The Battle Done by David Alan

Author:David, Alan [David, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-02-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

EDDIE was awakened the next morning by the rough voice of the company orderly sergeant. He lay for a moment regaining his scattered senses, his eyes still closed. He could hear Smith talking softly to Newman, and Lloyd was asking for Corporal Rawlings. Then full realisation returned to him and he sat up and jumped out of bed.

‘Where’s Arthur?’ he demanded.

‘He’s gone to see how Wally is.’ Smith bent and laced up his boots. He couldn’t bring himself to look Eddie in the eyes. ‘He’s been gone ten minutes.’

‘Why didn’t he call me?’ Eddie dressed hurriedly. He didn’t wash or shave, and pulled his beret upon his uncombed head.

‘Put on your web belt,’ called Smith. ‘There’s sure to be an M.P. in the village.’

Eddie hurried out. At least they hadn’t sent for Arthur during the night, he thought. That was surely a good sign. He half thought that he would find Wally sitting up in bed this morning, laughing and talking about how he would escape going back to the front. Broken ribs weren’t so bad, if you remembered wounds like Sid Heywood’s, and others. Broken ribs would heal.

The Aid Post was quiet in the early morning. Eddie saw some fatigue men digging holes in the field opposite the Post, and he realised that they were digging graves. Poor devils, he thought. Now he could feel full pity for the wounded and dead. Death and injury had crept closer to him during the night. It had become more personal. He went into the building. Arthur was standing just inside the door.

‘How is he, Arthur?’

Arthur turned quickly. His haggard face creased into a fleeting smile that quickly vanished. ‘An orderly has gone to find out.’

They stood then in silence, each hoping and worrying, alone in their preoccupation. The orderly appeared. His face was expressionless, his manner detached, remote.

‘You can go in and see him. Who’s this?’

‘Another brother,’ said Arthur.

‘Follow me.’

‘He’s not too badly hurt, is he?’ Eddie could contain himself no longer. ‘You’ve just seen him, mate. How is he?’

‘I only work here,’ the orderly replied. ‘I ain’t the M.O. In here.’

They followed him into a room. There were seven occupied stretchers on the floor, and Eddie stared aghast as he looked round. The orderly pointed to a stretcher as he stepped aside for them to enter.

‘That’s him.’

They crossed the room fearfully and crouched beside their brother. Wally was unconscious. His face was colourless, and the skin looked strangely waxen. For one awful moment Eddie thought Wally was dead. Then he saw the very faint movement of breathing. He stared helplessly. Arthur looked across at him.

‘He looks bad, Eddie.’

‘He’ll be all right. It’s shock that makes him look bad.’ Eddie turned and looked at the orderly. ‘How badly is he hurt?’ he asked. ‘Has he come round yet?’

The orderly’s hard face relaxed for a moment, but hardened again as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this, chum,’ he said tonelessly. ‘But these are the hopeless cases. There’s nothing anyone can do for them.

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