The Valley of Bones (28 page)

‘Yes.’

‘Strictly speaking, this instruction
should have been issued by me through your Company Commander, but, to avoid
confusion, I thought I’d tell you direct. There was another reason, too, why I
wanted to speak personally. If the new DAAG is an approachable chap, find out
about that Intelligence course I’m supposed to be going on. Also about those
two officer reinforcements we’ve been promised. All right?’

‘All right.’

‘Report what I’ve just told you about
yourself to the two officers concerned – Rowland and Idwal – right away. Tell
them they’ll get it in writing tomorrow. All right?’

‘Yes.’

Maelgwyn-Jones hung up. Castlemallock
was to be left behind. I heard the news without regret; although in the army – as
in love – anxiety is an ever-present factor where change is concerned. I
returned to Kedward and told him what was happening to me.

‘You’re leaving right away?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘What are you going to do at Div?’

‘No idea. Could be only temporary, I
suppose. I may reappear.’

‘You won’t if you once go.’

‘You think not?’

‘As I’ve said before, Nick, you’re a
bit old for a subaltern in an operational unit. I want to make the Company more
mobile. I was a little worried anyway about having you on my hands, to tell the
truth.’

‘Well, you won’t have to worry any
longer, Idwal.’

These words of mine expressed, on my
own part, no more, no less, than what they were, a mere statement of fact. They
did not convey the smallest reverberation of acerbity at being treated so
frankly as a more than doubtful asset. Kedward dealt in realities. There is
much to be said for persons who traffic in this corn, provided it is always
borne in mind that so-called realities present, as a rule, only a small part of
the picture. On this occasion, however, I was myself in complete agreement with
Kedward’s view about my departure, feeling even stimulated by a certain
excitement at the thought of being on the move.

‘You’d better tell Rowland right away.’

‘I’m going to.’

I returned to the Company Office.
Gwatkin was surrounded with papers. He looked as if he were handing over an
Army in the field, rather than a Company on detachment for security duties. He
glared when I came through the door at this disobeying of an order that he
should be left undisturbed. I repeated Maelgwyn-Jones’s words. Gwatkin pushed
back his chair.

‘So you’re leaving the Battalion too,
Nick?’

‘The Adjutant didn’t say for how long.’

‘You won’t come back, if you go to
Division.’

‘That’s what Idwal said.’

‘What can it be? They’d hardly give
you a staff appointment. It’s probably something like Bithel. I hear he’s going
to the Mobile Laundry. The CO must have rigged that.’

I saw that even Bithel’s new command
was painful to Gwatkin, destined himself for the ITC. My own unexplained move
was scarcely less disturbing to him. He frowned.

‘This must be part of a general
shake-up,’ he said. ‘CSM Cadwallader is leaving the Battalion too.’

‘Why is the Sergeant-Major going?’

‘Age. I don’t understand why
Maelgwyn-Jones did not pass the order about yourself to me in the first
instance.’

‘He said he spoke to me personally
because he wanted to explain about some questions I was to put to the new DAAG.’

‘He should have done that through me.’

‘He said you would get it in writing
tomorrow.’

‘If the Adjutant ignores the correct
channels, I don’t know what he expects other officers to do,’ said Gwatkin.

He laughed, as if he found some relief
in the thought that the whole framework of the Company, as we had known it
together, was now to be broken up; not, so to speak, given over unimpaired to
the innovations of Kedward. There was no doubt, I saw now, that Gwatkin would
have preferred almost anyone, rather than Kedward, to succeed him.

‘Idwal will get either Phillpots or
Parry in your place, I expect,’ he said.

He began to fiddle with his papers
again. I turned to go. Gwatkin looked up suddenly.

‘Doing anything special tonight?’ he
said.

‘No.’

‘Come for a stroll in the park.’

‘After Mess?’

‘Yes.’

‘All right.’

I went off to pack, and make such
other preparations as were required for departure the following day. Gwatkin
came into dinner late. I was already sitting in the ante-room when he joined
me.

‘Shall we go?’

‘Right.’

