D Company was immediately behind him, jumping into the trench and settling down.
“Up! Rapid aimed fire! Sights to one hundred yards! Fire!”
Sergeant Grace appeared from his right.
“Sir!”
“Sixty-one men for the Company, Sergeant. Get a runner back for ammunition, they only have sixty rounds apiece. You are senior NCO. Have we got a spare rifle?”
“Pinched one a couple of days back, sir. I’ll get it to you at soonest.”
Grace ran.
Richard had noted that the old sergeant’s face was grey, showing too much unbroken effort for too many weeks. He would have to go back soon, but was too valuable to lose… He would die of heart failure if he kept up his current efforts. A week or two and he must go, but not yet, there was nobody to replace him.
The additional sixty rifles broke the German attack. They were in the open, perfect targets for competent riflemen. Richard noticed that they kept their discipline as they withdrew; it was not a rout.
Sergeant Grace came back with the rifle and webbing and pouches.
“Well done, Sergeant. Feels more comfortable with this to hand. Have we got shovels?”
“Forty for the battalion, sir. Most of them Germans carry little folding shovels, sir. Some of them got almost up to the trench, sir, first attack.”
“Get a party out to grab them while they’re still reorganising. Quickly.”
Ten minutes saw a dozen shovels retrieved and put to work, deepening and widening the trench.
“Get a wooding party down to the copse behind us. Firewood, as much as possible. Can’t exist without tea. I want a dugout as soon as possible to store company ammunition reserves, Sergeant Grace. We need to organise the new men into their platoons as well.”
“In hand, sir. You need an orderly if we are to stay in a trenchline, sir. Always useful to have a runner.”
“New man, Sergeant. O’Grady – he’s been a sergeant in his time and saw service in the Boer War. Put him up as soon as there’s a vacancy. For the while, he can work to me.”
“Good. We need to have one or two men ready to go up. Ekins and Abbott are good at their job but they take too many risks trying to look after their people. Still Terriers in their minds, sir, looking after their neighbours and all that.”
“Try to bring them on, Sergeant. If they survive, they will be the sort we want as sergeants. I’ve got two corporals and two lances in the draft, but I don’t know them yet. Keep an eye on the lieutenants – they seem to be good enough. Did you ever hear anything of Lieutenant Smithers, by the way?”
“Not official like, sir.”
Richard raised an eyebrow – he knew he must not ask to be given the other ranks’ buzz. All must be kept to the status of rumour accidentally overheard so that he could tell any court of inquiry that he ‘knew’ nothing.
“What I sort of heard, sir, was that he got about three miles back with the walking wounded and two of them had to stop for a break, being too much for them, hurt as they were. He tried to pull rank then, ordered the party to march on and leave them as they was slowing everybody down. Then, what happened, sir, as close as I can get it, is there was a bit of a misunderstanding and one of them what still had his rifle shot at one of them airyplanes what was flying over them and somehow the bullet hit poor Mr Smithers. Blew his head off, sir. Tragic it was. Then they picked up the two men and took it in turns to carry them in.”
“Least said, soonest mended, Sergeant Grace.”
“That’s what I say, sir. It’s not as if he was a loss to the battalion, sir. Been a scandal if he’d been put before a court and shot, what he would have been most likely. Better off this way.”
“So it is. No report made, I presume?”
“None, sir.”
“Keep it that way. Does the Colonel know?”
“Doubt it, sir.”
“I’ll tell him one day – but not yet. Let it get cold before he hears anything.”
“’Missing believed killed’, that will do for him, sir.”
“Could be any of us before too long, Sergeant. Can we hold here, do you think?”
“If we get more men, sir, more battalions into the line, then yes. There’s a line forming north and south of us. That’s why they was trying to push through, sir. If they can’t break us here this week, they ain’t going any further.”
“Good. Keep the men digging. If we get deep enough, get them to cut out little dugouts for sleeping.”
A carrying party brought up ten thousand rounds for the company that afternoon and extra cold rations. An hour later another fatigue party carried in dixies of warm mutton stew – it had been hot when it left the field kitchens.
“Bloody awful food, Willoughby, but better than none. Eat up, man! You can’t fight hungry.”
The young lieutenant’s face showed an appreciation of the horrors of war.
There were attacks on the following day, but almost half-hearted as if the Germans were slowly accepting that their big push to the coast had failed.
A party of engineers came in late afternoon.
“Got a coil of barbed wire, Captain. Show you how to set the posts and fix a couple of lines in front of your trench. Pickaxes and shovels and sledgehammers for the posts, as well. Get used to it, sir – going to be a lot of wire before too long. We are to show you how to build a company machine gun position as well. There will be a Vickers team added in the next few days. You are lucky here, Captain, being up on a bit of a ridgeline. Most of the Front is on low ground – the trenches full of mud; you’ve only got six inches underfoot and that’s nothing compared to most. You can cut ditches to drain your trench. Make the best of it – you’re going to be here for a long time!”
A fortnight and they had settled in, were attempting to make themselves comfortable. Each platoon had its dugout, a little cave with a wooden and corrugated iron roof under four feet of dirt, so that half of the men could sleep under cover while the remainder were on duty. They had collected a substantial amount of firewood, were able to keep the tea kettles boiling and warm their hands at least when off duty.
Richard sat back in the officers’ dugout, tea in hand.
“Home from home, gentlemen. We can expect to be here for a month or two, I would imagine, a little longer perhaps. It will take a few weeks to put together a force of guns and foot to make a breakthrough and let the cavalry loose behind the German lines. Probably best not attempted in midwinter, so April or May of ’15 before we bring it to an end! Six months to victory, gentlemen!”
They toasted their inevitable success in army tea, knowing that the worst was over; the next stage must be a walkover.
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 Andrew Wareham
KINDLE Edition
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