A Longer War 23

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CHAPTER 23
That stunned me, but it also confirmed the realisation that I had slowly been coming to: I just didn’t see things, didn’t spot what was obvious to others. Rodney had said it, asking if I didn’t have eyes to see, and there it was, so bloody simple.

I remembered those times Bob had held me, keeping the nightmares away, and asked myself if he had been looking for an opportunity to do whatever it was men like him did, and part of me recoiled while another slapped me, hard. This was Bob. He may have been like that, but he wasn’t like THAT. His hands on my haul strap, throwing me out of the hatch before our old home brewed up, the slap and direct orders when my mind went away under fire, that was the real Bob.

“Rodney, you don’t think, do you, that he was just, you know, looking for opportunity?”

Sad, watery eyes held mine. “You would think that of him, Gerald? Really?”

I felt my jaw muscles tighten. “No, not at all. Just, I am beginning to realise how bloody thick I am”

He reached across to squeeze my shoulder. “You are far from stupid, dear boy, but you are profoundly innocent, and possessed of a remarkable generosity of spirit, rare among soldiers”

“That wasn’t something I chose, was it? Not like Bob, and yourself, begging your pardon”

“Oh, absolutely so. My father was always determined that I would take a commission, but rather less than delighted when I decided to follow the automotive trade rather than become, what was it? A donkey-walloper?”

His eyes went back to the mantelpiece and the photos it carried. “He went three years ago, my boy. Mama…”

He paused again. “Do you desire children, you and your young lady, Gerald?”

“Tricia. Aye, I suppose we do that. Always seemed proper way, leave something of ourselves behind, like”

“Yes… This place has been ours, the family’s, for a very long time. Father stayed here, as the eldest, and brought Mama home when they were married. I was their sole progeny, and thus, well, Mama and my Eva…”

Once more, he looked over at the mantelpiece, and I hesitantly asked “Was it the Blitz, Rodney?” and he sighed, shaking his head.

“No, Gerald, it was broad daylight, and I rather suspect for sport. Eva was very modern, and was driving Mama home from Dover, where they gave of their time in the hospital. Jerry had been firing some of those very large rounds across from France, so they had worked all day, and they were just passing near one of the mining villages here---there is coal-mining to the East of this house, and driving through the villages avoided having to use the main road, and this was a day when a flight of Messerschmitts decided to raid the area. They did that ever so often, you see, just pop in at low level, see what they could destroy, and then trot off home. What they got that day was the shooting brake, Mama and my wife. I’ve maintained a certain distaste for Germans ever since. That… establishment we helped to cleanse, that was merely confirmation”

“It killed Harry, that place”

“Yes. That was an awful time, for all of us. Oh, yes: remember that chap you saw captured up towards Denmark?”

“The one they had naked? Aye. Hanged by Poles, weren’t he?”

“Indeed. They used a short-drop gallows just for him”

“Short drop?”

“Our hangmen have tables, dear boy, to calculate weight, drop, length of rope, to snap the neck SNICK, just like that. The poles didn’t bother with that, they just hung him up to die. That, dear boy, is rather how I feel about Jerry. Rather difficult to let bygones be, yes?”

I realised George had been gone for some time only when he returned, such was the depth of the memories Rodney was bringing back. I was shaken out of it by the sound of the telephone ringing. Beattie came to the door.

“Beg pardon, Major, but it’s some gentleman called Ernest Roberts”

“Thank you, my dear. I shall be with you immediately. Gerald?”

He took the handset and managed to find a cheerful mood from somewhere. “Ernest! Dear boy, how delightful to hear your voice! If it were only under less unpleasant circumstances. Now, may I assume your call concerns dear Robert? Yes?”

“Ah, I see. Gerald is with me, beside me as we speak. They have sent him to Colchester, Gerald, to the military prison there to await trial. Yes? In one week, dear boy. Ernest? I am sorry, I was bringing Gerald up to date with the situation. Now, will you be able to join us? NONSENSE! I have the necessary funds, and more”

I couldn’t hear Ernie’s voice, but the buzz from the telephone sounded more heated, and then the old officer just said, loudly and firmly, “Private Roberts!”

A few seconds of silence. “My apologies, Ernest, Ernie, but there is no place here for pride. We have a comrade, a brother, who desperately needs our aid, and as I am the one who is in possession of the necessary funds, it falls to me to pay the lion’s share. I know an inn there, and I shall send you a railway ticket by post. Gerald and I will drive up there tomorrow or, well, not tomorrow. It will be the day after. We will see what condition our friend is in, and I will establish who has been appointed as his counsel and then instruct them in clear terms to fuck off. I have decided that his defence will be in the hands of a friend, a comrade, a brother. We will give of our best, and you will not argue from a stiff-necked and inappropriate sense of pride, do you hear?”

