The Cadet Sergeant Major

by Christopher Cummings

  Graham shook his head, wiped sweaty palms on his trousers and reluctantly tore his gaze away to peek over the creek bank instead. He watched Cpl Ward’s section crossing the flat fifty paces behind them. He had identified the section as Lofty’s at more than twice that distance because Lofty’s 2ic was LCpl Wendy ‘Wobbles’ Werribee. She had the most enormous bosom for a girl of 14 and these made her obvious from quite a distance. They also gave her the nickname. Now she was trotting along behind Lofty like a faithful puppy.

  ‘There is another worry,’ Graham thought. There had been a number of rumours about what Lofty and Wendy might have been up to.

  Satisfied that his patrol wouldn’t be seen by the First Years Graham led them on. The creek wound across a sandy flat which was bare and open except for a few large trees and a scattering of bushes. The creek had scoured a bed from the sand and the banks were so low they could no longer walk upright and stay hidden. He knew the area well from crossing it on the previous year’s annual camp when he had been a section commander.

  “We will have to crawl the next hundred metres or so,” he explained.

  “That’s OK,” Allison replied. She gave what Graham interpreted as a wicked grin and went back down on her hands and knees. So did LCpl Henning. Not so Cadet Denton. She moaned and grumbled before lowering her fat bulk grudgingly. ‘Bloody cow!’ Graham thought. ‘Why on earth did she join the army cadets?’

  They began crawling. It was easy enough on hands and knees but out in the open where there was no shade the sand was uncomfortably hot to the touch and they were soon perspiring. Graham kept glancing back frequently. Each time he was granted a glimpse of Allison’s breasts. ‘Oh that’s lovely!’ he thought. ‘And she knows I am looking.’ Then Cadet Denton caught his eye. ‘Ooh! Bloody Denton!’ he thought. “Keep your head down Cadet Denton,” he growled. ‘And your fat bum!’ he thought. ‘Must look like a bloody elephant from behind.’

  The creek became even shallower until they would need to crawl on their stomachs to stay below the banks. Graham considered this. ‘No, be a mug’s game,’ he decided. He raised his head behind a tuft of grass and looked carefully around. About a hundred metres to the right he spotted a Land Rover parked at the turn-off to Canning Junction. Lt Maclaren was sitting in it with his back to them.

  ‘He might see us in the rear vision mirror,’ Graham considered. Then he shook his head. ‘Too bad. We will take the risk. He won’t chase us.’ He said, “Come on, stand up and walk quickly.” They rose and trudged up the creek line. As he strode along Graham kept searching in all directions. By then they were approaching the lower end of the spurs which ran down from Sandy Ridge. Graham knew there were four or five small creeks and gullies which joined to form the creek they were in. These offered plenty of cover right up to Sandy Ridge.

  As they entered the area of low spurs the creek bed deepened again to waist deep, with higher ground on both sides. Graham slowed down, noting with annoyance that Cadet Denton had fallen fifty paces behind.

  Graham’s eyes detected movement over to his left front. He signalled to take cover and crouched in a washout. Allison squeezed in with him, pressing against him. He loved it but was a bit annoyed with her. He forced himself to ignore her while he watched the advancing cadets.

  They were a patrol of First Years. Their route led diagonally across the gullies a hundred paces upstream. ‘They are heading for Lt Maclaren’s checkpoint,’ he decided. ‘They won’t spot us.’

  The patrol crossed the creek and went over a low rise to their right. As soon as they were out of sight Graham stood up and continued walking.

  ‘Which creek?’ he puzzled as they came to a creek junction. He decided to go right. ‘If we go too far left we will end up at camp and there is a check-point there.’ This made him consider how they were to cross the open expanse of Sandy Ridge. He studied the map and concluded they should cross the Canning Road. ‘We should have crawled through that dip down from Lt Maclaren’s check-point,’ he thought. ‘Oh well, too late now. We will push on.’

  They angled up a small gully to the right. This led into a fairly dense stand of small trees which gave reasonable cover. To Graham’s annoyance the gully ended in a series of small washouts about fifty paces from the Canning Road. From the gullies to the road was almost bare: a few tufts of short grass, sandy soil and a few spindly trees.

