The Cadet Corporal (21 page)

Kirsty sat beside him but he shook his head. “We'd better behave,” he whispered.

Kirsty pouted but nodded.

Time began to drag slowly. Once Graham thought he heard sounds across the Canning Road in the area they had crossed when getting into position but he saw nothing. However his suspicions were confirmed five minutes later when a burst of yelling came from up the hill behind them. “Sounds like our vehicles just got annihilated,” he murmured.

“They will find the company then,” Pat added.

As if to confirm this there was more yelling and banging up the hill, but muffled and further away. Graham thought that was either Stephen's section or the section of 3 Platoon between the knoll and the North-South fence.

Kirsty looked anxious and whispered, “Are there enemy behind us?”

“Yes,” Graham replied.

“But we might get cut off and be captured,” she said anxiously.

Graham felt a spasm of fear at that idea but then shook his head and grinned. “Or they are the ones who might be cut off and trapped,” he replied.

Kirsty looked doubtful but Graham suddenly felt confident and he knew he was starting to enjoy the experience of leading a patrol. They settled down to watch.

The next action however came from down the creek the other side of the fence. A spirited mock battle raged for five minutes somewhere near where the two creeks joined below the North Gravel Pit. Obviously the enemy had run into the patrol from 1 Platoon.

“They are probably the same mob of enemy who ran into us,” Pat suggested.

Graham agreed. He now stood and focused on different directions for a minute at a time. He also checked the time. They were due to be relieved by 5 Section at 2100 and he saw with surprise that it was already 2035. A feeling of regret made him realise that now he was out on patrol and had actually met the enemy that he was really enjoying himself. ‘I wish we could stay out longer,' he thought.

His desire for more ‘action' was soon gratified. Ten minutes later a group of seven enemy came along the dry creek bed from the direction of Sandy Ridge. Graham saw them coming when they were still a hundred metres away. In the starlight they looked like black figure targets as they were silhouetted against the pale sand. By the time they reached the bend in the creek he had the other members of the patrol spread across thirty metres of front.

At his shout they opened fire. This group of enemy were more alert and much better led. They deployed and pretended to return fire. Then they made several attempts to advance. That got Graham very ‘heart-in-mouth' anxious and for few moments he contemplated retreating. Then his stubborn pride helped him to decide to stay. He shouted encouragement and kept moving rapidly from side to side to try to confuse the enemy as to his intentions and numbers. After a while the enemy pulled back, then turned and went west across the Canning Road near the turn-off.

Graham contemplated following them but reluctantly decided he must stay where he was. ‘They will get behind us now,' he thought.

They did. From time to time he heard them moving in the dip and then on the rocky slope. ‘I hope Gwen doesn't run into them,' he thought. To warn her he sent a radio report to Coy HQ informing them of the strength and direction of enemy movement. “Warn Patrol Two Three,” he added.

As he said this a battle erupted across the road behind him. There was a lot of yelling and banging and running around for a few minutes. Then Gwen came on the radio to report to Coy HQ that her section had ambushed an enemy patrol that was now withdrawing South West. She also warned Graham that her patrol was now moving to his location. Voices and boots moving towards his position indicated to Graham that there were people coming from behind him. Graham thought it was Gwen's patrol but just to be sure he had his patrol redeploy to face back towards Black Knoll and he tensed as dark figures flitted across the road. But it was Gwen's patrol. She called softly and Graham went to meet her.

“Did you get ambushed?” he asked.

“No fear! We heard your warning. Thanks. We hid and really caught them,” Gwen replied happily.

“All yours then,” Graham replied. “We will get back.”

“Quickly please. We have only half a platoon holding our part of the front and I think there is another enemy patrol up there somewhere,” Gwen replied.

Just as she said this the sound of distant shouts and screams came from the other direction, from Sandy Ridge. The cadets crouched, tense and ready. Then deep “Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!” bellows told them what was happening. Graham grinned “That's the Hutchie Men attacking Heatley's new patrol base,” he said.

This was confirmed by more yells of fear, among which sounded the quavering shriek, “Hutchie Men!”

At that the waiting cadets burst into laughter. The two corporals had to angrily hiss for silence. Gwen nudged Graham. “Go on, get back up the hill. Our side of the company is only held by Steve's section and two half sections.”