That was far more the Mr Nolan I remembered, and I felt my own pride lifting. If this man felt that he was in his own words my comrade, friend and brother, then I was worth something even more than Tricia saw. He finished his call with true warmth of feeling, and then called to his maid once more.

“Beattie! I will need my Number 2 ready for travel. Please ask Docherty to make sure my shoes and belt are adequately appropriate for the occasion, and Gillie to ensure the Morgan is running properly”

“Yes, Major. Cook asks if lamb will be acceptable for this evening”

“Certainly. May we have three bottles of the ’36 Chateauneuf ready for the dinner?”

“Yes, Major”

He turned back to me. “I have a small staff here, just four in total. I have some slight difficulties with, well, the missing wing, and employment is not always easy to find in this area. Apart from mining, of course, and agriculture. Our family has always been somewhere for people to come to in need. Alas… I have no heir, and so only the good Lord knows what will happen when I depart this world”

“Not now, Rodney. Not time for talk like that. We have a ---friend, comrade, brother, weren’t it? See him as safe as we can, and then worry about rest of life”

He grinned suddenly, and years and cares fell from his face. “Our friend chose well, I see, and saw the grace you hold in your heart, dear boy. I can never accept his nature, but I could never find fault with his taste. Now, I am sure you will want to freshen yourself, and unpack your things as necessary, for that is George without, if my hearing does not deceive me. Yes, here he is”

The policeman had my bag, a ten shilling note, and a grin. “Had to work hard for that one, Major! She don’t change, our Irene! Hilda says she would be delighted to come over this evening, and says that she is not going to be told no, and she is not belittling your cook, but she will be bringing bread and butter pudding, and can you ask cook to have some custard ready for it?”

The life was steadily returning to Rodney’s face, and laughter came with it. “Dear boy, I can think of few desserts that would be finer than Hilda’s bread and butter. Tell her it will be lamb tonight, so we would ask that she brings some of her excellent mint sauce as well”

I sat in my room ten minutes later, laying out my clothes and wondering what I could wear for Bob. Another ten minutes, and I was on the phone again to Cyril, and my uniform was being packed ready for Ernie to bring down. I might not have a Docherty to bull my boots, but I had two Dads and Ernie.

Dinner was wonderful, the lamb tender, the pudding delicious, and George’s wife Hilda cheeky and funny at the same time. It was about two thirty in the morning when the anti-tank round hit the turret.

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Word pictures....

Andrea Lena's picture

He grinned suddenly, and years and cares fell from his face. “Our friend chose well, I see, and saw the grace you hold in your heart, dear boy. I can never accept his nature, but I could never find fault with his taste. You are such a fine story teller! Thank you.

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Not worthiness ....

Excellent work, Steph. Truly magnificent.

not_worthy.gif

Somehow I can see the Major

Somehow I can see the Major teaching a few others to never f*** with his troops. This is a sign of a true leader who is beloved by his men, regardless of rank or position they may have or do hold.

Nightmare?

I'm assuming that this was a reference to another nightmare. Not that it's not traumatic for Gerald, but I don't think the house is burning down around them.

Take care of the troops......

D. Eden's picture

And they'll take care of the mission. A very wise man taught me that when I was still an Ensign, and to this day I still follow that rule. Loyalty flows both up and down, and any commander who fails to show his troops the proper respect and loyalty will receive his just desserts.

The bonds formed in combat are stronger than blood. I will never forget what those few men did for me, nor will I ever forget how much I owe to them and their families. They earned my undying loyalty, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of them and repaying that debt.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Thank you Steph,

You never fail to stir my emotions.Respect is something that you have to earn, not given because of your rank.
As an old Scot once said,"A man is a man for all that " and a good soldier I knew who received a posthumous
Victoria Cross for his gallantry under fire is still mourned by those of us who survived because of his bravery
and by his partner, who was known and respected by us all.

ALISON

Tears To My Eyes

joannebarbarella's picture

It's very rare to see loyalty flow both ways....upwards and downwards. So often we see the loyal workers laid off while their bosses continue to receive multi-million dollar/pound remunerations.

Respect

So many of you have picked up on this one. I wanted to write an Officer, a real one, one who has seen that proverbial elephant. It is one of the reasons I included that terrible Camp in the story, for places like that change everyone who comes into contact with them.

I have always included an article of faith in my work, that people do not stand alone, that family and friends are there, comrades, team mates. I don't want to write about those who have been left alone to fall, or at least as central characters.

My dad said good officers

My dad said good officers could get men to do wonders bad officers got men killed