Tamar (59 page)

Joseph whispered to Lina to wait, then pushed the door to again, leaving an inch through which he peered for the next few minutes. As he glanced at his watch to check the time, he was alerted by the sound of footsteps crunching in the gravel around the side of the building. He stood holding his breath as two soldiers passed, laughing at something Joseph did not catch. As their footsteps receded, he opened the door, checked in both directions and stepped carefully down the wooden steps. Lina and the children followed and they crept along the side of the building until they turned the corner of the wall running parallel with the perimeter fence. Halfway down, they stopped.

Joseph walked rapidly towards the wire, hoping like hell their scrunching footsteps would not be heard. The further away from the shadowed safety of the back of the building they moved, the more wildly his heart pounded. They had about seven minutes.

He grasped two of the lower wires strung four inches apart all the way up the fence, put his foot on the bottom one and violently wrenched the top one up, making a gap of about eighteen inches. He suddenly panicked, realising that while the children would fit
easily, Lina in her long full skirts would not be able to wriggle past the barbs. In desperation, Joseph yanked harder, feeling sweat pop out on his face and the wire bite into his hands. The gap increased by a further inch, but it would still not be enough. Behind him he could hear Lina ripping at her clothes.

‘No!’ he hissed. ‘There isn’t time!’

Not stopping to consider the wisdom of what he was about to do, he squatted, one foot still on the lower wire, put his head and shoulders through the hole, and straightened up as far as he could, forcing the gap open an extra half foot. Straining, he heard his uniform jacket rip as the barbs bit into the fabric. ‘Go!’ he urged over his shoulder.

Lina pushed both children through one after the other, their small bodies easily clearing the wire, followed by the pack, then crouched down, her skirts bunched up around her white thighs. She lowered her head, flattened her back and ducked through. On the other side she hefted the pack over her shoulder then turned back to Joseph, reaching for the top wire so he could release himself.

He was stuck fast, the barbs holding his jacket as viciously as the teeth of a starving dog. ‘Take the jacket off!’ she said. He couldn’t; his webbing was buckled tightly over it, trussing him as securely as a lunatic’s straitjacket. ‘Go!’ he said again. ‘Go, Lina! Now!’

She looked at him for seconds that felt to Joseph like hours, then reached out and touched his lips with her fingers. ‘Goodbye, Joseph Deane,’ she whispered. Then she stood, grasped each child by the hand and ran into the darkness.

Joseph knew the ten minutes were almost up. He felt like a miserable little monkey he had seen on leave, squatting in a cage, a hunched and dejected captive. He closed his eyes and waited for the guards to spot him as he heard footsteps approach.

‘You in the shit, mate?’ asked an amused Australian voice. Joseph couldn’t turn but knew it was Gabriel Lightfoot. He listened as
the Aborigine removed his ragged shirt, then felt him slip into the gap in the fence next to him.

‘When I push up, move forward and unhook yaself, then back out,’ Gabriel directed.

Joseph did just that, releasing himself and landing on his arse inside the fence. Gabriel was still within the wires, the barbs digging into his naked back. As he heaved backwards to extract himself, Joseph winced at the sound of wire scraping on flesh.

‘Fuck,’ said Gabriel mildly as he snatched his shirt off the ground. ‘Let’s go, mate.’

They scrambled for the hospital building just as a shadowy figure turned the corner at the far end of the wall. Joseph and Gabriel didn’t dare breathe. The guard stopped for a moment, had a cursory look around, farted in what he believed was complete anonymity, then walked off again, his heavy footsteps receding.

‘Wondered what you were up to,’ whispered Gabriel as they slunk off in the opposite direction. ‘It were that nurse aid, eh?’

Joseph nodded.

‘Ya silly prick,’ Gabriel admonished. ‘Hope it were worth it.’

‘It was,’ replied Joseph.

In his room he examined Gabriel’s back by candlelight, sickened by the deep scratches torn by the barbed wire. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asked.

‘She’ll be right,’ came the stoic reply.

Joseph did what he could to wipe the blood away.

‘Thanks,’ he said eventually. There was nothing else he could say.

‘No worries, mate.’

