“Just so, Baker! I sat down for an hourwith pen and paper last night, trying to write home. Well, not a try as such, Ifinished a letter and sent it off. Wasn’t happy with it, didn’t say enough andcouldn’t say too much. Not so hard for you young men – I’m no spring chickenand taking a wife at my age is no small matter… Glad I did though. Fine lady, MrsBrigadier! Thing is, Baker, poor gel’s been widowed once already – not that herfirst was much of a loss! Knew him – she was pushed by her parents intomarrying at sixteen, because he had money. Best thing that could have happenedto her when he died five years later. Put all his cash, everything he had got,into a gold mine, the damned fool! Stuck a twelve-bore shotgun in his mouth –must have been messy – when the mine failed, the vein or seam or whatever theycall it came to a sudden end and the shares fell to a penny from five poundsthe week before. Funny thing was, six months later they dropped another shaftor somesuch a couple of hundred feet lower and there it was again, richer than ever.When probate came through the shares were higher than before. My clever ladysold out at their peak!”
Richard was amazed, as he must be,wondering quite why he should be told such detail of the lady’s finances andhistory.
“Back in ’05, that was, Baker. Stayedsingle for damned near ten years and then decided to marry me, of all people! Knownher for years, of course, her family lived close to mine. Always admired her,from a distance, second son and all that, no way for me to marry. Best thingever happened to me – there I was suddenly in the market for a wife when mybrother died and she snapped me up just like that. That’s why I want to make sureshe ain’t worried by the letters I send back. Tell her everything’s fine anddandy, she’s too sensible to believe that! Write the truth, that the Trenchesare a bloodbath, and she’ll be thinking I might be caught up in theslaughterhouse. Not easy!”
“Same here, sir. You know how clever myPrimrose is – far more so than me! She will read all I have to say andunderstand a damned sight more than I want her to, whatever I do. Still, I sentone off to her yesterday. Ought to be well. Is there any progress on extraVickers for the battalion, sir?”
“None! Bloody fools are consideringmachine gun regiments, so they tell me. To bolster up the line where needed andprovide backing to advances. Plans are for as many as eighty guns to be rushed intoaction and provide a concentration of firepower to stop any onslaught. Anadvance will be across no-man’s-land in ten minutes at most – how are they goingto march a regiment into place in that time? They argue that no advance takesplace without a preliminary softening up by the artillery, so they will havehours to place the guns – marching them up into a massive bombardment!”
It sounded more than normally foolish,even for the staff.
“Apparently French is in favour of the scheme.He believes that the massed machine guns will be able to cut down any attackand leave a gap for the cavalry to exploit. He has laid down that there is to bea brigade of cavalry waiting to the rear of the machine gun regiments whenever theyare deployed. Smith-Dorrien is arguing against him and Haig and his pals in thenewspapers in London are stabbing both men in the back, as normal. Completebloody shambles, Baker!”
Richard was not at all surprised. The highcommand had been distinguished solely by its incompetence in the first year ofthe war. That it should be carrying on in the same vein was only to be expected.
“Any prospect of French actually gettingup to the front, seeing the reality of this war, sir?”
“None! He prefers to take the long view –no sense to confusing himself by seeing the fighting ground close up. Haig isthe same, of course. He got too close to the machine guns at Le Cateau and didn’tlike it at all! You won’t see him within ten miles of the front line again!”
“We need only fighting soldiers up here,in any case, sir. No place for the staff!”
Braithwaite agreed, ended the call by tellingRichard to take no unnecessary risks that night.
“Pointless, saying that to you, of allmen, Baker! Try not to kill yourself!”
There was no gain to protesting, to sayingthat he would do no more than the situation demanded of him – the Old Man wasconvinced that he loved nothing more than the smell of German blood and wouldtake any risk to spill more of it.
“All in hand, Paisley?”
His batman seemed slightly offended by thequestion – everything was always ready.
“Yes, sir. Your trench knife is sharp; ironclub with its handle rebound; revolver cleaned and loaded with six. Got six ofthem new Mills bombs for meself, sir, and put a sharp on me own bayonet, what Ithinks is better than that old trench knife. Got me own pair of wire cuttersbesides, what were going spare when we happened to have a few minutes at Calais,sir.”
Richard remembered they had been in companywith a detachment of Engineers for a while, waiting for their transport.
“What else did they lose, Paisley?”
“I would not be knowing that, not forsure, sir. I did notice the ‘Major to be talking to others of his ilk - PapistSinn Feiners, without a doubt – and to be passing four bottles of the goodScotch across. What they put in his direction, I would not know, but he is notone to be getting the worst of any bargain, that is for sure!”
A good Orangeman, Paisley, which did notstop him from sitting and smoking and talking with O’Grady whenever they had a fewminutes free. Things might be different when