  Graham rose, ready to walk quickly forward. As he did movement up to his left caught his eye. To his annoyance a section of First Years was tramping down the road. He went flat in a tiny erosion rill, conscious that most of his body was above ground level. Feeling very exposed he peered through the few stalks of grass.

  ‘Charlie Cox’s section,’ he noted. He hoped the others in his group were all under cover. But he did not dare move to look. To his relief the section just came trudging down the road, the cadets talking and not searching at all.

  Suddenly, from the creek line behind Graham there was a hullabaloo of shouting. “There they are! There they are!”

  ‘Blast!’ Graham thought. ‘Someone else has been seen.’

  Cpl Cox’s section halted and looked in the direction of the noise. ‘Big Charlie’ led them into the trees. Graham silently cursed. They were heading almost directly towards him! He pressed himself flat. Allison pressed hard against his right leg. The section moved past just to their right. Graham could see every detail and could not believe that none of them had seen him or the others in his group.

  One of Cpl Cox’s section, Cadet Hodgins, walked past only about five paces away, his eyes on the distant creek line. From this came more shouts of “There they go!” and “Stop, we’ve caught you!” Hodgins moved out of Graham’s vision but he did not move his head to look. Then he heard the footfalls stop just behind him. The rest of the section went trampling on down the slope.

  There was a liquid piddling sound. Graham swivelled his head to look. Hodgins stood only ten paces away facing them. He had pulled out his penis and was urinating. Graham saw that Allison and Marcia Denton were both watching. It made him all embarrassed. It was obvious that Hodgins had no idea they were there. Graham opened his mouth to tell him to stop but before he could speak Hodgins suddenly saw Denton.

  The look on Hodgins’ face was so comical that Allison and Henning both laughed aloud. Hodgins’ pee dried up and he stood holding himself, mouth agape.

  Then he covered himself and shouted. “Corporal Cox! Corporal Cox!”

  Graham stood up. “Put that thing away Hodgins!” he snapped.

  Hodgins goggled at him in astonishment then hastened to obey.

  “I’m sorry,” Graham apologized to the girls. He was deeply concerned that this could easily develop into a real incident if one of the girls complained.

  “It’s OK. Not your fault,” Allison replied with a grin. “Besides, the OC did warn us to watch out for snakes.”

  Graham had to smile at that. “Your mother should have warned you about that sort.”

  “She did,” Allison replied with a giggle. The sparkles in her eyes set Graham’s imagination flaring. For a moment he fantasized about being with Allison.

  Graham turned back to face an anxious looking Cadet Hodgins. “You should have gone to the latrine Cadet Hodgins,” he said.

  Hodgins looked amazed. “What! Walk all that way through the bush, just for a leak.”

  “Sir,” Graham added. But he had to agree so he said, “You should look more carefully and go in among some cover then. We don’t want any complaints,” he said. As he did he glanced at Allison and Cadet Denton. To his relief Allison shook her head.

  By then Cpl Cox’s section had come running back. They surrounded them and there was much laughter and chafing.

  “I flushed them out with my secret weapon,” Hodgins boasted, recovering his poise.

  “Secret weapon! Little Willy you mean,” sneered Denton.

  Hodgins blushed scarlet. “You’d know, you fat troll!”

  “That will do!” Graham snapped.
He wasn’t offended but he felt he had to maintain standards.

  Reluctantly he unbuttoned his shoulder strap and handed over a yellow epaulet to a jubilant Cpl Cox. The others did likewise. Graham’s pride was hurt at being caught. He had a drink and ordered the others to do likewise, then walked them across the road to continue the exercise.

  On the other side he led them diagonally down a slope away from the road. The others followed in single file, Allison close on his heels and the other two further back.

  “Sorry about Hodgins,” Graham again apologized to her.

  “That’s OK. We weren’t offended. He was just being a boy,” Allison replied cheerfully.

  Graham wasn’t quite sure how to handle this. Having that sort of conversation with a pretty girl was embarrassing. But it also got him speculating and he was tempted to make Allison a suggestion which might lead to her being alone with him.