Lina’s absence was noticed at eight the next morning when Sister Abercrombie knocked on her door and received no answer. Going in, she saw the room was empty. She knocked on Joseph’s
door next, ignoring the fact he was in his underpants when she opened it without being invited.

‘I suppose you don’t know where Lina Van der Hoeven is?’ she asked.

‘No,’ replied Joseph, reaching for his trousers. ‘Why, is she missing?’

‘It seems so.’ Sister Abercrombie glanced at Joseph’s uniform lying on the floor. ‘Why is the back of your jacket ripped?’

‘Caught it on a nail yesterday.’

Sister Abercrombie stared at Joseph for a moment longer, then left, closing the door behind her.

Joseph cursed himself for not having the sense to shove his torn jacket under the cot. He got dressed slowly, wondering when she’d be back and who she would have with her — guards or the camp commander.

But when Sister Abercrombie returned fifteen minutes later, she was alone. She tossed a khaki jacket onto the cot, picked up the torn one and said, ‘You should be careful, Private Deane. You’ll get into trouble one of these days.’

Joseph lifted the uniform and examined it curiously. ‘It’s a New Zealand one,’ he said. ‘Where did you get it?’

The sister tapped the side of her nose. ‘Don’t ask, son, just put it on. And I suggest you keep out of the way until you’re ready to leave. I’ll have to report Lina Van der Hoeven and her children are missing. It would be more than my job’s worth not to.’

It was sensible advice. There was a furore when the commander was informed. Soldiers were ordered to search the camp, Joseph happily estimating Lina would be miles away by now. Careful not to ask about the missing prisoners, he filled in the morning entertaining the children in the hospital ward and chatting with Gabriel, who would be going home himself in a few days. Neither of them mentioned the escape.

At midday, a provisions wagon arrived at the camp and Joseph caught a lift when it returned to Pretoria. He made his way to the railway station and sat in a bar for several hours until it was time for his train to leave.

The long trip from Pretoria to Cape Town was pleasant enough, although Joseph discovered he had to pay for it himself unless he wanted to ride in the guard van. He opted for the comparative luxury of a carriage but woke during the night slumped over in his seat with a painful crick in his neck. Reflecting that he might have been better off sleeping on mail bags after all, he made a point of disembarking at every opportunity to stretch his legs.

He had twenty-four hours in Cape Town before his ship sailed. The Fourth and Fifth Contingents had also arrived after a rest period at Worcester in Cape Colony, but before joining them Joseph shopped for souvenirs and went sightseeing, riding in a little cart pulled by a barefoot African wearing a spectacular headdress incorporating a huge pair of bullock horns. After lunch he set out to find the New Zealanders, although he didn’t have to look far; most of them had congregated in the hotels.

To his delight he met up with Sergeant Bob Thornton and they embarked on a tour of the town’s bars. The next morning, somewhat worse for wear, the New Zealand contingents made their way to the docks where they spent hours waiting to embark.

The troopship SS
Tagus
sailed later the same day, expecting to arrive in New Zealand in under a month. The seas deteriorated as the ship turned east across the bottom of South Africa and sailed into the southern reaches of the Indian Ocean, but she was able to maintain an average of three hundred and twenty miles a day. This was little consolation to her passengers, who were anxious to be home.

Joseph had plenty of time to reflect on his experiences in South Africa. He came to the ambiguous conclusion, shared by many of
his shipmates, that had he known in advance what it was going to be like he wouldn’t have gone, but given the chance he would probably do it again. He thought about poor John Adams, and Jimmy Malone who would be unable to go back to shearing with only one arm, and wondered if it had been worth it.

The war looked like grinding on for some time yet. The British military commanders were both amazed and profoundly frustrated by the Boers’ tenacity, but refused to go home. The war had been all but won as far as they were concerned, and it certainly looked that way on paper, as all of the major towns in the Transvaal and Orange Free State were under Imperial control, but still the Afrikaners would not surrender. Joseph remembered Lina and smiled.

Towards the end of June the ship called into port at Albany in southern Australia to take on more coal. General leave was granted, giving the troops a welcome respite on shore, although their commanders regretted the liberty by the end of the day and were forced to send military police to round everyone up. Along with almost everyone else, Joseph got into a fight with a crowd of Australian troops and received his first war wound — a broken nose. All shore leave was cancelled and the New Zealanders were confined on board the
Tagus
until she sailed two days later.

