CHAPTER XI
AN INTERVIEW WITH THE C.O.
IT was close on midnight when Setley and his two companions rejoinedtheir battalion. Although the distance was not far every foot of theway was beset with perils, for in spite of the heavier fire from theBritish guns the Germans were systematically searching the groundthat had been wrested from them during the day. Every shell hole wasnow a miniature lake, covered with a thin coating of ice. A slip onthe steeply sloping edge and the incautious wight would find himselfout of his depth in icy cold water.
The trio met a continuous procession of wounded, most of them havingto be carried by their comrades or else on stretchers or sleighs;prisoners, too, who had been humanely kept under cover until darknessfell lest they should be shot down by their own guns, were beingherded across the open--gaunt and hungry men who seemed glad to beout of the fighting.
Ration and supply parties, units of ammunition columns passed to andfro, for the firing line had to be fed and provided with bombs andcartridges. Except for the absence of lights the traffic remindedRalph of the Great North Road on the night of Barnet Fair, with thedifference that the predominant colour-scheme was khaki everywhere.
"Hullo, you chaps!" called out a private of the same section,recognizing the three returning Tommies. "Thought you'd been done in.You're marked down as missing. Grub? I've a pannikin on the charcoalfire, and there are some rashers. You've been into the lines ofcommunication? Heard anything of our being relieved?"
"Not a word," rejoined Ralph, taking possession of a thin cup inwhich the tea leaves from the last drinker were still in evidence.Setley had forgotten to be particular in such matters. "Where'sSergeant Ferris?"
"Blown to bits," said the other nonchalantly. "We didn't get ourpromised share of goose," he added regretfully. "Suppose we are luckyto get bacon."
The Wheatshires had suffered heavily in the charge. Most of theofficers had either been killed or wounded, while forty per cent ofthe rank and file were out of action. Although they had succeeded inoccupying two of the three trenches their failure to reach theirobjective was galling to the men. Elsewhere the general plan ofoperations had been successful, and now the battle-worn Wheatshireswere consoled with the knowledge that the Huns on their immediatefront were in a position that formed a dangerous salient. Either theywould have to give back or risk almost certain chance of beingsurrounded and compelled to surrender.
Dog-tired and bitterly cold, Setley followed the example of his chumsand threw himself down on the fire-step to sleep. Shelter in dug-outthere was none, for so heavy had been the British bombardment thatthe remaining shelters were in such a dangerous state that the menwere cautioned not to make use of them.
The constant passing of laden men along the narrow trench, theceaseless roar of heavy guns, and the intermittent rattle ofmachine-gun fire failed to keep Ralph awake, yet it seemed as if hehad been asleep but a few minutes when he was aroused by a handshaking him roughly by the shoulder.
"Turn out, mate," exclaimed Ginger. "We're being relieved. Thebloomin' Downshires are movin' into the trenches."
Setley bestirred himself. Fully equipped he rolled off the fire-stepinto a foot of mud and slush that formed the floor of the trench. Ifthe Huns had had boards they had vanished--probably smashed to atomsor else covered with debris from the sides of the trench with theviolent concussion of the bombardment.
"Wake that man up!" ordered an officer, indicating a dim form. Theman was dead, shot in his sleep. Ralph remembered that the unluckyfellow had asked him to move along and give him room. Had Setley notdone so the probability was that he would be lying cold andmotionless.
Silently the depleted battalion moved along the narrow trench, andwith equal caution the goat-skin-clad Downshires filed into thevacated position. It was now snowing heavily, but the Wheatshirespaid scant heed to the climatic conditions. They were like schoolboysoff for a holiday.
"Hurrah for a good hot bath!" exclaimed Ralph when the men arrived atthe rest-billets. In the trenches he had endured cold, dirt, and allthe horrors of a confined deep ditch of wet clay with a sort offatalism; but now the innate desire for cleanliness reasserteditself.
One of four hundred men, all in a state of _puris naturalibus_,Setley was ordered to double along a narrow plank gangway. Under onearm he carried his uniform. Under the other two bundles, onecontaining his personal effects, the other his underclothing.
At the end of the gangway were three separate sheds, with a sort ofcounter across the open doors. As each man passed the first he threwin his uniform, receiving in exchange a metal disc. At the second heparted company with his personal effects, again taking up a metaltoken. The third but received his underclothing.
Thence the Tommies entered a large building in which were rows oftubs filled with hot water. Laughing, shouting, and cracking jokesthe men revelled in the rare luxury, until the stern admonition ofthe non-com. to "get a move on" reminded them that there is an end toall good things, not omitting bathing parades.
Again the procession was re-formed, and at the double the men hurriedalong another corridor, passing the other end of the buildings inwhich their belongings had been deposited.
Each soldier received a change of underclothing at the first hut, hispersonal gear at the second, and his uniform, steam-cleaned andliberally coated with insect powder at the third. With the regularityof clockwork the battalion was thus furbished up for its stay at therest-billet--a striking testimony to the efficient organization andto the care and attention given to the troops after their arduouswork in the firing line.
"Private Setley!"
The gruff voice of the platoon sergeant brought Ralph to a halt.