We left the house by the steps leading
to what remained of the lawn, its turf criss-crossed now with footpaths worn by
the feet of soldiers taking short cuts. Shrubberies divided the garden from the
park. When we were among the trees, Gwatkin took the way leading to Lady Caro’s
Dingle. After the heat of the afternoon, these woods were wonderfully cool and
peaceful. The moon was full, the sky almost as light as day. Now that I was
about to leave Castlemallock, I began to regret having spent so little time in
this park. All I knew was the immediate neighbourhood of the house. To have
frequented its woods and glades would perhaps have only increased the
melancholy inherent in the place.

‘Do you know, Nick,’ said Gwatkin, ‘although
the Company used to mean everything to me, it’s leaving the Battalion that’s
the real blow. Of course there will be up-to-date training at the ITC,
opportunity to get to know the latest weapons and tactics thoroughly, not just
rush through them and instruct, as we have to here.’

I did not know what to say to that,
but Gwatkin was just getting it off his chest. He did not require answers.

‘Idwal is pretty pleased with himself
now,’ he said. ‘Let him see what it’s like to be skipper. Perhaps it isn’t as
easy as he thinks.’

‘Idwal certainly enjoys the idea of
being a company commander.’

‘Then there’s Maureen,’ Gwatkin said. ‘This
means leaving her. That was what I wanted to talk to you about.’

I had supposed that to be the reason
for our coming to the park.

‘You’ll at least have time to say
goodbye to her.’

That did not sound much consolation.
It seemed to me he was well rid of Maureen, if she really was disturbing him to
the extent that it appeared; but being judicious about other people’s love
affairs is easy, often merely a sign one has not understood their force or
complexity.

‘I’m going to try and get down there
tomorrow,’ he said, ‘take her out for the evening.’

‘Have you been seeing much of her?’

‘Quite a bit.’

‘It’s bad luck.’

‘I know I’ve made a bloody fool of
myself,’ Gwatkin said, ‘but I don’t know that I’d do different if I started
again. Anyway, it isn’t quite over.’

‘What isn’t?’

‘Maureen.’

‘In what way?’

‘Nick—’

‘Yes?’

‘She’s pretty well said – you know—’

‘She has?’

‘I believe if I can manage to see her
tomorrow – but I don’t want to talk about it. She can’t make up her mind, you
see. I understand that.’

I thought of Dicky Umfraville’s
comment: ‘Not tonight, darling, I don’t love you enough – not tonight, darling,
I love you too much …’ It sounded as if Gwatkin had had his share of such
reservations. As we walked, his mind continually jumped from one aspect of his
vexations to another.

‘If I’m at the ITC and there’s an
invasion,’ he said, ‘I’ll at least be nearer the scene of action than here. I
don’t think the Germans will try this country, do you? There’d be no difficulty
in landing here, but it would mean mounting another operation after their
arrival.’

‘Hardly worth it, I’d have thought.’

‘Idwal didn’t take long to get hold of
the idea he was to command the Company.’

‘He certainly did not.’

‘Do you remember my saying what we
call good manners are just a form of weakness?’

‘Very well.’

‘I suppose if that’s true, Idwal was
right to speak as he did.’

‘There’s a lot to be said for going
straight to the point.’

‘But that’s what I’ve always tried to
do since I’ve been in the army,’ Gwatkin said. ‘It doesn’t seem to have worked
in my case. Here I am being sent back to the ITC as a dud. It’s not because I
haven’t been keen, or slacked in any way – except I know I forgot about those
bloody codewords – and other people make balls-ups too.’

He spoke without self-pity, just lack
of understanding; deep desire to know the answer why, so far as he was
concerned, things had gone so wrong. It would be no good attempting to explain.
I was not even sure I knew the explanation myself. All Gwatkin said was true.
He had worked hard. In many respects he was a good officer, so far as he went.
He was even conscious of such moral aspects of military life as the fact that
the army is a world of the will, accordingly, if the will is weak, the army is
weak. I could see, however, that one of the fallacies that made him so
vulnerable was the supposition that manners, good or bad, had anything to do
with the will as such.

‘I loved commanding the Company,’
Gwatkin said. ‘Don’t you enjoy your Platoon, Nick?’

‘I might have once. I don’t know. It’s
too late now. That’s certain. Thirty men are merely a responsibility without
the least compensatory feeling of power. They only need everlasting looking
after.’

