Vicissitudes of War by Darrell Duthie

Author:Darrell Duthie [Duthie, Darrell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Esdorn Editions
Published: 2020-08-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

24th of January, 1917

Château de Hermaville, Hermaville, France

‘I read your report,’ said the colonel evenly. We were in a lovely second-floor room of the château, the frost-covered trees outside visible from any one of three imposing windows. He sat relaxed, his hands clasped together on his desk. I stood before him “at ease”, feeling anything but, concentrating on such immediate priorities as breathing.

‘Sir?’ Seldom had I polished my buttons and buffed my uniform as I had today.

‘It was quite a success the raid.’

‘Oh, yes, sir. More than a hundred enemy casualties all told. For obvious reasons we couldn’t count them all, but from what I witnessed I don’t think it’s an unreasonable estimate.’

‘Their trenches were a mess, you wrote? I find that impossible to imagine.’

‘As did I, sir. But while their trenches were a shambles, their dug-outs were first rate. Which I guess leads to the most important lesson.’

At this I saw I had Hayter’s full attention. ‘Go on, Lieutenant,’ he said.

‘No matter how heavy the barrage, there’s no way our artillery can touch them in those deep dug-outs, sir. We could shower them with high explosive for a week. And even with the new fuses they’re still invulnerable.’

‘A lesson, you said?’

Thoughtfully I bit my lip, wondering whether I should continue pressing forward. But I’d already committed. Hayter was drumming his fingers on the desk, watching.

‘It’s another example of what we saw at the Somme, sir. Not forgetting about the French experience. It seems obvious that the only way we can take trenches like these are if we can catch the Boche still in their dug-outs. Of course that means the infantry and artillery must coordinate like never before; our men need to be at the dug-out entrances before the last shell is fired.’

‘Hmm,’ said Hayter noncommittally. ‘Anything else?’

‘Alternatively, we could schedule all our attacks at breakfast, sir. That might work.’

The colonel blinked, the drumming of his fingers stopped, and he glanced at me sharply. He had his mouth open, on the verge of replying, when to the rear I heard the hinges of the door squeak. Hayter’s whole posture stiffened. If you’re a lieutenant-colonel that can signify only one thing, so I followed his lead.

‘Oh, don’t let me interrupt,’ said General Lipsett. ‘Continue as you were, gentlemen.’

A wry grin came to Colonel Hayter’s face. ‘The lieutenant was just explaining the strategic importance of breakfast,’ he said.

‘Was he now?’

With that there was nothing for it but to repeat my whole account in considerably more detail. I didn’t expect the general had read my report. As a precautionary measure I omitted any references to breakfast.

‘Most interesting,’ said Lipsett when I was done. His face gave nothing away. But nor was I being peremptorily dismissed, so it seemed a reason for cautious optimism. There hadn’t been many of those this past week.

After an interval the general glanced at the colonel and the colonel glanced at the general. General Lipsett said: ‘Have you told him?’

Hayter shook his head.

‘Well, I’ll leave you then. Thank you, Lieutenant.

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