now hear was the murmur of voices back at the Land Rover, and a few defenders calling out down in the river bed.

  By his watch Graham saw it was 2210. The cadets with him started to tell each other about what they had done. “Shut up!” Graham hissed. “We have to get away now. We still have to get back across the highway.”

  “Yeah, but we did it!” Halyday replied jubilantly.

  “What took you so long?” Graham asked.

  “I buried the bomb in the sand so they wouldn’t see it, then I wrote Four Section, Cairns, on the concrete with my felt pen,” Halyday replied.

  “Well done! You are a bloody great scout,” Graham told him.

  “Bloody great crawler alright,” Andrews added, his voice tinged with jealousy.

  “Quiet. Let’s go and collect Slim and Carnes,” Graham said.

  “I’d leave the useless bastard,” Andrews commented.

  “Shut up or you can go back on your own,” Graham threatened. He set off along the top of the bank, his eyes and ears still alert for defending patrols. ‘We will look silly if we just blunder into a patrol on the way home,’ he thought. What was really nagging at him was the problem of how to get back over the highway. That problem was brought home by the sounds of a series of battles ahead of them as the other raiding parties ran into lines of defenders at the highway bridge and up along the highway past Bare Ridge.

  Anxiety continued to grow in Graham’s chest. Now he was worrying about Carnes. However he found him sitting quietly with a very relieved Slim under the same thorn bush.

  “You OK Cadet Carnes? Do you need to go to the doctor or anything?” Graham asked.

  “I’m alright,” Carnes replied.

  “Bloody sook!” Andrews teased.

  “Shut up Cadet Andrews. Now, no talking. Let’s go back and find that radio,” Graham said. He led off along the fence, walking quickly now, but still alert. The others followed.

  Five minutes walking had them at the junction of a fence that went off west and obviously enclosed the patch of overgrown thorn scrub which contained the ruins of the meatworks. For simplicity of navigation to retrace his steps to find the radio Graham wanted to go back through that paddock, but concern over Carne’s having another fit about ghosts if he went past the ruins caused him to vary the route. This time they went left through the fence which ran along the top of the bank, then followed around the outside of the ruins along another fence, staying just back in the edge of the scrub.

  This brought them to the highway about a hundred metres up from where Graham thought they had crossed it on the way in. By then the night was quite silent, except for an occasional car. He stopped the patrol under cover and crept forward to the edge of the road to look. Lying on his stomach amid the grass and burrs, he strained his eyes and ears to try to locate the defenders.

  By this time he was becoming depressed as the exhilaration of reaching the bridge wore off. Not only did he still have to get back across the highway, but he had to find that radio. Then he had to get what was left of his patrol back to camp by midnight and that only gave him about one hour to move at least 3 kilometres. ‘Then I have to explain to Capt Conkey how I lost half my patrol,’ he thought unhappily.

  CHAPTER 32

  REPORT

  As Graham lay alone in the darkness depression began to grip him as he thought about how he would report to Capt Conkey. ‘Lost a radio sir. Lost half my patrol sir. What will he say?’ Graham agonized.

  After a couple of minutes of gloomy contemplation Graham stirred himself into activity. ‘Oh well, no point in putting it off. We had better get back,’ he told himself. The thought of adding to his problems by being late got him moving. He had been unable to detect any sound or sign of defenders so decided the best tactic was to line his section up and all cross at once, then depend on speed to get away from any pursuit. ‘Then we will have to try to dodge that patrol on the other side,’ he thought.

  He made his way back to where the patrol waited and quickly briefed them on what to do. Andrews then annoyed him by moaning, “I’ve got sore feet. Do we have to walk all the way back across that sand?”

  It was on the tip of Graham’s tongue to tell him that if that was how he felt he could walk down to the bridge and surrender but he bit the comment back. “Just get up and follow me quietly,” he hissed.

  Andrews muttered something about being tired and cold but he got up and began walking. Graham led them to the highway and personally spaced them out three paces apart along the fence and told them to crawl to the edge of the bitumen. This led to more grumbles about prickles but he was in such a bad mood that they obeyed.

  As Graham reached the verge of the highway he heard voices calling out a hundred metres or so up to his left. Quite clearly on the cool night air he heard a voice shout, “Sit down and shut up so we can count you!”

  ‘They are pulling in their guards or a patrol has returned and they are checking they haven’t lost anyone,’ he deduced. For a moment he was tempted to just wait till they were gone. A glance at his watch dispelled that idea. ‘We will be late if we don’t get a move on.’ A car was coming from his right. He hissed to the others to lie flat but risked a look as it came across the bridge. As he had expected there were still cadets standing on guard there.

  As the car went past Graham put his head up and used the vehicle’s headlights to show him if there were any defenders up the road. A group of cadets was illuminated at the bend a hundred metres away. ‘Now is the time to cross, while their eyes are dazzled,’ he thought.

  t that he stood up and called quietly, “Cross now. No running. Go!”

  To his relief the cadets on either side of him rose from the grass and padded quickly across the road. On the other side they waded through the long grass to the fence then crawled under. Andrews got snagged and did some swearing and grumbling till Graham snapped at him to shut up.

  Graham checked that Carnes was still with them then told them to wait.

  “Where are you going?” Andrews asked.

  “To give myself up to the enemy, what do you think!” Graham retorted.

  “You aren’t!” Andrews cried anxiously.

  “Oh shut up! Have some sense. I’m just going to find the radio you bloody drongo!�
�� Graham snapped. As soon as he said it he regretted it, knowing that he shouldn’t have called Andrews that but was now feeling very anxious and depressed. Guilt at all the mistakes he thought he had made had given him a very short temper.

  Leaving the others sitting in the grass behind the fence he hurried down towards the bridge, moving at a crouch. He was very worried about finding the radio, even though part of his mind told him it would be easy to locate in daylight. At that image he shook his head. ‘I don’t want that sort of humiliation. I’ve stuffed up too much as it is.’

  And there it was, just lying amid some trampled grass. With a shake of his head and a sigh of relief Graham scooped the radio up and hurried back to the others.

  “Did you find it?” Andrews asked as Graham handed the radio to Carnes.

  “No Ando, I snuck up and cut an enemy sentries throat and took his,” Graham retorted sarcastically. “Ok, let’s move.”

  Graham did not bother taking out his compass. He just walked north using his instinct for direction and the fall of the ground to guide him. Nor did he bother much with scouting, reasoning that any defending patrols would have been pulled back to the highway by this. ‘If we run into one we will just fight them,’ he thought. At that moment he felt in the mood for a fight. He angled across the slope until he found a cattle pad running the right way just up from the dark tangle of the Anabranches. It was easy enough going as the stars gave enough light to avoid the thorn bushes. Despite mumbles from Andrews, Graham had them back near the gate leading down to the Bunyip by 2310.

  He had only just noted the grey ribbons of the wheel ruts on his left when he heard a noise. It came from the left rear. Signalling urgently he got the others to crouch under cover. Moving behind a bush Graham peered up the vehicle track, then felt a thrill of anxiety. A dark figure was hurrying down it, almost at a run. That puzzled Graham. Just one person? He strained his eyes in the night but could not make out any others. The approaching person was a cadet. Even in the starlight his hat, camouflage uniform and webbing were visible.