“That's if they are awake,” added Pat.

Graham collected his cadets and regretfully set off home. They crossed the Canning Road and headed across the dip and up the rocky slope near the fence. As they went Graham kept every sense alert.

It was just as well he did as he heard the chink of rock on rock and then glimpsed movement against the stars. He went to ground and the others did likewise. From his right rear came a group moving up the hill following the fence. ‘Is that 1 Platoon's patrol or the enemy?' he wondered.

CHAPTER 21

CHALLENGES IN THE NIGHT

Graham lowered himself down till he lay flat on the stony ground. By doing so he was able to skyline the dark figures ahead of him. He also found his hands and knees hurting from the sharp rocks and pickles. But he barely noticed the discomfort. By now his heart was hammering hard with anxiety and excitement.

‘Definitely not ours,' he decided, noting the way the figures kept stopping to stare up the slope. It took an effort of willpower, but Graham made himself wait till the rival patrol began moving before rising to his feet. He signalled his own patrol to follow and carefully moved one foot at a time. In doing so he and the others dislodged a few stones but luckily the other people were making so much noise themselves they evidently did not hear them.

There was the barbed wire fence to negotiate and Graham slithered under this, heedless of scratches and prickles. The others muttered a few grumbles but followed his example. Within a minute he had them on their feet advancing side by side up the slope. By then the enemy patrol had almost vanished from sight. Graham began to fret that he had moved too slowly and that they would get away.

‘They will reach the company position if we don't catch them,' he thought anxiously. The desire to avoid being seen as a failure by the OC now spurred him to act. The Heatley patrol had vanished over the crest near the vehicles, angling to their right. That would take them away from the vehicles and across the top of the re-entrant. To Graham's dismay he found he could no longer see them. He stopped and listened.

The faint chink of rock on rock gave him the direction and he waved his patrol forward. Then he was concerned to find that the Heatley patrol was moving much faster than he had expected. They had drawn fifty metres ahead. Angry with himself for miscalculating he increased his pace.

As the patrol went down to the lip of the re-entrant Graham was surprised by a voice hissing at him from close ahead.

“Sssh! You are making too much noise,” it said.

His heart thudding with the shock, Graham strained his eyes and saw a line of dark figures crouched behind trees and rocks only a few metres ahead. ‘Damn!' he thought in dismay, ‘stuffed up again!'

Then he heard the same voice ask, “Who's that? Get down.”

‘They think we are part of their patrol,' Graham thought. At almost the same instant he realised he had a fleeting chance, so he took it. “Bang!” he shouted.

“Shit! Enemy!” yelled the startled Heatley patrol commander.

To Graham's relief his own cadets now joined in, running up on either side of him and yelling loudly. There was a minute's confused screaming and scuttling and the surprised Heatley patrol scattered and ran off to the left. Graham led his patrol after them as far as the top of the saddle. He was so excited he was shouting at the top of his voice and could hear the echoes rolling out over the countryside.

Halyday even ran over and grabbed one member of the other patrol as he scrambled under the North-South fence. The Heatley cadet squealed and struggled free. The remainder of the Heatley patrol now rallied as their leader recovered his wits. A banging match began for a minute. Graham wondered if he should try to push further. He even summoned the courage to dash forward to the fence. However he could now make out six figures in the other patrol and he knew he was outnumbered.

To his relief the Heatley patrol kept pulling back into the head of the re-entrant on the west side of the saddle.

“Cease fire! That will do!” he ordered. A wave of exultation surged through him and he stood for a minute revelling in it. The others stood beside him, talking excitedly and laughing. Then Graham realised that wasn't very military. ‘We could get caught by surprise just as easily,' he thought. “Stop talking! Silence!” he snapped.

When the others had fallen silent he pointed across the saddle. “Let's go home,” he whispered. They set off towards the clumps of rocks which were just visible in the starlight. As they did he made a radio report informing Coy HQ which way the enemy patrol had withdrawn and that they were coming in.

A minute later a voice challenged quietly from the darkness, “Halt!”

It was Stephen. He was at his sentry post at the base of the knoll. Graham gave the counter-sign for the password and then walked over to where Stephen and one of his cadets crouched behind the boulders.

“You caught that mob a beauty,” Stephen commented in a hoarse whisper.

