The Cadet Sergeant Major (13 page)

Graham felt an ugly surge of suspicion. The two added to it by appearing to detour around their own campfire. They headed in the direction taken by the girls. Graham heard the OC grunt in annoyance before he called out.

“CUO White!”

“Sir?” White turned in surprise and headed towards them. Brown hesitated then did likewise.

‘They look bloody guilty,' Graham thought.

“Walk with me,” Capt Conkey said to CUO White. He turned and headed for the officer's fire.

Graham did not follow. “Sgt Brown, come here,” he called.

“What?” Brown sauntered over.

“What Sir,” Graham corrected. He noted that Brown looked defiant and worried.

“What Sir,” Brown replied, a sneer visible in the firelight.

“Where have you been?”

“Just visiting other platoons.”

Graham was about to refute this but bit back the reply. It was possible. They could have been at different platoons from him. But he was still suspicious.

“What were you doing down there in the bush?” he asked, keeping his voice low so that none of the nearby cadets could hear.

“Going to the toilet,” Brown replied.

“A girl's toilet? Were those two girls there?”

“What girls?”

“Those two from Four Platoon who came out of the bush just before you did: Smart and Ramsey?”

Brown shook his head. “I didn't see any girls.”

‘He's lying,' Graham thought. But he knew he couldn't prove it. His suspicions solidified into sickening certainty. He now asked directly. “Were you with Smart and Ramsey down there in the bush?”

“No I wasn't!” Brown cried angrily. “Are you calling me a liar? Don't you believe me?”

For a moment the two eyed each other. To Graham's mind Brown's hostility and aggressiveness confirmed his suspicions. He noted that some of the cadets were looking their way. With an effort he kept his voice level.

“You should have been here, with your platoon.”

“It's a free night. We can visit.”

Graham pursed his lips at the tone. “Don't give me any of that bush lawyer crap Sgt Brown. You are a platoon sergeant. You know your primary duty is to control your platoon, not wander off and visit your mates- or talk to girls.”

“I wasn't talking.”

“What were you doing then?”

Brown glared. “I wasn't with them.”

“Don't put your hands on your hips when you are talking to me sergeant. Now get this platoon functioning. Get them around this fire and start pulling them together as a team. And make sure they are all in bed by twenty two hundred- the correct beds.”

Graham turned on his heel and stalked off. On the way he passed CUO White heading back to his platoon. At the officer's fire Graham reported his suspicions and actions to Capt Conkey.

The OC nodded. “Yes, that is how it looked to me too. That is a worry. Now, CSM, go and get Cadet Dibble so I can chew his ear.”

Graham was now in a grumpy mood. This communicated itself to Dibble when he spoke to him and the boy made no protest. He meekly followed Graham back to the officer's fire. Because Lt McEwen, Lt Standish and Lt Hamilton were now there he stopped 25 metres out.

“Wait here Cadet Dibble,” he ordered. He went and informed Capt Conkey who left the fire and walked out to where Dibble stood in the darkness.

“You stay CSM,” Capt Conkey said. He then proceeded to tell Cadet Dibble exactly how he felt. “I am not impressed when people tell me lies. I dislike it intensely. You made me a promise then broke it within minutes. That means I will never trust you again. I consider your actions to be dishonourable and selfish.”

Dibble stood in silence except for sniffles. Then he cried, “But I just want to go home!”

“Well you aren't going. I think it is very unfair of you to expect your parents to waste two days of their time and all the money it will cost to collect you just because you don't want to try. Listen, you are not the only person involved here. That is why I said ‘selfish'. You are affecting the morale of a hundred other people by your attitude. Oh, for God's sake stop sniffling! You are fourteen, not four!”

Dibble made an effort to stop. Graham could see the misery in the boy's face in the firelight but was unmoved. Capt Conkey went on, “I will give you a second reason why I think you are selfish. I spoke to your father on the phone and I have never heard a man so humiliated. What man wants to be ashamed of his son? That is what you have done, shamed your father, and your family. I am sure you would prefer him to be proud of you. The way to do that is to stick it out and to rise to the challenge.”

Capt Conkey paused to let this sink in. “For that reason alone, never mind your own pride and self-respect you should stay. And stop being so negative. Your self-pity affects many others. Try helping them instead. Make friends and help others and you will find it easier. You are only here for a few days for heaven's sake. Now, I want a promise you won't cause any more trouble.”

“But sir, I just want to go home,” Dibble wailed.

“I am aware of that! The whole company is aware of that!” Capt Conkey cried. “I want a promise not to cause trouble. I won't discuss anything else.”

Dibble quailed before the Capt Conkey's anger. He sobbed and sniffled, then murmured. “Yes sir. I promise. I'm sorry sir.”

