Chapter 14
Christ isn’t the only one to be crucified along the sun-jewelled roadsides of the Somme.
Less than a mile from the spot where Gallagher called a halt, we had passed other figures, life-size this time and breathing, their outstretched arms lashed to a rickety fence.
Half a dozen men in thick woollen khaki, their capped heads wilting in the heat, their lips almost white with thirst. One or two had called out to us as we marched by, begging a sip of water.
When the soldier guarding them had screamed for silence, Danny had gripped his water canteen and made to break rank.
It was only a sharp word from me that had kept him in place.
‘What have they done to deserve that?’ Ollie had asked in a wondering voice.
I had turned to the cart rolling along beside us and to the grimacing boy propped up in its bed. ‘Being drunk on duty, being absent without leave, being—’
‘Nothing,’ Danny had interrupted. ‘No man deserves the pain and humiliation of that, no matter what he’s done. But then I suppose these are the rules you rate so highly, sir. The ones that keep us all safe.’
I’d let it go. Perhaps because I was starting to agree with him.
Now, as we run behind Gallagher’s horse, my worst fears are realised.
Out of the swirling chalk kicked up by the stallion’s hooves, six crucified men swim slowly into view.
One rolls his ashen face to the sky, as if to pass the time with the hungry sparrowhawk that circles high above.
Of course, I’d already guessed what the colonel intends for Percy Stanhope and Robert Billings, but still my heart shudders.
‘Halt!’ Gallagher bellows and we all come to a stop, drawing ourselves to attention. All except Beddowes, who remains in his saddle, smiling gently down at us. Meanwhile the colonel points at the soldier standing guard over the suffering men. ‘You there, what’s your name and regiment?’
The soldier salutes and beneath the shadow of his cap, I see a creased bulldog of a face, all blubbery lips and loose jowls. A North American drawl answers our battalion commander. ‘Second Lieutenant Malcolm Rivers, sir. Of the Royal Newfoundland Regiment.’
‘Canadians, eh? You boys are mostly stationed around Auchonvillers, correct?’
‘Ocean Villas, that’s right, sir,’ the soldier nods, giving the nickname that the British Tommies have bestowed upon the French commune.
‘Good man,’ Gallagher grunts. ‘And I see you’re doing a fine job here guarding these reprobates. How long have they got left today?’
The man consults the watch strapped around his wrist. ‘Forty minutes, give or take.’
‘Please,’ one of the men pants. ‘Water.’
‘Keep that crusty mouth of yours shut, you villain!’ Gallagher roars at him.
Beddowes leaps down from his saddle as he sees his superior struggle to dismount.
This act of consideration is rewarded with a swat from the colonel’s riding crop.
‘Don’t fuss around me like an old maid, I’m not ready for my coffin yet.
’ And with that he waddles over to where Percy and Robert stand to attention, eyes forward, arms ramrod straight at their sides.
‘Did you hear that blackguard’s unmanly begging?
Well, I don’t want any such displays of weakness from the two of you.
Not today, not tomorrow, not for the two weeks that I’ll be having you tethered to a post. Understood? ’
Percy’s gaze flickers to the six men and his bottom lip trembles. ‘But sir, it was a genuine mistake. We didn’t know it was against the—’
‘Ignorance of the law is no defence,’ Beddowes observes smoothly.
One of the crucified groans, a sound that makes Robert wince.
‘No defence at all, sir,’ he agrees. ‘We know that. But perhaps, as it’s our first offence, we could appeal to your mercy?’ His eyes dart in my direction.
‘Ah yes, the camera.’ Gallagher turns to me, holding out a gloved hand.
When I pass him the neat little device, he holds it up to the light for a moment.
The lens glints in the sun like a white star and even the tethered men lift their weary heads to blink at it.
Then with a wheeze, the Toad hurls it to the cobbled road and stamps the camera to smithereens.
‘Lieu-tenant... Ri-vers,’ he gasps, addressing the guard.
‘Take these men and tie them to the post.’
I step forward, a pulse skipping in my neck.
‘Sir, if I may? Although I haven’t been entrusted with the full details of any coming offensive, I am aware that every man will soon be needed at the Front.
And I suppose that every one of those men should ideally be fit to fight.
Privates Stanhope and Billings are under my command, and I will find a fitting punishment for them, I swear.
But to have them punished liked this? To leave them weakened and debilitated at such a crucial time—’
Gallagher fixes me with a look of pure fury. ‘Whatever you think you know, it is your duty to keep it to yourself.’
