“I gather you are coming with me tonight,Paisley.”
“Where else should I be, sir? With respect,sir, I was sticking a bayonet in wogs and them Boers when you was still in babyfrocks, sir. I maybe ain’t so very nimble as I was, sir, but for running a fewyards and hopping in and out of a trench, sir, I can still be doing that. Inany case, sir, terrible tedious it can be, sitting about in a dugout andpolishing boots and such – I need a little of what they might call lightrelief, sir.”
“Who am I to argue, Paisley? Which raidingparty am I best to go with?”
The colonel’s batman was a privileged soldier– not merely a servant. He was expected to have opinions and to make them knownto the colonel and him alone. The ordinary rules did not apply to this one ofall the men in the battalion. In return, he would never break a confidence,would keep his mouth tightly closed in the company of all others, careful evenin anything he said to O’Grady. Normally, his advice would be worth listeningto.
“Mr Draper might benefit from having hishand held, sir. Been talking bold and undaunted all morning, sir. Bold Brennanon the Moor is as nothing to that one, sir.”
“Heard one or two of the lads singingthat, Paisley.”
“Fine old song, sir. Very popular amongthe lads from the south of the land, sir, down around Cork, for some reason.”
More than a third of the battalion wasmade up of Irish volunteers, as was the case for the whole of the Army.
“Trying to talk himself into it, do youthink, Paisley?”
“I am not to be commenting on any officer,sir. Not my place, sir. That said, you might feel well-advised to be treadingon his heels and keeping him pointed in the right direction, sir.”
“Windy, not just nervous, you would say?”
“Don’t like the feel of him, that’s forsure, sir. What was he before he came across to us, sir?”
Most of the captains had transferred tothe new battalion on promotion. Two, to Richard’s knowledge, had taken postingsin their existing rank to get out of garrison troops, one from Ireland, theother from Gibraltar; they could have stayed far distant from the Trenches forthe whole of the war, had chosen to go into danger. He could not remember offhandwhere Draper had been, walked the few yards to the adjutant’s dugout.
“Hawkeswill, what was Draper before hejoined us?”
“Captain in the Hampshires. His peoplepermitted him to transfer across to us because of our need for some experiencedofficers in the rank. To an extent, sir, it was a favour to you, bearing inmind the respect you are held in. His battalion was on its way to Gallipoli. Ihave an application from him to move again, back to the Hampshires, the 5thBattalion who are bound for India. Says that he would prefer to return to hisoriginal regiment having lent us the benefit of his experience.”
Hawkeswill’s voice was dry, in the extreme.
Richard noted that Draper had avoidedGallipoli and was now endeavouring to remove himself from the Western Front.
“My word. A much-travelled gentleman.Forward the request to Brigade with no comment… Not until tomorrow, thinking onit – I may have something to say after tonight.”
“Yes, sir. What do I do with this newofficer, Orpington, sir?”
“Put him on our roll. We will need replacementofficers sooner or later and he is competent. He is made full lieutenant, bythe way. Issue one of the spare rifles and pouches to him.”
There was a rack of eight rifles on theback wall, taken from the wounded and three dead the battalion had lost in itsfirst days. The clumsy and the careless had shown their heads and had suffered;they had lost nobody in the previous twenty-four hours, the lesson having beendriven home to the remainder of the men.
“There is a shortage of firewood and ofcoal, sir. We have had sacks of coke sent up instead.”
Richard gathered from Hawkeswill’s expressionthat there was a problem.
“Coke gives off gas, sir, when it isburnt. Eight men in a dugout, sleeping with the door closed and the cracksstuffed with rag to prevent the cold air getting in, could easily all die fromthe poisoning if they kept a fire in all night.”
“Forbid coke fires in the dugouts. Teafires to be outdoors. What’s the chance of extra blankets?”
“Thousands of them in the QM stores atCalais, sir. They won’t release them, keeping a stock against urgent need, sir.”
“Impossible to run a raid on the stores. Needmore than a bottle of Scotch as well… What would it cost to get two thousandissued to us?”
“That would have to be authorised at highlevel, sir. An ordinary sergeant couldn’t do it. It would need cash in an officer’spocket. Gold sovereigns, at that. At least a hundred, sir, at a guess. Bigmoney, according to the whispers. I don’t know who could do it – never been involved.”
Richard nodded and returned to his ownlittle den where he called for O’Grady and outlined the problem.
“And are you having a hundred or more ofgold sovereigns about ye, sir?”
“Yes. My father pressed them upon me, oneof the last things he did before we parted in London. He said he knew nothingof soldiering and the Army and less of France; he did know human beings, hesaid, and was prepared to bet that a purse of gold coins would come in handy,one way or another.”
“What’s the time now, sir?”
“Ten thirty.”
“Time for me to make my way to Brigade andback again, sir, with an hour or two to spare before we must be busy tonight,being as I shall be at your shoulder, naturally enough. I have an acquaintancethere who can achieve a deal of things, when spoken to face to face. If it ispossible, he will know. If not, well I shall not argue with him. It is the sortof thing that if he cannot do, most likely none at all can.”
Richard nodded, not entirely happily.Offering Scotch for favours was just the Army way of doing things. Paying outcash smacked of criminality… Winter was coming in and the men must