“That will be all. Now go back to your platoon.”

“Yes sir.”

Dibble moped off into the darkness. Capt Conkey let out a heavy sigh, then turned and walked back to the officer's fire. Graham went with him.

“That was exactly what needed to be said Sir,” Graham commented.

“Thanks CSM. Now, take a seat. What about Sgt Brown?”

They discussed what might have been going on and what they needed to do to ensure there were no further problems. The discussion then drifted onto other topics. Capt Conkey suddenly stood up.

“We will do another circuit of the platoons. Come on CSM.”

The pair walked from campfire to campfire observing and discussing personalities. While with the platoons Capt Conkey appeared cheerful and relaxed and was as friendly as possible. He made an effort to speak to the ordinary cadets and even told a couple of jokes. Things were much as before except that most of 3 Platoon were now seated around their fire. White and Brown were both there but the gathering lacked the good humour and gaiety of the other platoons.

“Hmmm. That is a bit better,” Capt Conkey commented as he and Graham walked away. “Lights Out soon anyway.”

“I will see to that sir.”

“Send the CUOs to me when you do please.”

“Yes sir.”

Peter sat at the HQ fire and watched as Graham arrived out of the darkness. He could tell that he was annoyed but did not ask why in front of the cadets. Graham sent Cpl Parnell and LCpl Henning in different directions to get the CUOs and told Peter to put HQ to bed. Then he moved on into the darkness in the direction of 1 Platoon.

Peter stood up and ordered the fire doused. Reluctantly the cadets stirred themselves and began preparing for bed. In the darkness Peter managed to bump against Kate and she eagerly gripped his hand for a few moments. Hers felt very warm and the touch filled him with desire.

There was a deal of to-ing and fro-ing as cadets packed up, collected gear or went to the toilet. Peter and Kate both took advantage of it to touch each other several more times. On one occasion Kate pressed herself against him. The effect on Peter was electric. His blood pulsed fiercely and he became instantly aroused.

But they had no opportunity to get away together. There were too many others around; and Peter had a job to do. By the time he had the cadets all settled in bed Graham had returned.

‘I wish Graham wasn't sharing a hutchie with me,' Peter thought. ‘Then I might have a chance to get Kate on her own.' In spite of feeling very frustrated and horny he managed to talk normally to Graham while they prepared their bedding. Graham compounded his irritation by lying down and apparently falling asleep within moments. Peter lay back wide awake and very aroused. He felt intensely frustrated.

Half an hour went by. Still sleep would not come. Peter silently cursed. In the distance there was a sudden outburst of shouting and laughter. Graham muttered, groaned, rolled over and sat up, rubbing his eyes. The disturbance continued. Graham muttered grumpily, groped for his boots and pulled them on, then strode off into the night. Peter pretended to be asleep.

Graham quickly reached the trouble makers. 3 Platoon was like a disturbed ant's nest. Mocking laughter from the Control Group camp indicated the cause even before Graham enquired. A highly indignant CUO White met him. Pointing accusingly he cried, “The bloody Control Group! They just raided us and let down nearly every hutchie.”

“And they have ‘greased' Clayfield,” Sgt Brown added. He didn't sound very concerned about it and by the reflection of his torch Graham could see he was grinning. ‘Bloody Control Group!' Graham fumed. ‘The camp was just settling down nicely and they have to stir it up.' “Where's Clayfield? Is he alright?” he asked.

CUO White gestured to the darkness at the edge of his platoon area. Graham strode over and flicked his torch on. This revealed a whimpering Cadet Clayfield crouched in a shivering ball. His face was smeared with some sort of mixture that was both black and white and he appeared to have no trousers on. Graham clicked off his torch and said, “Are you alright Cadet Clayfield?”

“It hurts! It stings!” Clayfield cried.

“Where are your pants? Did they strip you?” Graham asked. The very idea shocked him as he knew that would be very serious.

“N.. N.. No. I wasn't wearing any. They (sniff) they just (sob) tipped me out of my sleeping bag,” Clayfield answered.

Both CUO White and Sgt Brown and a couple of other cadets had now arrived. CUO White snapped irritably, “Why weren't you wearing any pants Clayfield?”

“B.. Be.. because I.. I (sniff) did.. didn't (sob) want to poo in them again,” Clayfield cried.

CUO White snorted and said, “If you weren't such a dirty little grub you wouldn't need to do that.”

His tone and questioning angered Graham who intervened. “Excuse me sir, let's sort this out first. Cadet Clayfield, did they grease you down there?”

“Yes (sniffle), and it really stings!” Clayfield sobbed.

