1914 (British Ace) (13 page)

I swallowed the whole mug and she refilled it.  I sipped half of the second mug.
“How long since I was wounded?”

“This is the second day.”

Two whole days; I had never been in bed for one whole day before now.  “My leg?”

“You were lucky.  The bullet
s passed through the fleshy part of your thigh and missed everything that was vital. It was the same with your arm.”

“I was wounded in the arm?” No wonder I couldn’t support myself.

“Oh you were a right mess when that old sergeant brought you in.  There was so much blood we all thought that you had bought it. Still you will be out of the war for a while now.  You are to be sent back to Blighty on a hospital ship. Now get some rest and I’ll bring you something to eat.  The doctor will want to talk with you.” She gestured with her head. “He was doing his rounds when one of your cavalrymen took a turn for the worse.”

It was when she left me that I remembered the battle.  I saw Caesar, dead and the others lying riddled with bullet holes.  She was right I had been lucky. I closed my eyes.  I was not sleepy but I did not want to see the
hospital tent.  It was too much a reminder of the horror. Could I go back to riding a horse?  I had only ever ridden Caesar.  Would I be able to ride another?  Would I want to ride another? There was just Doddy left alive from those who had set sail from England.  Doddy and George Armstrong were the last ones.  I didn’t count Lieutenant Ramsden.  He would have survived.  He was the surviving kind.

“Are you in pain?  Would you like something to take the edge off
it?”

I opened my eyes and saw a doctor.  He looked to be older than George.  I smiled, “No sir.  I was just resting like the nurse told me to. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“And you are not.” He turned to the nurse.  It was the one who had spoken with me earlier. “Nurse, roll back the covers so that I can check the dressing.”

“How is the soldier you were
attending?”

The nurse looked sad and shook her head.  The doctor said, “Trooper Brown? I’m sorry he was too far gone.  It was a miracle he had lasted as long as he did.”

“Doddy?”

“You knew him?
A giant of a man?”

I nodded, “I was his sergeant.  His brother died the other day.”

The nurse put her hand on mine, “I am so sorry.  I didn’t know.”

It had been many years since I had cried.  I don’t know if it was just the thought of Doddy’s death or everything combining: the death of Caesar and the slaughter of my whole section.  I had let them all down.  Whatever the reason I began to cry and sob. I felt like a baby. The nurse put her arm around me and I cried into her apron. When I finally stopped she handed me a handkerchief.

“It is over for him now, sergeant.  You’ll just have to remember him as he was.”

The doctor had finished examining me.  Tactfully he had ignored my tears.  I suspected that he might have seen it before. “The wound is healing nicely.  He can go aboard the hospital ship tomorrow
, nurse.  We need the beds.”

I was left alone with my thoughts.  I would have to write a letter to Mrs Brown, telling her of her loss.  By rights it should have been the lieutenant but he did not know them and so I would do it.  Then there
were the others.  Most of them had come from within ten miles of the estate and I had known almost all of them for my whole life.  I resolved there and then that I did not want the responsibility of other’s lives again. There were other troop sergeants in the regiment who had not lost most of their men and that was down to me. Nurse Simpson, I had learned her name by now, badgered me until I ate something. Even as I was eating they were removing Doddy’s body and another patient was taking his place. It was like a plough going over a field.  New bodies were turned and old ones removed.

I dozed off after the food and
was awoken by a tap on the arm.  It was George.  He had a bandage on his hand.  I shook my head, “And I thought that you were untouchable.”

He laughed, “Aye well it’s not a wound as will get me home that’s for certain but I reckon the regiment will have to go back home anyway.”

“Why is that?”

“We lost too many men and horses. I heard that those who w
ish to, can transfer to a regular regiment.”

“It was that bad?”

“Aye. It was an ambush of sorts.  We should have stopped sooner but, well, when the blood is up.”

“Did many survive from our troop?”

“Just me, Danny Graham and the lieutenant.” He pointed at me, “And you, of course.”

“Doddy died this afternoon.”

“I know.  I don’t know how he survived.  He should get a medal.  He fought like a maniac.” He shook his head.  “I have never seen owt like it.”

“It didn’t do us much good did it?”

He became serious, “I told you once before that any soldier who expects him and all his mates to survive a war is missing a few screws up top. It was bad enough in the old days but with these machine guns and the German guns, well, we stand no chance.” I could see that he was right. “What will you do, Bill?”

“They are sending me to a hospital and then… well home I suppose.”

“And then what?”

I had not thought that far ahead. “I think I will just get home first.  I’ll have to see Mrs Brown and tell her about her lads.  She will be all alone now. Will you go back home?”

“I suppose I will.  The colonel asked me to be caretaker for the barracks.  They won’t be needing it for a while and… well it will keep me occupied.”

“I take it the colonel is going to transfer?”

“He is, although what young Mr Ramsden will do is anybody’s guess.”

“Just so long as they keep him out of the front line.
  Too many men lost their lives because of his mistakes.”

George suddenly looked furtive. He rummaged around in his knapsack. “Here, they didn’t like the idea of you having this but I thought you might want it.” He slipped me my Luger
, holster and ammunition. “I’ll put them in your knapsack. You never know, if you do join up again then you might need it.”

Nurse Simpson came along, “He needs his sleep now
, sergeant.”

George smiled, “I know love.  Can I see him in the morning before he goes on the hospital ship?”

“You’ll need to be here early they will be leaving for the ship at dawn, but, yes, of course you can.”

