The Cadet Corporal (28 page)

Graham stepped out of line and waved Halyday on. When Pigsy and Co came up to him he started walking level with them. “If you'd listened to the orders you'd know that was the idea,” he hissed. “Capt Conkey wants the enemy to see us so they will move more patrols to our side of the river.”

“Oh that's bloody great! That makes it even harder for us!” Moynihan replied with a sneer.

Graham felt all his anxieties well up again but he kept his voice level. “And you four aren't helping by making so much noise. Every enemy for miles must be able to hear you. So keep quiet.”

“Up ya bum, ya sniveller,” Waters replied.

By then Graham had turned and was striding along to regain his place at the front of the section. ‘Do I make an issue of that?' he wondered. He decided to ignore it, but that caused another bout of mental self-flagellation. All his fears about being a weak leader and a coward swirled round in his head. ‘I should stand up to him straight away,' he thought. But he didn't, instead continuing to feed his worries.

These were exacerbated by the fact that every step brought them closer to the far bank; and to the moment when his section would move off on their own. ‘Then I will have to sink or swim,' he thought unhappily.

All too soon that moment arrived. The long line of cadets, about sixty in number, at last reached the base of the sand cliffs. Close up these still looked steep but not as high. About ten metres Graham calculated. Along the bottom ran a dirt vehicle rack, just two wheel ruts in grass. CSM Cleland turned right and followed these for about 200 metres. When the track went in among head-high weeds, some sort of prickly burr, he halted.

“Two Platoon rest,” CUO Masters ordered. He went forward to consult with CUO Grey and CSM Cleland. Graham had a drink and took out his map to study it. He was still looking at it when CUO Masters came back.

“We are here, just near the northern end of the Anabranches,” CUO Masters said, pointing at the map.

That confirmed what Graham had thought. He could see how the sand cliffs had become steadily lower and were giving way to rocks and trees. CUO Masters said, “Do a radio check and then follow Four Platoon for a hundred metres. That will bring you to the other side of the Anabranches. There is a gate in this fence beside us and the vehicle track goes up the bank. You follow that.”

Graham nodded and felt his stomach churn. ‘This is it!' he thought.

CHAPTER 28

MOMENT OF TRUTH

A surge of something close to panic welled up in Graham's emotions. It took all his mental effort not to let it show as he forced a smile to CUO Masters. To help hide it Graham turned away and beckoned Carnes to come to him. “Do a radio check Cadet Carnes,” he said. While Cranes did this Graham called CUO Masters on his own hand held radio and it worked ‘loud and clear'. When Carnes reported that his radio check was carried out there was no excuse for delaying any longer. 4 Platoon was already moving.

“Right Cpl Kirk, off you go, and good luck,” CUO Masters said.

Graham could only nod in reply, he felt so choked up. He signalled to the section and began walking along the dusty track. The others followed, Carnes walking directly behind Graham. A glance back showed him the others were following but also confirmed that he was now on his own. Already 2 Platoon was pushing through the weeds towards Ruin Island.

A hundred metres further along the track divided. CSM Cleland and the Hutchie Men were standing there at a gate on the left, while the last members of 4 Platoon were vanishing among the trees off to the right. They would be heading over to recross the river and then to circle back to the Canning Junction through the rubber vines and Dingo Creek.

CSM Cleland pointed up through the now open gate. “Up this way, then go left Cpl Kirk,” he said.

That nettled Graham. “I know sir,” he replied shortly. His pride was badly enough dented without anyone assuming he couldn't navigate!

Porno held the wire gate open and offered rude and cheeky advice as the section filed through. “Don't you get captured by dem St Michael's fellas or you get sore bum,” he warned.

As there were no female cadets in either patrol CSM Cleland made no comment to the crude repartee. Pigsy and Co all made smart remarks back and Andrews said, “How do you know Porno? Did they catch you?”

“You be careful with smart-arse talk little boy or you get sore bum now from my boot!” Porno retorted.

And then Graham really was on his own. Porno closed the gate and CSM Cleland and the Hutchie Men walked off to the right along the line of the fence. They were soon lost to sight behind the numerous large thorn trees which grew on the higher ground. Graham swallowed a mouthful of water to calm his jumping insides, then checked his watch.

‘1745, we are going alright,' he thought. ‘About three quarters of an hour to dark.'

They had a bit over a kilometre to cover to the highway and he did not want to try to cross in daylight. Graham looked around and decided he would move along just above the swampy depression that formed one of the anabranches. There were plenty of thorn trees and clumps of grass. He motioned Halyday and Andrews up and whispered to them what he wanted.

“You two are the scouts. Head across that way but take your time, move from bush to bush. There is no hurry.”

Just as they began to move the pack radio suddenly crackled and began talking. Graham spun round and snapped angrily at Carnes, “Put the bloody earphones on and turn that thing down. Don't let that happen again!”