“We've had a good night,” Graham replied. He was now glowing with the achievements of his patrol.

Movement on the rocky path up beside the knoll attracted his attention. It was CUO Masters. He hissed at them, “Cpl Bell, who is it?”

“Cpl Kirk sir,” Stephen called softly back.

“Send him up, and stop talking. That Heatley patrol is still out there and could come back.”

“Yes sir.”

Graham realised he had been sweating and now he shivered. He led his patrol up the rough path to meet CUO Masters then followed him around to where Coy HQ was. Capt Conkey and CSM Cleland sat behind their screen of sleeping bags. Graham reported he was back. Capt Conkey nodded, then said, “Deploy your people back in their defensive position, then come here and fill out a patrol report.”

“Yes sir.”

Graham led the others back over to where their packs were. He could just see a few dark bumps that indicated other members of the platoon and it reminded him of what Gwen had said. ‘We are a bit thin on the ground,' he thought.

Roger and Andrews were on sentry. Andrews looked up and grumbled, “About bloody time! Can I go to bed now?”

“No. Not till your time on sentry is up,” Graham replied. “I will relieve you as soon as I have filled out my report.”

The other patrol members had bunched up and Pat asked, “What do we do?”

“Go to bed and get as much rest as you can. The exercise goes on till dawn and it could be a long, hard night.”

“Long and hard eh? Is that a promise?” Kirsty commented.

Graham blushed furiously and felt a surge of anger. “That will do Kirsty!” he hissed. Then he mentally kicked himself for not calling her Cadet Weldon. The snickers of the others did nothing to ease his embarrassment. ‘They must suspect we are doing things,' he thought unhappily. “Stop talking and keep quiet,” he snapped, louder and more forcefully than he intended. “Now go to bed.”

To avoid any further comments he made his way back up past platoon HQ to Coy HQ. As he did there was a sudden outburst of loud shouts and cries of ‘Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!' from down at the bottom of the hill near where Graham had left Gwen's patrol. ‘The Hutchie Men,' he thought. ‘I hope they haven't clashed with Gwen's patrol.'

They hadn't. On arriving at Coy HQ, Graham heard CSM Cleland report to the OC that the Hutchie Men had caught another Heatley patrol by surprise. The Heatley patrol had run and blundered into Gwen's patrol and been hit again. That news made Graham grin and he saw that Capt Conkey was smiling and enjoying himself.

“Four Platoon is back on our side of the highway now,” Capt Conkey added. “They will start probing Heatley's new position on Sandy Ridge soon.”

“Did they raid the airfield sir?” Graham asked. He craned forward to study the map board in the faint light of the small torch which hung from a cord above it.

“Yes they did. They even took some prisoners and only had one patrol in trouble. Now, here is a Patrol Report. Fill it in and get back to your section as quickly as you can.”

Graham took off his webbing and sat to one side, took out his pocket torch and a pencil, then turned the torch on and held it in his mouth. For the next ten minutes he was busy filling out the report.

He was just finishing when the scuffle and thud of approaching boots sounded. Both Capt Conkey and CSM Cleland looked up expectantly. It was the Hutchie Men. Their camouflaged faces grinned in the dim light.

“Back sir,” Porno reported. “We have jolly good time.”

“Sit down and tell me about it,” Capt Conkey replied. As they dumped their webbing and sat down Capt Conkey turned to Graham. “Have you finished yet Cpl Kirk? Good. Give me a quick verbal report. I will read the details tomorrow.”

That put Graham on the spot. He didn't want to sound as though he was boasting but he did think his patrol had done very well. He also felt self-conscious telling his story in front of the Hutchie Men. ‘They will have had real adventures,' he thought. As quickly as he could he described the various actions his patrol had been involved in. Capt Conkey sat listening, nodding thoughtfully. He asked a few questions to check some details then said, “That sounds like you did a very good job. Now, get back to your section then and stay alert.”

Graham badly wanted to stay and hear the Hutchie Men's story but could only nod, stand up and slip his torch and pencil back into his pocket. Hoisting his webbing loosely over his shoulders he walked off. As he stumbled over the rocks he glowed at Capt Conkey's praise. But the words made him feel even more guilty about the memories of cuddling Kirsty which had been crossing his mind while he had made his report. ‘I have to get her to stop without putting her nose out of joint,' he decided. ‘But how?'

