The Cadet Sergeant Major (29 page)

Graham shivered, then asked. “You are sure about the hand and the fingers?”

Doyle nodded emphatically. “Yes. Too right. It looked like this.” He held up his right hand in a clawing, clutching gesture.

Graham swallowed. This could be serious. Had they stumbled on a real dead body by accident? He asked, “Are you sure it wasn't the paw of some animal, or the leg of a dead cow or something?”

“Cow! It was a human hand,” Doyle replied hotly, clearly annoyed at not being believed. His section supported him.

“OK! OK!” Graham replied. “I believe you. Did you touch it, or examine it?”

“No. It was out in all this soft mud the pigs had dug up,” Doyle replied. “We just shone our torches on it. Anyway I wouldn't have touched it for a million bucks it looked so real.”

“Where was it exactly?” Graham asked.

The platoon was silent now, all aware that a real mystery was unfolding. Cpl Doyle stammered and hung his head. “I'm not sure now sir.”

Graham turned to CUO Bates. “Excuse me Ma'am but this sounds odd to me. I think we should tell the OC.”

CUO Bates nodded. “I agree. Corporal Doyle, come with us. Sgt Griffin, you are in charge.”

Graham turned to Margaret and her friends. “Sorry gang but I must ask you to go back to your platoons while I attend to this. And please don't mention it to anyone. We don't want a wave of rumours over what might just be a false alarm. It could just frighten the younger cadets.”

Barbara answered for them, assuring Graham they would do that. They headed off into the night while Graham, CUO Bates and Cpl Doyle returned to the HQ fire. On the way they skirted 3 Platoon's fire and Graham noted that Sgt Rankin was again standing there telling a joke; but there was still no sign of CUO White. ‘I wonder where he is and what he is up to?' he pondered.

Cpl Doyle spoke up, sounding very nervous. “Sir I did see an arm. I'm not making it up.”

“We didn't say you had Corporal Doyle. You aren't in any sort of trouble. We just want to sort this out,” Graham replied.

On approaching the HQ fire Graham observed that Kellie Jones, Marcia Denton, Allison and some other cadets were there talking to the officers. Graham halted twenty metres out.

“Wait here. I will get the OC,” he said. He walked over to the fire only to find the OC was not there. He was informed he had gone to 1 Platoon. Graham told CUO Bates and she and Doyle waited while Graham strode on along the tunnel of trees to the next fire.

Capt Conkey was not at 2 Platoon but Margaret and Barbara had returned and gave him a smile as he passed. Graham found him at 1 Platoon, standing with CUO Sherry, Stephen and Peter. Peter met his eye and shook his head. For a moment Graham was puzzled before remembering Goltz. He nodded, then spoke quietly to the OC.

“Excuse me Sir.”

Capt Conkey turned, saw Graham's gesture and followed him into the darkness. “Yes CSM?”

“Sorry to bother you sir but Corporal Doyle has a peculiar story about an arm his section saw sticking out of the mud during last night's exercise.”

“An arm! Tell me more.”

As they walked back to where CUO Bates and Cpl Doyle waited Graham outlined the story. Capt Conkey listened in silence then commented: “You did the right thing CSM. It certainly sounds odd.”

Capt Conkey questioned Cpl Doyle at length. Graham could tell he was clearly worried. Once Capt Conkey was satisfied that Doyle really had seen an arm he asked, “Where exactly was it Corporal Doyle?”

Doyle hopped from foot to foot and shrugged. “I'm not sure sir. I got a bit confused.”

“Alright, was it before you reached Lt Hamilton at the end of the highway bridge, or after?”

“After sir.”

“Did you find the ‘Cowboy's Camp'?”

“I dunno sir. Which one was that? Who was there?”

“No-one. It was just a hutchie and a fire. It was the first place after you left Lt Hamilton.”

“Yes we did sir. Then we followed the bed of the flood channel. It was real scary. And there was this bull,” Doyle replied.

“Did you find a dummy beside a muddy area?” Capt Conkey asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Then the next place you should have gone was the CSM's fire.”

Doyle hesitated. In the starlight Graham could see he was screwing up his face. “Er...ummm...er, no. That was when we saw the arm.”

“Where exactly? How far from the dummy?”

“Not sure sir. It seemed like a long way. I think we sort of took a wrong turn and followed the wrong track. Then we saw the CSM's fire.”

Graham spoke up: “Corporal Doyle was supposed to arrive as the third group out of the five Sir, but he arrived last and about an hour late.”

“You were lost then Corporal Doyle?” Capt Conkey stated.

“Er... Yes sir,” Doyle admitted.

“Do you have any idea where you went?”

“Er...ummm... er. No, not really sir. We seemed to follow tracks all over the place and crossed lots of swampy hollows. It was all rubber vines and thorn bushes and I couldn't see any landmarks,” Doyle replied.