That, plus the deteriorating food and the close proximity of home, caused unrest amongst the troops and mutiny was seriously discussed, although nothing came of it. Several days later the ship anchored off Melbourne Heads to take on fresh fruit and vegetables, but only enough for the officers, which rekindled the grumbling and general resentment amongst the enlisted men. So close to home, however, no one considered the insult worth avenging, and they went back to rehashing and embroidering their daring exploits in South Africa, a time-honoured soldiers’ tradition.

By the time the
Tagus
reached Port Chalmers, her passengers were more than ready to disembark. As she moved slowly towards
the docks, the troops heard the faint sounds of a band striking up. They looked at each other and grinned broadly; this was more like the treatment they were expecting as returning heroes. The closer to the docks they came, the more they could see of the gathered crowd. Although not as big as the one which farewelled them, it was nevertheless a sight for sore, tired and homesick eyes. Every man crowded to the shore side, scrambling for a place near the rails.

Joseph squinted but couldn’t see anyone he knew, which didn’t surprise him as there were thousands of people on the dock. He assumed someone would be here to meet him, as he had written advising his father he expected to be on the next troopship. He stepped back and let someone else take his place, then went below to collect his kit. By the time he came back up, the ship had docked and the gangway had been lowered.

The first to disembark were the wounded, and the crowd hushed as a line of stretcher bearers appeared, two men to a litter, and began to file slowly down the gangway. After a decent interval during which the wounded were despatched to waiting ambulances, the crowd erupted into cheers as the first man stepped off the ship.

As his turn came, Joseph found himself being propelled down the gangway towards the crowd. He had still not glimpsed a familiar face, and was wondering how he could possibly locate anyone in the jostling mass of people, when someone yelled his name. He turned to the left and caught sight of his mother waving at him, her lovely, welcoming face dissected by a huge smile. ‘
Joseph
!’ Tamar shrieked in a most unladylike fashion. ‘Over here!’

He raised his hand in answer, the smile on his face matching her own. People stepped aside as he moved towards her, smiling indulgently at their enthusiastic reunion. ‘You’ve
grown
!’ exclaimed Tamar. ‘You’re not a boy any more!’

‘
Mam
,’ he grumbled as he straightened her hat, knocked askew during their embrace. ‘Is
Papa
here?’

‘No, he’s been away, but he should be home by the time we get back.’

‘And Andrew?’

‘Same thing, I’m afraid. Riria’s here though. She’s been rather strange since John died.’

At that moment he saw Riria elbowing her way towards them. ‘Hello, Joseph,’ she said, kissing him fondly on his cheek. ‘I am looking for John. Was he with you on the ship?’

Joseph didn’t know what to say and looked at Tamar helplessly.

‘Riria has spoken to a
tohunga
who has advised her John is still alive.’ Behind Riria’s back Tamar’s face clearly expressed her discomfort and distress. ‘She’s hoping to meet him when he comes home.’

Oh Christ, thought Joseph. ‘No, not as far as I’m aware, Auntie Riria. And I’m sure I would have known.’

‘Oh, well,’ replied Riria, not at all put out. ‘There will be more troopships. If you will just give me fifteen minutes to talk to the captain, I will ask to see the manifest and if he is not listed, we can go.’

As she marched purposefully off in the direction of the gangway, Tamar said, ‘I’m at my wits’ end. What will she do when the last ship comes home and he’s not on it?’

‘Have you tried telling her straight out? That John has gone.’

‘Well, of course I have, but she’s adamant he hasn’t. She puts great store in that damned medicine man, or whatever he is.’

‘They’re not all charlatans, Mam.’

‘I know, but I wish this one had picked someone else to imbue with eternal hope. She will be devastated when she finally realises.’ Tamar turned to her son. ‘He
is
dead, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, he is,’ Joseph replied, sadly noting the flicker of hope in his mother’s eyes. ‘There was a burial for him. Full military honours. And I’ve talked to someone who was there.’

Tamar sighed. Oh John, she thought, why the bloody hell did you have to go off and leave us all?