Carnes looked shocked and for a moment Graham thought he was going to burst into tears. Carnes did as he was told, his face a sulky mask. ‘Damn!' Graham thought. ‘I didn't handle that very well!' Flitting across his mind was the imagined comment on his own Personal Qualities Report: Reaction under stress. ‘Poor!' he thought.

The patrol began moving, the two scouts creeping one at a time from cover to cover. Their efforts were then set at nought by Pigsy and Co starting to talk. Graham gulped and knew he had to act. ‘If I can't shut them up we will get caught for sure,' he thought. Images if failure spurred him to move. He stalked back along the line and glared at The Four.

“Stop talking. We don't want the enemy to hear us.”

“You are making more noise than we were,” Pigsy pointed out.

“Just shut and co-operate!” Graham snapped back, his temper rising. “Be fair to the others in the patrol.”

Pigsy curled his lip. “This mob! I couldn't give a rat's arse about them. We didn't ask to be stuck with little first year toads like them.”

That really nettled Graham. “Well your last platoon didn't want you, and I can see why. Now shut up and do your job properly.”

The barb went home and Pigsy gave him a venomous look but made no reply. Graham turned and made his way back to his place in the line. He found his heart was hammering in what felt like erratic palpitations and he was glad the battle of wills had not come to a head. He nodded and Halyday moved forward another ten metres.

The route they followed was across the side of a very gentle slope. Down to the left the bright green of the swampy anabranch was visible. Beyond that was a real tangle of thorn trees and rubber vines which hid the other flood channels and Ruin Island. Graham knew that the remainder of the platoon would be moving along parallel to his patrol over there but he could not hear anything.

The area was thickly dotted with the thorn trees but there was almost no grass. The numerous cow pats explained why; it was obviously heavily grazed by cattle. A few of these became visible in the distance and Graham signalled halt while he considered what to do.

‘If we frighten those cattle and they stampede off ahead of us it will warn any enemy we are coming,' he thought.

Before he could decide on a plan the issue was settled for him. A harsh laugh sounded from the back of the patrol: Pigsy! The cattle stopped eating and lifted their heads to look, before bolting off away from them.

‘Oh bugger it!' Graham thought. The laughing and talking continued. By then the evening hush had set in and Graham knew that the sounds must travel for a long way on the still air. ‘I have to shut them up or we fail!' he told himself.

In his heart he knew that he faced one of those crucial tests in life. ‘If I don't face this now, no matter what, I will despise myself for the rest of my life,' he thought. The sheer starkness of his choice made him pause. Even now he groped in his mind for some strategy to put off the confrontation he that knew he must force if he was to retain both his self-respect and the control of the patrol.

‘This is a test of manhood, and of leadership,' he told himself. He just wished it was not so, that the problem would somehow resolve itself, but from some fundamental part of his spiritual being he understood he had no choice. ‘I either settle this, or I go under,' he told himself. For over a minute he stood, trembling with apprehension, his imagination conjuring up dark pictures of what The Four might do. These were counter-balanced by other images; telling Peter and Stephen how his patrol had gone on the exercise, and knowing he would have to lie to make it sound as though they had done well. The very thought of it made him feel sick.

Moynihan called out and Pigsy snickered. Graham flamed with shame. ‘They are so loud CUO Masters must be able to hear them. He will think I am a useless bloody section commander!' That thought was followed instantly by an even gloomier one. ‘He must already, seeing I have been split off with the rejects!'

That made him angry. ‘Bugger it! I'll show him!' He started walking back along the line. ‘The worst Pigsy and Co can do is bash me,' he reasoned, but he wasn't sure what strategy to adopt. As he passed the other cadets he could tell by their faces that they understood very clearly that the showdown had arrived.

As he approached The Four they kept joking and talking but he knew they were watching him. He suspected that they were deliberately baiting him and testing how he would react. They were at the back of the section, with Slim, Milson and Bragg ahead of them. Graham gritted his teeth as he tried to think up a plan to solve the problem. He saw LCpl Franks glance at him and that cheered him up. ‘Franks is scared!' he realized. ‘So it is not four, only three.'

Then more advice from his father helped clarify his plan of attack. Graham's father had been a ship's captain for twenty years and was obviously a tough customer. ‘If there is a mutiny,' he had said one day to his sons, ‘you single out the ringleader and deal with him. The others won't interfere. They are just spineless curs.'

‘Pigsy is the ringleader,' Graham thought as he approached them. With that in mind he forced himself to stride across to confront Pigsy. For a moment the two stood facing each other. Graham spoke quietly but clearly, “I told you people to keep quiet. If you don't, then I will have to take some action to make you.”

Pigsy sneered. “Haw! You and what army? You can go and get stuffed.”