“What about your compass? What direction where you travelling in?” Capt Conkey asked.

There was a pained silence which told them all that Doyle had not thought of that. Capt Conkey pressed his lips together. Graham then remembered and spoke up, “Corporal Doyle came into my fire from the wrong direction sir. He should have come in from the south but he actually came in from the north. I reckon, from what his cadets said, that they went the wrong side of the Bunyip Billabong and circled right around it.”

“Did you Corporal Doyle?”

“Aw! Er... yeah. I dunno sir. We mighta.”

Capt Conkey sighed. “Alright. There is nothing we can do about this tonight. We will worry about it in the morning. Now, I don't want anyone talking about this. Just go to bed and we will investigate tomorrow. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” they chorused.

“Alright CUO Bates, you and Corporal Doyle can go. CSM, you come with me and we will visit all the platoons,” Capt Conkey instructed.

As Graham and the OC walked along Capt Conkey said: “I don't like the sound of this CSM. We will have to investigate. It is a real nuisance.”

“We should be able to find the place sir. We can follow Doyle's tracks. The whole place is either mud or dust and their bootprints should show up clearly. If need be we could backtrack from my fire.”

“Yes, we can do that. Now, let's visit Three Platoon and see if things are OK there,” Capt Conkey replied.

They trudged along the sandy flood channel to find 3 Platoon all sitting around their fire and CUO White out the front telling a joke. Graham and the OC stood at the back of the audience listening. As he did Graham's eyes roamed over the faces. He was relieved the CUO was back but he was still worried. ‘Goltz,' he thought. ‘Where is she?'

“Can we visit the Control Group next sir?” he asked.

“Good idea CSM,” Capt Conkey agreed. “Let's go.”

After leaving Graham at 3 Platoon's fire Peter walked back past the HQ fire. As he passed he noted that Kate and the other girls had not returned. He continued on to check at both 2 Platoon and 1 Platoon. There was no sign of Erika Goltz at either. He was about to turn back to tell Graham when he heard a girl laugh in the distance.

Peter paused and looked that way. Just beyond 1 Platoon's area the line of trees ended. Upstream was an expanse of open sand about 200 metres across with more tree-covered dunes beyond. The glow of a fire showed among the tree tops.

‘The Control Group. She might be there?' Peter wondered. He decided it was highly likely and set off to look.

Away from the fires it was very pleasant. Apart from the effort of walking on the soft sand it was an enjoyable walk. As he drew closer he detected a trail of footprints in the sand which wound between two dunes and into a grassy dip under some trees. For lack of a better word to describe the hollow Peter opted for the English word ‘dell'. The fire was in a depression beyond it. The place was mostly in shadows.

There were voices ahead and the tinkle of girl's laughter. ‘Leah Allen,' Peter noted. A group of figures emerged from the darkness as black shadows against the paleness of the sand: the HQ girls.

“Hello Peter- I mean Sergeant Bronsky,” Allison called as they met. Peter could just recognize them in the starlight.

“Hello Peter,” Leah Allen giggled.

“Hello Peter,”- Marcia Denton.

“Hello Peter,”- Kate. Peter's heart leapt. They stopped in a milling group.

Peter gestured towards the fire. “How are the Control Group?” he asked.

“Gross,” Allison replied. “They are telling crude jokes so we left.”

“Where are we going?” Marcia Denton asked.

“What about Four Platoon?” Leah suggested.

“Oooh! Yes. Good idea!” Marcia Denton replied with a little shriek of delight.

The girls moved on past Peter who stood aside. He realized Kate had held back. She said nothing but simply stood silently near him until the chattering group had vanished into the night. Peter's heart began to pound. His mind raced. ‘What does she want?' he wondered anxiously. His palms became suddenly sweaty.

“Hello Peter,” Kate said, in a low, husky voice.

Peter's throat seemed to constrict so that it took an effort to speak. “Hello Kate,” he croaked. He shivered- was that fear, or anticipation? Did he dare to hope?

Neither spoke. Somehow they just flowed together. Kate wrapped her arms around Peter's neck, pressed against him and put her head on his shoulder. He felt her hair on his cheek, smelt her scent. His pulse quickened and he gripped her tightly.

“I'm sorry Peter,” she whispered huskily. “I didn't want to hurt you. I was just so disappointed.”

“That's alright,” Peter replied. He could feel himself getting aroused. Then he found they were kissing. He blushed because he knew he was a fumbling amateur. It was obvious Kate wasn't. She kissed him in a way which made his pulse race, at the same time as it made him burn with jealousy.

‘She's done this before,' he told himself. But he didn't stop. Of course other boys had kissed her. ‘She is very attractive.'