"You're wanted at the orderly-room at three p.m.," continued thesergeant. "An' don't you forget it."
"Say, sergeant----"
"Well?"
"Do you know what I'm wanted for?"
"Dunno, me lad; you'll find out when you are told an not a minutebefore."
Ralph received the message with certain misgivings. The word"orderly-room" had an unpleasant significance. Vainly he racked hisbrains to try to remember if he had done anything for which he mightbe "crimed." Then, perhaps, it might be that he was to be detailedfor clerical work. Perish the suggestion! He had had enough of thatat the bank. He hadn't come out to the Front to follow the irksomeroutine of doing orderly-room correspondence.
At the hour Ralph reported himself and was brought before the colonelof the Wheatshires.
The C.O. lost no time in coming to the point,
"I've had a report concerning you," he began. "I understand that youwere in charge of a small squad, that you rushed a machine-gunemplacement, and that you rendered material assistance under heavyfire to a disabled Tank. The officer making the report states thatyou behaved with admirable bravery, intelligence, and discretionunder highly dangerous circumstances."
The colonel placed the paper on his desk and searched amongst a pileof documents for another. Setley, in the meanwhile, stood rigidly atattention, inwardly ill at ease. He had merely done his duty. Thesubsequent eulogy from his C.O., although highly gratifying, quitebewildered him.
"Let me see," continued the colonel, glancing over Ralph's "historysheet." "You've served a hundred and fifty-six days with the Colours.You have never been crimed. Your occupation, previous to enlisting,was banking?"
"Yes, sir," replied Ralph.
"Where were you educated?"
Setley told him, mentioning the name of a well-known West-countryschool. The C.O. nodded approval.
"Wonder why he wants to know that?" thought the lad.
He was not long left in doubt.
"You have been recommended for a commission, Private Setley," resumedthe C.O. "I have much pleasure in stating my opinion that you are inevery respect fitted to take up commissioned rank. Being recommended,of course, does not necessarily mean that you will get it, but in allprobability you will. ...I wish you the best of luck."
"Thank you, sir," replied Ralp
h.
The colonel made an annotation on the margin of the report.
"In the event of your obtaining this commission," he went on, "haveyou any particular choice of a regiment? The decision is entirely inthe hands of the Army Council, you understand, but as far aspracticable the wishes of the individual concerned is taken intoconsideration."
"Must it be a Line regiment, sir?"
"Unless you have special qualifications for any other branch of theService."
"I would like to try for the Tank Section, sir."
The colonel raised his bushy eyebrows.
"Dash it all!" he ejaculated. "You aim high, young man. However,since you gained distinction in the Tank affair, perhaps your wisheswill be gratified. Meanwhile, if you take my advice you'll keep thismatter strictly to yourself as far as your comrades are concerned."
The colonel nodded dismissal. Ralph saluted and left the presence ofthe commanding officer.
He felt as if he were treading on air. He could hardly realize hisgood fortune. It seemed like a dream that would be rudely dispelledwith the dawn. He wanted to pinch himself to be certain that he wasreally awake.
On his way back to his billet he encountered Private Anderson lookingsmarter than he had ever been known before. Ginger's boots shonebrightly, despite the "dubbin" under the polish. His buttons, a fewhours previously dull and tarnished by the clammy air of the trenchesand the chemical effect of the bursting shells, now glitteredresplendent in the sunshine. His reddish moustache had been brushedand coaxed into a certain state of subservience, although subduingthe stubbly bristles had taken the private almost an hour of hardwork. His cap was tilted on the back of his head revealing awell-oiled and studiously arranged "quiff" of fiery-tinted hair.
"Wot cheer, mate!" exclaimed George. "Where 'ave you been?"
"Orderly-room," replied Ralph.
"Blimey, that's where I'm off to," rejoined Anderson. "Your pal thehacter bloke is warned too. It's abart that bloomin' Tank business.Ain't this yere child correct?"
"It is," assented Setley.
"I knowed it," declared Ginger with conviction. "Wot did yer get?"
"The colonel complimented me," replied Ralph tactfully.
"That all? Blow me tight! I was reckonin' on 'aving seven days'special leave an' a free ticket to Blighty an' back."
Ginger walked away, his step a little less jaunty than before.
At tea-time the three comrades met. Ginger was radiant.
"The old man 'e told me I was a bloomin' corporal, and that I was to'ave the bloomin' D.C.M.," he reported.
"'Any chance of getting back to Blighty on leave just ter show memedal off, sir?' I asked; an' blow me if 'e didn't get theorderly-room sergeant to make me a pass straight away. I'm offto-night, an' chance me arm over them U-boats. 'E's a toff is thecolonel."
"And he thought fit to bestow a sergeant's chevrons on your humble,"announced Alderhame. "The distinction of the D.C.M. is also thrown inas a makeweight."
"Congratulations, both of you," said Ralph heartily.
"Thanks; and what did you get?" asked Alderhame pointedly.
"'E swears 'e only got complimented," interjected Ginger. "All mybloomin eye, eh, wot?"
Alderhame winked solemnly.
"Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice," he quoted. "I canguess--you lucky young dog!"