Chapter 19
It hurts my heart to see the chateau’s once-grand library.
Taking a glancing blow from a German shell, the ceiling has been patched with bits and pieces of scavenged timber.
Walls of towering bookshelves now stand empty, only a few surviving volumes stacked haphazardly in a corner.
Still there is the smell of books in the air, rich and dusty, a ghost scent to haunt what is now the battalion’s intelligence HQ.
As we enter, two men look up from a large desk positioned in the centre of the room, every inch of it covered in maps and photographs.
Captain Beddowes can’t help but hitch one of his smarmy smiles.
But then as his gaze passes to my right, his eyes flicker and something like fear replaces his former smugness.
I glance at Danny and see the stamp of rage on his features.
‘Steady,’ I murmur.
He blinks in response.
When Captain Gordon Hunter Jackson steps around the desk, we both snap to attention.
‘At ease, men,’ he says and salutes back.
Jackson has a soft Scottish brogue, his words commanding and yet somehow gentle.
He stands only a little taller than Danny but possesses a similar powerful physique.
Looking at him, I’m reminded of the story of how this man walked through a hail of machine guns to rescue one of his men, carrying the injured soldier back in his arms. But it isn’t only physically that he impresses.
There is a directness in those eyes that seem to weigh up a man, a searching look that might uncover any secret.
And yet the voice, the way his mouth stays open a little even when he isn’t speaking, I can’t explain it exactly, but I feel any secret would be safe with Captain Gordon Hunter Jackson.
‘Private McCormick, isn’t it?’ Jackson nods at Danny. ‘Yes, Captain Beddowes has already mentioned you.’
‘I have indeed,’ Beddowes says. ‘And I thought only your presence was requested here, Wraxall?’
‘McCormick is my soldier-servant,’ I say evenly. ‘It’s his duty to accompany me if I so wish.’
‘Now then, gentlemen,’ Jackson interrupts, his gaze snapping between us.
‘To business. Firstly, I would like to express my sorrow at the news of Private Murray’s passing.
I’ve reviewed reports from his last training camp and he appears to have been a very capable young man.
As a company, we are the poorer for his loss.
.. You wish to say something, Lieutenant Wraxall? ’
I wasn’t aware of reacting to his words but Jackson’s keen gaze must have caught something in my expression. ‘Sir. I would like it put on record that, in my opinion, one of the causes for Private Murray’s death was the neglect shown to him by his last training instructor. His feet were—’
‘Are you a doctor?’ Beddowes slides around the desk and comes to stand behind Jackson.
‘An officer in the field doesn’t need to be a medical man in order to assess the state of a soldier’s feet,’ Jackson says quietly. ‘It is part of his duties, and as such, I trust the lieutenant’s judgement. Rest assured, I will make enquiries of Private Murray’s last training camp. Anything else?’
I look at the Snake who, pretending disinterest, has slithered back to the desk. I’m about to open my mouth when Danny says: ‘I’d like to add something, if I may, sir?’
I take a deep breath. Keep a cool head, Danny.
‘Captain Beddowes here and the colonel were made aware that Private Murray was in a bad way,’ Danny begins. ‘But they still insisted he march until he dropped.’
‘At which point you took it upon yourselves to disobey a direct order and place the boy in a cart,’ Beddowes says smoothly.
I see the twitch in Danny’s jaw. Don’t rise to it. ‘As the captain says, we made a decision based on what we thought was best for our comrade,’ Danny confirms.
‘I made the decision, Captain Jackson,’ I put in. ‘The responsibility is entirely mine.’
Jackson holds up his hand. ‘Forgive me, Lieutenant, but I’d like to hear the story from Private McCormick.’
Danny nods, his jaw set. ‘When a halt was called, something then happened which meant we had to leave Ollie by himself.’
‘Ah yes,’ Jackson says. ‘And this was because some members of your platoon were found in possession of an illegal camera, and you were given a three-hour field punishment.’
‘Not quite three,’ Beddowes interrupts, triumphantly flourishing a scrap of paper over his head.