  ‘As CSM I should have no difficulty in organizing things so that she and I could sneak away for an hour or two without anyone noticing,’ he mused. The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea. His mind began exploring various erotic fantasies. He was sure now that she was making a pass at him, just by her body language and eyes.

  The group crossed a small, dry gully and came to the open western slope of Bare Ridge. Graham halted amongst the last trees for a careful look. Allison stood so close to him that their arms touched. It was like an electric shock. He felt an almost overwhelming desire to put his arms around her. He found he was taking rapid shallow breaths.

  ‘Calm down, you silly fool,’ he told himself. ‘Think about it but don’t do it. Save it for after camp.’ Regretfully, he sternly repressed his urges and concentrated on the exercise. Denton and Parnell joined them and that helped.

  “What will we do now?” Parnell asked, indicating the kilometre long expanse of Bare Ridge.

  “Just walk in the open down near the fence,” Graham replied. “I reckon the curve of the hill will hide us and I can’t see any check-point there.”

  In this he was correct. From down at the boundary fence the gentle swelling of the ground hid them from any check-point at the road up on top of the ridge. They simply walked along the fence until they reached the highway. It gave Graham a very exposed feeling as they could see for miles. ‘Like flies on a ceiling,’ he thought. As he walked he studied the rail bridge which he could see clearly a kilometre or so away. Vivid memories of the previous year’s exercise flooded his mind.

  The fence led them to the junction of the Canning Road and Flinders Highway. There was no shade so they had to sit in the sun beside the road. While they waited they told jokes and talked. Graham sat beside Allison and concentrated on her. She kept giving him encouragement and he became aroused again. Once more his mind explored the possibilities of a relationship with her.

  Half an hour later Capt Conkey arrived in his Land Rover.

  “OK CSM, hop in. You others can walk back to camp,” he said.

  This brought more moans from Denton. “But sir, I’ve got sore feet!”

  Capt Conkey’s eyes flickered with annoyance. “Alright. Get in all of you.”

  Graham hopped in the front beside Capt Conkey. The others clambered in the back. Capt Conkey drove down to the Flinders Highway, turned left and drove along it as far as the turn-off to the army camp. The only other group they saw were the ‘Control Group’. They were also missing one yellow epaulet each, the result Sgt Crane sourly remarked, of a meeting with Cpl Brassington’s section.

  The ‘Control Group’ was told to walk back up the slope to camp- only about half a kilometre. Capt Conkey parked the Rover in the shade of a bloodwood and they waited for other groups to appear. First was CUO Bates’, followed a few minutes later by Peter’s. They came out of the tangle of rubber vines and bushes along Scrubby Creek. Sgt Griffin’s appeared, each minus one epaulet, on the crest near the camp.

  These groups were all sent home. Capt Conkey then drove back along the Highway to the Canning Road. Three more groups were found at different points: Costigan’s, Cpl Scott’s and Cpl Laidley’s. All, Graham noted with some relief, minus one epaulet.

  “Only one to go isn’t there?” Capt Conkey asked.

  “Yes sir. Cpl Doyle’s,” Graham replied, pursing his lips and trying to keep his feelings out of his voice with the other cadets listening in the back.

  “Quite so,” Capt Conkey replied dryly, labouring under the same handicap. “Let’s go back to camp and see if they are there.”

  A three minute drive returned them to Sandy Ridge. Cpl Doyle’s section was not there. Capt Conkey called him on his section radio. When Dimbo answered Capt Conkey said, “Where are you Cpl Doyle?”

  “Er.. er.. in a creek somewhere sir, over,” Dimbo replied.

  “Are you east or west of the Canning Road, over?”

  “Er.. er.. er.. East I think sir, over,” Dimbo replied.

  “Then move south west back to camp, over.”

  “Roger, over,” Dimbo answered.

  Capt Conkey hooked his small radio back onto his shirt and said to Graham, “We will wait here. It’s only 1100.” They dismounted. The others walked off towards their hutchies, Allison giving Graham a significant look as she went.

  That got him both hopeful and anxious. ‘I hope the OC or Miss McEwen didn’t see that,’ he thought.