Beddowes sidles in beside him. ‘Quite right, sir. I myself only recently warned young Wraxall about the danger of loose lips.’
‘Stop panting in my blasted ear!’ Gallagher roars at his adjutant before turning back to me.
‘These snivelling excuses for soldiers should count themselves fortunate I’m only giving them field punishment and not instituting a full court-martial.
Do you realise how lucky you are?’ he roars, stepping away from me and pivoting onto his tiptoes so that he can look both men in the eye.
‘By Harry, I could have you serving two years’ hard labour for this. ’
‘I gave them the money.’
Gallagher frowns and we all turn to Danny.
‘That swindler from the town we stayed at last night?’ he says. ‘The baker who thought he owned the place? He was trying to sell them the camera. Asking something ridiculous for it so I stepped in and haggled him down. But it was still too dear, so I loaned them a few quid.’
I close my eyes. Danny must have encountered Percy and Robert just after I left the pub, while they were still haggling over the deal.
‘You loaned them the money?’ Gallagher blinks in surprise.
‘He has the funds, sir,’ Beddowes interjects quickly. He admitted as much last night, didn’t he, Wraxall?’
Danny nods at Gallagher. ‘None of this would have happened without me offering them the loan. If you want to punish someone, sir, then I reckon a lot of the blame lies with me.’
A heavy silence follows. The Canadian guard rubs his jaw, no doubt entertained by this unexpected distraction.
Meanwhile, Percy and Robert continue to stare dead ahead, shame and terror clamping their lips tight shut.
I don’t hate them for not speaking up for Danny; the crucified men are a spectacle that might rob any man of his courage.
At last the colonel speaks. ‘You’d take on the responsibility that these men bear?’ Danny nods, his clear blue eyes never leaving Gallagher’s. ‘That is a noble gesture indeed...’
I feel my own heartbeat start to settle. Perhaps Danny’s offer of self-sacrifice really has touched the old man.
‘Very well,’ Gallagher says at last. ‘Lieutenant Rivers, tie this man to the post.’
‘What?’ I almost bark the question. Percy and Robert exchange a shocked glance while Beddowes’ pathetic moustache twitches in triumph. ‘But sir, I thought—’
‘You thought what?’ Gallagher grunts, as the guard comes forward to guide Danny to the long-railed fence where the other men sag and suffer.
‘That I’d throw this soldier’s worthy gesture back in his face?
No, Lieutenant, I have more respect for him than that.
And in any case, discipline must be maintained, now more than ever. ’
We all follow Danny and the guard over to the fence, where my squire is ordered to remove the heavy kitbag from his back and then to extend his arms along the length of the highest rail.
Once in position, his wrists are secured to the wood with twists of coarse rope, his ankles also tethered to the bottom of the post. The loops binding him are loosely tied and offer little support to his arms. Danny will be expected to suspend them outwards largely under his own power.
‘Three hours,’ Gallagher orders. ‘Then you may cut him free. And to reward the boy for his courage, I will make this a one-off punishment. As you know, I could require him to stand field punishment daily for up to a month. But I expect the two of you to remain here –’ he glares at Percy and Robert – ‘to witness the suffering you have caused. If I hear from Lieutenant Rivers that you have looked away from Private McCormick’s discomfort, even for a second, then I will have the pair of you court-martialled. Understood?’
They nod dumbly.
‘Lieutenant Wraxall, you may also stay and see to it that my orders are carried out. You will then march these men to our overnight camp at Authuille.’
At least another six miles ahead of us, I think.
Six miles after an already agonising day’s march and now with a further three hours for Danny, strung to a post in the blazing afternoon sun.
I rack my brains for something I can say that might save him, but there’s nothing.
As Gallagher and Beddowes remount their horses, Danny shifts against his bonds and calls up to the colonel.
‘Can I ask you something before you go, sir?’ Gallagher nods solemnly. ‘Private Murray. He must see a doctor as soon as you make camp. His feet are very badly infected and, I swear, I’d stand at this post all day and all night if something could be done for him.’
I swallow hard. My heart swells in my chest until it feels like it’s filling up every part of me.
‘Good man,’ Gallagher nods. ‘Beddowes, see to it that this Murray fellow is well looked after once we reach Authuille.’
The captain fixes me with a strange look. ‘Of course, Colonel. I’ll ensure that Private Murray gets all the attention he deserves.’