She pressed harder against him. “Mmmmm. That's better,” she murmured. “That's what I want. That is why I was so angry the other day. I was really worked up and in the mood. I was so frustrated.”

Peter couldn't believe his ears. Was she saying she wanted sex! He was at once eager but frightened. He drew back to look at her.

Voices! Someone coming!

Panic washed over Peter like an icy shower. He stepped hastily back, releasing Kate's hands. Four figures appeared from the direction of the Control Group camp. Had they seen? It was too late to walk away or hide.

It was Sgt Crane with Brown, Bax and Clyde. As they passed they all looked but none said anything. Brown muttered something to Crane and they both sniggered. Peter burned with shame. He knew they were saying crude things. What made it really bite was that they were right!

Then a second, fiercer flame engulfed Peter: guilt. He was on an errand for his friend the CSM to see if Goltz was up to mischief- and here he was doing the same thing!

He became aware that Kate was touching his arm. She stepped close to press against him again. Peter's nervous eyes probed the darkness but the Control Group had gone,

“Come on,” Kate whispered. “Let's go somewhere alone.”

“Where?” Peter replied, feeling half-stunned and knowing it sounded stupid.

“Anywhere,” Kate gestured at the scrub-covered dunes. “Somewhere where no-one will disturb us. Not like last time.” She giggled and pulled at his arm.

“I'm supposed to report back to the CSM,” Peter replied in an attempt to save himself with dignity. ‘I've got to get out of this without getting burnt; and without hurting her feelings,' he thought.

“Stuff the CSM!” Kate replied, rubbing against him.

“No,” Peter replied. He swallowed then explained. “He sent me to see if Erika Goltz was in the Control Group camp. He is expecting me back.”

“Stuff Erika Goltz!” Kate cried. “She's probably down beside the river having fun. Never mind her. Let's go somewhere.”

Peter was shocked. He was also fearfully excited. ‘She wants me to do things alright!' he thought. He felt suddenly sad as well as frightened. Did she love him or was it just lust? Was she just using him? Would any man do?

Knowing his actions could start a crisis Peter summoned up his courage and stepped back, holding her away. “Sorry. No. I've got to go. We shouldn't be doing this. After camp, yes.”

“Stuff you then!” Kate cried. “What good are you?”

Peter stood trembling with emotion. “It's wrong. We promised to behave.”

“Stick your promise!” Kate snapped, the hurt and anger clear in her voice.

“Kate! Be fair!”

“Get lost!” Kate shouted. She turned and strode off. Peter stood for a moment wondering what he could do to retrieve the situation. He felt hurt and angry as well- but mostly with himself.

Peter followed Kate out onto the open river bed, then halted, watching her walk away. He was tempted to try to catch her up; to reason with her; to try to persuade her to change her mind. But he hesitated, sensing it was the wrong time; and half suspecting it would be a humiliating waste of time.

So he held back, deliberately walking slowly until she vanished from sight. Instead he made his way to 1 Platoon's fire.

Stephen met him, the flames reflecting on his glasses so that Peter could not see his eyes.

“Hi Pete. Have you heard about the body?”

“Body?”

“Yeah. Apparently Dimbo Doyle's section found a body; an arm sticking out of the mud.”

Peter was astounded. A body! “When? Where?”

“Last night, during that exercise,” Stephen replied. “Somewhere near where Graham was apparently. Some of Four Platoon were just here talking about it.”

For an instant an awful suspicion had formed in Peter's mind but that eased it. ‘No. They were on the other side of the river,' he thought. He asked Stephen. “What did they say? Is it a murder?”

Stephen shrugged. “Don't know. They said the OC took Doyle off to question him. You OK Pete?”

“Yes...yes...sorry. It's just a bit of a shock, to think that we might have been that close to a real body last night; and me acting as the ghost of someone who was murdered!” Peter replied. He shuddered. “I was scared stiff as it was and had this horrible creepy feeling.”

“Probably the real ghost spooking you,” Stephen suggested.

The concept appalled Peter and he broke out in goose bumps. An awful dread seemed to seize him. “Steve! Stop it! Who was it? Do they know?”

“No. Just an arm sticking out of the mud,” Stephen imitated the clutching hand. “Don't know if it was a man or a woman.”

Peter felt little darts of icy terror run up his spine and into the base of his skull. He shivered. To his dismay he found he was ghoulishly fascinated, as well as worried.

Stephen continued, “If the arm is sticking out then the person must have been murdered recently, otherwise it would have rotted, or been eaten by something.”

Peter shuddered. “Do they say it was murder?”

Stephen laughed. “What else could it be! If it was a normal death they would be buried in a cemetery.”

“I suppose so. Brrrrr. It's horrible to think about. We were there nearly all night,” Peter replied. He was intrigued now and wanted to know more. After a few minutes he said goodnight to Stephen and walked back to Coy HQ.