  While he waited Graham sat on a log at the officer’s fire. Capt Conkey and Lt McEwen both sat on folding chairs. Now, out of hearing of the other cadets, Graham felt free to discuss the NCOs and their qualities (or lack of them).

  Between 1130 and 1145 the check-points began to drift in. Platoon commanders reported to Capt Conkey that they and their sections were all back. Graham noted these in his note book. As far as it was possible it was his duty to know where everyone in the company was at all times. He didn’t want to be caught out should the OC ask.

  At 1150 CUO Sherry and Stephen came walking in. While the CUO spoke to the OC Stephen came over to Graham.

  “G’day mate. I hear you’ve been pissed on,” Stephen offered.

  Mentally Graham winced. ‘Bad news certainly travels fast,’ he thought. He forced himself to laugh and to make light of the incident. But inside his youthful military pride was hurt. He had badly wanted to get his patrol through the exercise without being seen or captured. Didn’t the OC always say that the CSM should be the best soldier in the company?

  “Bloody Hodgins!” Graham snorted. “How did you hear about it?”

  “Charlie Cox’s section came through our check-point,” Stephen replied.

  ‘Of course. Cpl Cox’s section was in 1 Platoon,’ Graham remembered. He shrugged. “Have you seen Dimbo Doyle?”

  “Yeah. He blundered into us. He had already lost both of his ‘lives’; ran into Roger’s section twice; the bloody nong!” Stephen replied. “He was heading the wrong way then so we pointed him for home and sent him off. That was half an hour ago.”

  Graham shook his head. If Dimbo had been sent off from Check-point C half an hour earlier then he must be lost. The Check-point was nearly in sight of camp! “Better tell the OC,” he said.

  Stephen did. Capt Conkey pursed his lips and frowned. “If you walked back the same way you should have seen them,” he commented. “Blast!”

  They sat and waited. Just after 1200 Lt Maclaren’s Land Rover turned off the Canning Road. Graham rechecked his notebook. Every section was back except Doyle’s. The Land Rover pulled up and cadets began clambering out of the back- Dimbo’s section.

  Lt Maclaren walked over to the seated group. “I found this lot marching north along the Canning Road as I drove back,” he explained.

  “North!” Capt Conkey exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. “They would have ended up back at their start point! They must have bounced around inside the exercise area like a ball in one of those pinball machines.”

  “Could have been worse,” Lt Hamilton suggested. “They could have wandered out of the exercise area.”r />
  Capt Conkey shuddered. “Don’t even think it. We would be searching for days! North! What goes on inside Doyle’s head I wonder?”

  “Not a lot I suspect,” Lt Hamilton observed.

  Capt Conkey shook his head and muttered something, then stood up. He faced the other officers. “Stop giving me your ‘We told you so’ look. Everyone deserves a chance. Let’s have lunch.”

  CHAPTER 7

  THE CSM’s DAY

  During lunch Graham found himself continually looking at Allison. She frequently met his eyes. Some of the thoughts her glances engendered made the blood pound in his skull.

  ‘Stop looking at her, you bloody fool!’ he told himself angrily. ‘Save it till after camp. It’s only a week.’

  He forced himself to eat quickly. ‘Latrines to organize. No time for playing silly games,’ he told himself. Memories of being tempted by a female cadet in this very place the previous year when he was a corporal helped to cool him. ‘That nearly got me into real trouble,’ he thought. To stiffen his resolve he hastily packed up. Then he turned to Peter.

  “Pete, organize a work party to dig a latrine. I’ll show you where,” he said. He strode off to get the other platoon sergeants moving. It took him nearly half an hour to show each platoon sergeant where latrines were to be dug, some for males and others for females. By then it was time for the afternoon training to begin. Work parties, each comprising a lance corporal and one cadet from each section were detailed to do the digging. That meant they would miss a couple of lessons. Graham made sure that one of the latrine diggers was Hodgins. The selection of the others was left to the respective sergeants.

  There was no company parade before training resumed. The platoons moved on foot to their allotted training areas. This left Graham free to do an inspection of each platoon area to check for neatness and litter. He was generally pleased with the result. There were lolly wrappers in 1 Platoon area; and in 3 Platoon area two cadets had unrolled their bedding to lie on it during the lunch break and had left it unrolled.