Graham shone his torch on the other cadets present. “You people go away! Go and put your hutchies back up.” As they moved to obey Graham turned to Sgt Brown and said: “Sgt Brown, get your people organized and back to bed. CUO White sir, could you please have Clayfield's section commander- that is Cpl Gallon isn't it?- take him over to HQ so he can wash himself.”

“What about the Control Group?” CUO White demanded.

“I will deal with them now, Sir,” Graham grated. He could see two torches approaching from the officer's camp. ‘If that is the OC then I want to act before he arrives,' he thought. So Graham strode quickly over to where the Control Group were now pretending to be innocently asleep.

“Sgt Crane!”

“Yeah, what?” came a surly reply

Graham bristled at the insolent tone but kept his temper in check. Quietly he said, “Come out here please.”

“Why?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Can't it wait? I'm tired.”

“Now!” Graham growled.

After a few moments Crane crawled out of his hutchie. Graham led him ten metres away from the bivouac. “Now listen to me,” he snarled quietly. “You may not like me, but in front of your troops you do the right thing and address me as sir; or by my rank.”

Crane shrugged. He made no answer for a moment then said, “Yeah. So? What do you want?”

“You know bloody well what I want! Was your platoon just involved in a raid on Three Platoon?”

“Who says so?”

“Their platoon commander. And I will say it again. Address me as ‘sir'.”

“Yes- Sir,” Crane replied.

“For heavens sake! Where is your sense of responsibility? And to grease Clayfield! As if that kid hasn't got enough problems without being bullied by your lot! I want the people who did it to apologize to him tomorrow.”

“I don't know who they were.”

“Sir!” Graham snarled. He took a deep breath and went on. “So, you are the sergeant. You should be in control of your troops and you should know. So find out!”

At that moment Capt Conkey and Lt Maclaren arrived. The OC was very angry. “Did your people just raid Three Platoon Sergeant Crane?”

“Yes,” Crane mumbled reluctantly.

“You mean ‘Yes Sir',” Capt Conkey grated. “I'm not happy, and nor are they. As for Cadet Clayfield, it is a disgrace. The kid has boot polish, toothpaste and shaving cream all over him and his clothes! Who the devil did that?”

“Don't know sir,” Crane replied.

Graham interjected. “Sir, I have already told him to find out and to apologize in the morning.”

“Good,” Capt Conkey grunted. “OK Sgt Crane, get your people out and line them up, now!”

The Control Group had clearly overheard all this because as soon as Crane called them they all came scrambling out fully dressed. They formed a line and Capt Conkey shone his torch slowly along it. He snarled at them.

“You people should know better. You are all NCOs. You will not only apologize to Cadet Clayfield you will wash his clothes. You idiots! If he chooses to make an official complaint then you could face assault charges. We are talking state law here, not school rules or cadet regulations. Now, first you are all to go over to Three Platoon and re-erect his hutchie and tidy and clean his gear, and all the other hutchies you cut down. Once that is done, seeing you have so much spare energy, you people can parade in webbing and with packs. You will then march to the highway and back. And just to make sure you make it all the way Lt Maclaren will drive down to meet you. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then move!”

The Control Group did so. Graham and the two officers followed them over to the 3 Platoon area. There was some bickering between the two groups which Capt Conkey silenced. Graham and Capt Conkey then went back towards the officer's camp. Lt Maclaren remained to supervise.

Graham and Capt Conkey went around behind the parked vehicles to where splashing indicated Cadet Clayfield was washing. A person stood nearby in the darkness.

“Who is there?” Capt Conkey called.

“Cpl Gallon Sir, with Cadet Clayfield.”

Even in the starlight Graham could see that Cadet Clayfield was naked, crouching beside a washbasin. Capt Conkey called, “You can come away Cpl Gallon and allow Cadet Clayfield a bit of privacy.”

“Yes sir,” Cpl Gallon replied. He spoke briefly to Clayfield and handed him a towel, then walked over to join Graham and the OC. They moved to the other side of the vehicles.

As they did a group of three came hurrying from the direction of HQ. As they went to pass around the other end of the vehicles Capt Conkey called loudly, “Stop! You people come here.”

A girls' voice answered: Kellie Jones'. “Yes sir,” she said.

“Who is there and where are you going at this time of night?” Capt Conkey queried.

“The medics sir, to help with First Aid for Cadet Clayfield.”

Capt Conkey was obviously not amused. “I think Cadet Clayfield can wash himself,” he growled. “He doesn't need three girls to help.”

“But Sir,” Kellie Jones replied. “We heard that they put mosquito repellent on him and it is burning his skin. We have some cream to try and soothe it, and some methylated spirits.”