“I told you to be quiet,” Graham said, his feelings of desperation rapidly mounting. To add to his feeling of stress he was aware that the other members of the section were all watching and listening. ‘If I lose this they will all despise me. I will be finished as a section commander,' he thought. That helped stiffen his resolve.

“You are just a boot licker!” Pigsy said, spitting at Graham's feet to emphasize his defiance.

“I'm the corporal,” Graham said, gesturing to his two stripes. Even as he did it he had a sinking feeling that he had made a mistake by saying that.

Pigsy jeered and laughed. Waters and Moynihan laughed as well and moved to take up threatening positions behind him. Pigsy said, “You've only got two stripes because you crawl to the officers. You're just a gutless weakling.”

Graham felt his stomach turn over and he knew he was really scared. But he was also desperate and knew instinctively that this was a battle of wills he had to win, or at least go down fighting. He put his hands on his hips and said, “Either turn down the noise and do what you are told or I will take you back to the camp now.”

Pigsy turned to his mates and laughed. “Big man! He will take us back!” He turned back to Graham and bunched his fists onto his hips. “How will you do that you gutless jerk? All you can do is dob us in later, and that will just prove you are weak.”

That was what Graham thought too and he now tensed, ready for open conflict. Among his options was the one frequently used by American ‘heroes' in movies of beating Pigsy in a fight. To his own surprise he found he wasn't afraid of fighting him, but it went so much against all he had been taught about leadership that he rejected it as an option. ‘That is not the way the Australian Army does things, and it is sinking to his level,' he thought. But he was still stumped for a workable plan.

After a moment's tense silence he shrugged and said, “Then you can walk back to camp now, and explain why when you get there. That way you can put your version in with the officers before I do.”

“Make us!” Pigsy retorted, curling his lip.

Graham looked him straight in the eye. Noting the flickering in the irises he suddenly thought, ‘He's scared!' That emboldened him. ‘I've come this far. I can't just let this fizzle out now or it will just fester and resurface. I have to settle it.' Having resolved that, he said, “Either agree to do the right thing or get going.”

“Get stuffed!”

“You are finished Pigsy. Do as you are told.”

“Oh yeah! What'll you do? Dob us in the officers?”

At that Graham smiled. “Of course. That's how the army system works. It has to work that way or the bullies like you will win. You think I haven't got the guts to report you because you will tease me for being a dobber. And you think you can frighten me with threats. Well, you are wrong on both counts. You are the one who hasn't got the guts. You aren't even game to do your own dirty work. You have to get other people to tease little kids like Braggy.”

At that Pigsy lost his temper. Graham saw his eyes, already suffused with a reddish tinge, narrow. He sensed what was coming and braced himself for it. Suddenly he knew that he was winning. But the battle wasn't over and it hurt. Pigsy lashed out. The punch took Graham full in the face, knocking him back several steps.

There was shocked gasp from the watching cadets. Graham's head spun and he had trouble keeping his feet but he managed to keep his own hands by his sides. With a disdainful sneer he taunted Pigsy. “That's the end of you Pigsy. Criminal assault in front of witnesses. Now we can involve the police as well as the officers.”

“You gutless shit! You aren't even game to fight,” Pigsy snarled. He jumped forward and punched again.

It took a real effort of willpower but Graham stood and wore it. The blow knocked him to his knees. Shaking his head to stay conscious and to fight off the dizziness he straightened up. “Striking a superior officer eh?” he commented. “You are finished Pigsy. Cadet Carnes, give me that radio so I can call the OC.”

For a second Graham thought he had provoked Pigsy into completely losing control but he saw the eyes flickering and the raised fist and knew it was almost over. Neither of Pigsy's mates made any move to help. The only person who tried to interfere was Slim. He cried, “Hey! Stop it!”

“Stay out of this Cadet Lyle,” Graham replied. He had trouble speaking clearly because his lips were going numb and he could taste blood. Pigsy stood glaring at him but looking baffled. When he did not punch again Graham said, “Right Cadet Pike. This is the deal, and it isn't open to negotiation. Co-operate and make this patrol work and we will forget that you lost control. If you don't want that then we move directly to the highway bridge and call in the officers. Take it or leave it.”

Pigsy glared at him but looked unsure. He glanced at his friends but they had now edged away, clearly not wanting to get involved. Graham breathed out and set his jaw. There was blood trickling down his face but he resisted the urge to wipe it off. He sensed he had the upper hand but now had to turn it into complete victory. He stepped closer to Pigsy and looked him straight in the eyes. “Well? What is it to be? Make your mind up, and fast.”

Pigsy licked his lips and again looked to his cronies for support but Graham noted Moynihan shaking his head. Rather than give Pigsy any time to think of some new tactic Graham said, “Right, to the highway,” and spun on his heel.