Only Graham and the officers sat beside the fire. The girls were in the shadows under the nearby trees unrolling their sleeping bags. The boys were not there. Peter sat beside Graham, who was busy making a cup of coffee, and asked, “What's this about a body?”

Capt Conkey looked up sharply. “Where did you hear that?”

“Up at One Platoon sir. Sgt Bell told me.”

“Blast! I was hoping to keep the lid on it!” Capt Conkey said.

“Too late,” Lt Maclaren commented. “The old jungle telegraph works too fast.”

Capt Conkey grumbled. “Bloody rumour mongers!”

“Is it true then sir?” Peter asked. “About Doyle finding an arm sticking out of the mud?”

“It seems likely. A whole section say they saw it,” Capt Conkey replied.

“Do we know if the person was murdered; or who they might be?” Peter asked.

Capt Conkey shook his head. “No. No idea. We will investigate in the morning. It's a real nuisance,” he said. “Tomorrow is a busy day with the Patrol Circuit.”

“Do we know where this body is sir?” Peter asked. He felt compelled to ask.

“Somewhere near where you and Graham were apparently, either in the Bunyip Billabong or one of the parallel flood channels,” Capt Conkey answered.

Graham then reminded Peter how Doyle's section had come in last, instead of third; and from the wrong direction. Peter corroborated this. “I saw their torches,” he said.

They discussed the mystery further. As they did the HQ boys all came in, very full of the story which they proceeded to relate to the girls in ghoulish terms until Capt Conkey told them to stop it. They began noisy preparations for bedding down. Peter felt weariness surface in a wave which made him yawn.

“Bed for me too,” he said. He stood up then let out a moan as stiff muscles protested. Graham picked up his torch and stood up as well.

“Pete, did you see Goltz?” he asked quietly.

The question jolted through Peter like a sharp shock. He mentally winced. “No. No I didn't. She wasn't at either One or Two Platoon, nor with the Control Group.”

“Thanks,” Graham replied. “I will put the platoons to bed.” He strode off into the night.

Peter moved to where his gear lay and unrolled his bedding. All the girls were lying side by side in a row on the sand only a few metres away. Peter checked that everyone was present, and that the boys were not beside the girls then sat down to remove his boots. He felt an absolute hypocrite.

In the shadows he could see Kate's head but she had her back to him and appeared to be asleep. Peter sighed and shook his head regretfully, then crawled into his sleeping bag. A good wriggle shaped the sand to the contours of his body. He lay back. Again he thought of Kate- and of Goltz. A wave of guilt made him physically squirm.

‘Twice!' he moaned silently. Twice he had been so foolish and so weak-willed as to get himself into compromising situations with Kate. Twice he had betrayed his best friend; and broken the OC's trust. He stared up at the firelight flickering on the branches overhead, despising himself.

Peter was still miserably awake when Graham returned half an hour later to report to the OC that all the troops were in bed. Peter glanced at him and saw he still wore full uniform including hat. ‘Good old Graham. Always on duty, like the book says a good CSM should be.' He closed his eyes and lay listening to the worried murmur as Graham and the officers talked. Peter marvelled how Graham kept going. ‘He seems tireless,' he thought. He remembered other camps and expeditions. ‘Graham is good that way. He can go for days and days without sleep and still function!'

Peter drifted into exhausted slumber, his mind clutching at a shadowy thought.

The thought surfaced like an electric shock at about 0200. He sat up, sweating and shaking from the nightmare. A glance showed all was quiet- rows of sleeping people and the dull glow of the fire with Lt Maclaren sitting beside it. Peter had a drink from his waterbottle and lay back to grapple with the thought.

The three men he and Kate had seen, did they have anything to do with the body? ‘They looked the type,' he considered. Then he shook his head. ‘No. They were on this side of the river. The body is on the other,' he told himself. Still, it was an uneasy memory and he lay and wrestled with it, along with guilty but arousing thoughts of Kate.

Sleep would not return. Ghastly images of death rose to chill Peter and make him stare uneasily into the darkness. The moon rose, casting a dapple of light and shadows which seemed to make it worse. At every curlew's cry he shivered. He felt exhausted and miserable but sleep would not come. Hours dragged by with no respite other than a fitful slumber from which he woke tired and drained when Graham roused him at a quarter to six.

Check Parade was carried out on the sandy flood channel near HQ. Peter did all the checks feeling like a zombie: roll call, radios, First Aid Kits, stretchers. “All present and correct Sir,” he reported. When he met Kate's eyes she looked away. His fragile spirits plummeted. Later, while they were having breakfast, she avoided even facing his way.

This rejection made Peter feel even worse but there was no time to wallow in self-pity as there was too much to do. By 0730 all the people involved in running the patrol circuit were gathering at the HQ fire.