At that moment one of the girls turned on a torch and in its light Graham saw Clayfield's head. He was in tears and was shaking. He sobbed, “It hurts Sir! It stings.”

“Turn that torch off Cadet Denton!” Capt Conkey said sharply. “You girls won't be needed. You can hand the cleaning materials to Cpl Gallon and then go back to bed.”

The torch clicked off. The girls handed over the wash cloths to the boys and walked meekly away.

Cpl Gallon spoke up. “I asked the medics for the Metho sir. The boot polish won't come off without it.” He sounded very anxious.

From the other side of the vehicle Cadet Clayfield whimpered loudly, “It hurts Sir. It burns!”

“Wash yourself quickly with soap and water Cadet Clayfield,” Capt Conkey ordered. “Do a thorough job and then wait here. We will take you to hospital if needed. Cpl Gallon, you give him the methylated spirits and then go and bring him some clean clothes. CSM, you keep other people away to give him some privacy and when he is finished report to me.”

Cpl Gallon went and handed the materials to Cadet Clayfield and then went to his platoon area. Even in the dark Graham could see that Clayfield was shivering from pain. Capt Conkey turned and walked away. Graham remained on guard.

Capt Conkey went to the officer's camp. By the light of the fire Graham saw that all the officers were awake. After relating the story to them Capt Conkey returned with Lt Hamilton and Lt Standish. She had a First Aid kit and Lt Hamilton moved to check his vehicle in case it was needed. Cpl Gallon returned with clean clothes for Cadet Clayfield and a few minutes later reported that he was now drying himself and was dressing. He was sent back to his platoon to go to bed.

When Cadet Clayfield was dressed Lt Standish and Lt Hamilton went to him to check how he was. In the darkness Graham could hear Clayfield sniffling. “It must hurt sir,” he said.

“I'll bet it does CSM!” Capt Conkey replied. He was obviously very angry and concerned. But as they waited he said, “You handled that every well CSM.”

Graham glowed at the praise. “Thank you sir.”

They moved to join Clayfield and the other officers. Capt Conkey said, “How do you feel now Cadet Clayfield? Do you need to be taken to see a doctor?”

“No sir (sniff). I'll be alright,” Clayfield answered.

“What do want done by way of restitution?”

“What do you mean sir?” Clayfield asked.

“Do want an apology? Or do want me to take some particular action? Do you want your parents informed?” Capt Conkey replied. He explained that he needed to report the incident to the army and possibly to the police.

“Oh, not the police sir!” Clayfield cried. “It was my fault.”

“How was it your fault?” Capt Conkey asked.

“I called them names sir,” Clayfield replied. He then related more details of what had happened. As he did Graham inwardly groaned. It sounded as though Clayfield had not been the target of the attack but had provoked the Control Group, who until then had just been letting down hutchies. It had been Clayfield's own boot polish, toothpaste and shaving cream they had used. Apparently it had been loose on the ground instead of packed away as it was supposed to be. On hearing that Graham made a mental note to speak to Sgt Brown. ‘He should have made sure his platoon area was tidy before they went to bed,' he thought.

Capt Conkey was not appeased. “I still have to report this and I must take action. Are you going to be satisfied with an apology and them cleaning your clothes and gear?”

“Yes sir,” Clayfield replied.

“Alright. We will discuss this again in the morning. Now you go to bed. CSM, go with him and then have the Control Group paraded ready to march; and since they let down 3 Platoon's hutchies they can take their own down and pack them as well. I want them in full Marching Order in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes sir. Come on Cadet Clayfield,” Graham answered. He led Clayfield back to his own platoon area.

This was now quiet and appeared normal. To Graham's mild annoyance neither CUO White nor Sgt Brown appeared to be awake but Cpl Gallon was. He took charge of Clayfield and sent him to bed. Graham continued on to the Control Group camp. He found Lt Maclaren there and a very grumpy group of cadets. They became even more unhappy when Graham passed on Capt Conkey's instructions about the hutchies.

Cpl Bax muttered angrily, “Bugger you Craney! See what your stupid idea has got us into.”

“Don't call me stupid!” Crane snarled back. “It was your idea to put that toothpaste on Clayfield.”

“You held him down!” Bax retorted.

“Stop bickering and pull these hutchies down,” Graham interjected. But they kept muttering and he listened, noting that it had been Bax and Crane who implicated themselves in the greasing, not Martin or Green.

Ten minutes later he led the grumbling and angry group up to near the officer's camp. They were fully dressed and laden with their webbing and packs. Graham told them to wait and went to report to Capt Conkley. He found Capt Conkey seated at a folding table writing in the unit's ‘Incident Book'. “Control Group ready to march sir,” he reported.