It was just coming up to 2200 by then so he had a drink and then made his way to the sentry post. Andrews was still grumbling and was pleased to be relieved. He moved back a few metres to where his bedding was and lay down beside Halyday. Ten metres to the left were the dark forms of the three girls and the rustle of plastic and mutter of voices told Graham that Kirsty was settling down. Thoughts of her caused him to shake his head with anxiety.

‘She will get me into trouble and I will never get to be a sergeant,' Graham worried. With these gloomy thoughts he seated himself beside Roger.

“How did it go?” Roger asked.

As quietly as he could Graham whispered the story. As he did he realised that Roger was jealous. ‘Poor bugger!' he thought. But he knew he had to leave his 2ic to command the other half of the section.

The two friends settled to watch in silence. As they sat there Graham's mind roved alternately from his patrol exploits to Kirsty. Memories of those delicious minutes of kissing and of the smell and feel of her caused him to alternately flush with pleasure and guilt. These reveries were interrupted by the sound of another train crossing the rail bridge. It sounded amazingly loud to him and he commented on this to Roger.

“How far is to the bridge?” Roger asked.

“About three kilometres in a straight line,” Graham replied, still marvelling on how well noise travelled in the still, night air.

“They are the best kind,” Roger answered with a chuckle. “It's never that easy when you try to walk it.”

“You are right there!”

The two then sat in companionable silence as the rumble of the train died in the distance. Graham became aware that he could even hear the noise of cars on the highway and occasionally noted the loom of their lights as they went over a hill several kilometres to the East. Then the stillness of the night was shattered by shouts and screams from down at the bottom of the ridge. Graham tensed for a second, then relaxed.

“One Platoon's patrol has bumped someone,” he commented. For a minute or so he debated waking up the remainder of the section just in case but as the yelling died away he decided not to. ‘The enemy are going away,' he decided. He settled back to watching.

By then it was 2300 so Roger went and woke Pat. Pat got up without a grumble and quickly came over to take his turn on sentry. He was obviously still half asleep but Graham was still wide awake so there was no problem. Roger took himself to bed. Graham liked Pat.

‘It's a pity he is only in Year 8,' he thought. He knew that Capt Conkey preferred not to send Year 8s on the Corporals Course because they were too young to command cadets the same age. ‘I will recommend him for promotion to lance corporal though,' he decided.

That got him thinking about his own promotion chances and he decided that he was actually doing reasonably well. ‘I might be in the top half of the corporals,' he thought hopefully. But he knew that he had to resist Kirsty or he would never make sergeant.

Twenty minutes slid by, the silence broken only by the hoot of an owl and the distant howl of a dingo. There wasn't even a breeze to rustle the leaves. Then a scream from behind Graham made him sit up in alarm. It was a girl's scream but it was drowned by other shouts and yells. It came from just back over the crest.

“Three Platoon in trouble,” Graham said. He stood up, ready to wake the others. Back towards HQ he saw figures stirring and moving: CUO Masters and Sgt Grenfell. They hurried over to the crest and joined in the mock battle. Graham quickly woke Halyday and Andrews and was about to wake the girls when Roger joined him to report he had done that. “Keep watching our own front,” he ordered.

By now the yells and jeering laughter were receding. It was obvious that a Heatley patrol had managed to infiltrate and was now withdrawing. Graham saw dark figures running and stumbling across the bottom of the knoll from Coy HQ and heard Capt Conkey's voice calling for a report.

“Those noddies from Three Platoon have let an enemy patrol in,” Pat commented.

They had too. A few minutes later CUO Masters appeared to check that 4 Section was awake and alert. When he found they were all awake and ready he grunted “well done” and whispered to Graham the story as he knew it. “Apparently Eight Section's sentries went to sleep: Franks and Bycroft. The Heatley patrol snuck through and marked them all with red felt pen to show that their throats were cut. They were just doing that to the platoon HQ when CUO Mitrovitch woke up and screamed.”

Pat chuckled and said, “She probably thought it was you sir,”

“Don't be cheeky Cadet Sheehan!” CUO Masters snapped, but then he chuckled too. “Poor old Three Platoon. The OC is really peeved. So make sure you lot stay alert so it doesn't happen to us.”