‘Do you really feel that?’ he said,
astonished. ‘When the war broke out, I was thrilled at the thought I might lead
men into action. I suppose I may yet. This could be only a temporary set-back.’

He laughed unhappily. By this time we
were approaching the dingle, a glade enclosed by a kind of shrubbery. A large
stone seat was on one side of it, ornamental urns set on plinths at either end.
All at once there was a sound of singing.

‘Arm in arm together,
Just like we used to be,
Stepping out along with you
Meant all the world to me …’

It was a man’s voice, a familiar one.
The song, recalling old fashioned music-hall tunes of fifty years before, was,
in fact, contemporary to that moment, popular among the men, perhaps, on
account of such nostalgic tones and rhythm. The singing stopped abruptly. A
woman began giggling and squeaking. Gwatkin and I paused.

‘One of our fellows?’ he said.

‘It sounds to me like Corporal Gwylt.’

‘I believe you’re right.’

‘Let’s have a look.’

We skirted the dingle by way of a
narrow path among the bushes, stepping quietly through the undergrowth that
surrounded the glade. On the stone seat a soldier and a girl were sprawled in a
long embrace. The soldier’s arm bore two white stripes. The back of the huge
head was unmistakably that of Corporal Gwylt. We watched for a moment. Suddenly
Gwatkin gave a start. He drew in his breath.

‘Christ,’ he said very quietly.

He began to pick his way with great
care through the shrubs and laurels. I followed him. I was not at first aware
why he was moving so soon, nor that something had upset him. I thought his
exclamation due to the scratch of a thorn, or remembrance of some additional
item to be supervised before handing over the Company. When we were beyond the
immediate outskirts of the dingle, he began walking quickly. He did not speak
until we were on the path leading back to the house.

‘You saw who the girl was?’

‘No.’

‘Maureen.’

‘God, was she?’

There was absolutely no comment to
make. This was even more unanswerable than the news that Gwatkin had been
superseded in his command. If you are in love with a woman – and Gwatkin was
undoubtedly in love – you can recognise her a mile off. The fact that I myself
had failed to identify Maureen in the evening light did not make Gwatkin’s
certainty in the least suspect. The statement
could be accepted as correct.

‘Corporal Gwylt,’ he said. ‘Could you
believe it?’

‘It was Gwylt all right.’

‘What do you think of it?’

‘There’s nothing to say.’

‘Rolling about with him.’

‘They were certainly in a clinch.’

‘Well, say something.’

‘Gwylt ought to pray more to Mithras.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know – the Kipling poem – “keep
us pure till the dawn”.’

‘My God,’ said Gwatkin, ‘you’re bloody
right.’

He began to laugh. That was one of the
moments when I felt I had not been wrong in thinking there was some style about
him. We reached the house, parting without further discussion on either side,
though Gwatkin had again laughed loudly from time to time. I made my way up the
rickety stairs of the stable. The light was out in the bedroom, the blackout
down from the window, through which moonlight shone on to the floor. This would
usually have meant Kedward was asleep. However, as I came through the door, he
sat up in bed.

‘You’re late, Nick.’

‘I went for a walk in the park with
Rowland.’

‘Is he browned off?’

‘Just a shade.’

‘I couldn’t get to sleep,’ Kedward
said. ‘Never happened to me before. I suppose I’m so bloody pleased to get
command of the Company. I keep on having new ideas about running it. I was
thinking, I’ll probably get Phillpots or Parry in your place, now that you’re
going up to Div.’

‘Phillpots is a nice chap to work
with.’

‘Parry is the better officer,’ said
Kedward.

He turned over, in due course going to
sleep, I suppose, in spite of these agitations induced by the prospect of
power. For a time I thought about Gwatkin, Gwylt and Maureen, then went to
sleep myself. The following day there were farewells to be said. I undertook
these in the afternoon.

‘I hear you’re leaving the Battalion
too, Sergeant-Major.’

‘That I am, sir.’

‘I expect you’re sorry to go.’

‘I am that, sir, and then I’m not.
Nice to see home again, that will be, but there needs promotion for these
younger lads that must be getting on.’