“You take care, Bill.  I don’t know how you survived but you did and I think you have a job to do.  You are a good sergeant and a good soldier. Don’t waste those talents.”

After he had gone Nurse Simpson tucked me in, “It’s a shame old men like him having to fight.”

“You think it should be the young eh?”

She seemed taken aback, “Well, no, but he is old enough to be my grandfather.”

“George has no kids and no family.  His life was the army.  Being inactive will be as bad for him as getting a wound.”

“That sounds a bit wise for someone so young.”

“Over there,” I gestured with my good hand
towards what I assumed was the front line, “you grow up fast or you don’t grow up at all.”

“Well you get some sleep.  You will be out of it all for a while at least.”

George was there as soon as I woke up. “I had to say goodbye son.  I am not sure I will be seeing you again but when you do get home then come to the barracks and look me up. We are leaving next week so I should be there before you.”

“I think I will see you again George but on the off chance I don’t then it has been an honour to serve with you.  I know Doddy and the other lads thought so too. Without you we wouldn’t have lasted a week.” I saluted and he stood to attention.

“Be seeing you, Bill.” I could hear the emotion as he spoke and I noticed that he seemed older somehow, more bent over.  He only had a flesh wound but the war had hurt him more deeply than that.

Nurse Simpson insisted on helping me to dress. She laughed when I complained, “You silly goose! Who do you think undressed you?
You men!”

To my chagrin they would not let me walk.  The doctor and the bossy Nurse Simpson were adamant that my leg needed rest. The doctor shook his head.  “It might be weeks before you walk again.”

I gave him a grim stare.  “I’ll be walking in a week and then it’s home for me.”

“Rest as much as you can
Sergeant Harsker, this war will last a long time even a girl like me can see that.”

Perhaps Nurse Simpson was right; the war was not over by Christmas as the papers had predicted.

The hospital ship was far cleaner than the tent I had spent the last couple of days in but I missed Nurse Simpson and I missed George. I found myself withdrawn and I just wrote.  I wrote letters to my mother and to Mrs Brown.  I had no idea when I would send them but it gave me something to do and helped me to get some sort of perspective.

Dear Mrs Brown,

I am Sergeant William Harsker and I had the honour of commanding your two boys.

They both died bravely and they did their duty.  Your son Doddy has been recommended for a medal. I know that I owe my life to him. Both boys were very popular with the rest of the troop and I cannot speak highly enough of them.

I am heading back home to convalesce and I will call in to see you.

Hoping this finds you well,

Sergeant William Harsker

As soon as we landed I gave the letters to an orderly and asked him to post them. We then spent a day in Grange Hospital at Deal before we were all sent to hospitals closer to home.  There were twenty of us from the regiment who were carted, like so much sick livestock, aboard the train north to Lord Derby’s War Hospital at Winwick. I was not looking forward to the journey until I found that Robbie McGlashan was on board the train too. He had had to have his left arm amputated.  As he said, “I am right handed.  I’ll learn to cope. Poor Doddy and Tiny would give their right arms to be where we are now.” He shook his head.  “I never thought so many would buy it.”

It gave me pause for thought.  He was right and I knew I had to stop moping around. The journey passed quickly as I told him of the race to the sea and told him how the others had died.
Like George he was dismissive of the lieutenant. “I agree with you sarge, he will get a cushy little number somewhere safe.”

The hospital in Winwick was huge.  There were over three thousand beds but, in those early days of the war, there were less than two hundred of us
occupying them.  As time went on the beds filled up but for that first week it was, virtually, just our regiment. The staff knew their business and Robbie showed great progress.  The doctor told him he could have a false hand.  Of course Robbie couldn’t resist the jokes, “I’ve got to hand it to you doc… that’ll come in handy.”

The doctor smiled when I groaned; I was in the next bed. “It’s very healthy
, sergeant.  Better to look on the glass half full rather than half empty.” He was right. You needed a positive attitude or you would want to end it all.

My arm healed really quickly but my leg would not bear my weight at first. One of the male orderlies, who
was a huge man himself, had a suggestion. “Let’s try to exercise the muscle. He rigged up a weight and a pulley.  I was able to use my injured leg to pull up the weight.  As the leg did not have to bear my weight the muscle was able to work better. “You keep working at that sarge and we’ll have you up and about in a couple of days.”

My life suddenly got better as I was able to do something constructive for myself. 
I worked as much as I could. The pain from the exercise also helped, in a strange way. I lifted the weights until I could lift no more.  Life began to get back to normal. The final joy came when we received our back mail then it was even better.

I had a letter from mum
which was the first I had received since the war had started.

2
nd
September 1914

Dear Son,

I hope you are safe.  We read that there were many young men killed and wounded in August.  I hope the war is over soon.

Your sister is getting married next month.  She and her young man have decided that they cannot wait until after the war.  It’s a shame you’ll miss it but it will just be a quiet affair.
Lord Burscough has said we can use the chapel at the big house. The estate is almost deserted.  Most of the young lads are in the army. Young Lord Burscough has joined the Royal Flying Corps! Can you imagine it?  You wouldn’t get me up in one of those contraptions. He was kind enough to call round to see us last time he was home on leave.

Bert loves driving Lord Burscough around but he misses you.  All he wants is to become a soldier
just like you. I hope to get a letter from you soon.  I know it might be hard to get to a post box but do try.

Your loving mother

xxx