‘I have a note here telegraphed by Second Lieutenant Rivers stating that “Second Lieutenant Wraxall freed Private McCormick from the post twenty minutes ahead of time.” Wraxall then ordered his men to shoot the guard if he dared return McCormick to his punishment.’
‘Does this man Rivers have witnesses to these events?’ Jackson asks, his penetrating gaze never leaving mine.
‘Well, n-no,’ Beddowes blusters. ‘But he seemed an honest fellow—’
‘What do you say, Lieutenant Wraxall?’
I shrug. ‘My grandfather’s pocket watch has always kept very reliable time, sir. I’d certainly trust it against the word of a petty-minded sadist from another regiment.’
Jackson allows himself the smallest of smiles.
‘Manchesters must stick together, eh? Well said.’ He then turns back to the Snake.
‘I have heard Lieutenant Wraxall and it seems your Lieutenant Rivers was mistaken. No, no, please don’t start on about the camera again.
If I arrested every man under my command with a Box Brownie in his kitbag we’d soon lose a quarter of the company. ’
‘But that was the colonel’s direct order!’ Beddowes objects.
‘And I shall take it up with the colonel,’ Jackson replies in a reasonable tone before addressing Danny again. ‘Right then, Private, let’s have the rest of your complaint. I understand your grief for your friend, but there are other important matters that need to be discussed here today.’
That dark fury back in his eyes as he looks directly at Beddowes, Danny states: ‘In our absence, Private Murray was ordered down from the cart and forced to march. He was in agony, sir, and delirious. Before Lieutenant-Colonel Gallagher left me hanging from that fence post, he asked Captain Beddowes to arrange for Ollie to receive medical care once they reached Authuille.’ Danny makes to step forward and I grab him firmly by the wrist, keeping him in place.
At the same moment, I catch a sharp look from Captain Jackson.
‘You said you’d get him a doctor,’ Danny seethes at Beddowes.
‘You said he’d be looked after. You lied and so he died in agony. ’
‘Take that back, Private.’
Danny blinks at Jackson. ‘Pardon?’
‘You will not call an officer a liar. Not in my hearing. Take it back.’
‘But I...’
Jackson goes to stand eyeball-to-eyeball with Danny.
He doesn’t shout but his voice is commanding.
‘I have said that you were treated unfairly, and I stand by that. I will make my feelings on the issue clear to the colonel. But if you disrespect the chain of command in my hearing then I will call in the guard and have you arrested. Do you understand?’
The most preening of smirks appears under Beddowes’ sketchy moustache. Silence now in the old library, a nervy stillness disturbed only by a stray breeze whistling in the chimney.
‘I... I take it back,’ Danny says at last. ‘The captain must have his reasons for not finding Ollie a doctor, but... He didn’t lie.’
Beddowes gives a dry chuckle and Jackson spins around to face him. ‘And what were your reasons, Captain?’
Beddowes’ mouth drops open. ‘I won’t answer to you.’
‘Nor do you have to,’ Jackson agrees. ‘But I wouldn’t want my reputation stained by this poor boy’s death. Not if I had an explanation.’
‘Do you realise the extent of my duties?’ Beddowes snaps back. ‘Keeping up with the endless admin of this bloody war? So I forgot, all right? It wasn’t deliberate and perhaps I do regret it, but the welfare of some anonymous Tommy wasn’t at the top of my list that day.’
‘Although you remembered him well enough to make sure he marched,’ I say drily.
Jackson gives Danny and I a long look. ‘I’ve heard your complaint,’ he nods. ‘And I will add my own letter of condolence to the one I am sure you have already sent Private Murray’s family. It’s a tragic loss and, in my opinion, a needless one. But we now have other matters to discuss.’
He leads us over to the large table, all strewn with maps and aerial photographs. It reminds me of the material I saw on the colonel’s desk back in étaples.
‘What matters?’ I ask.
‘Oh, nothing much,’ Beddowes replies airily. ‘Only the end of the war.’