The Death of Hope Andrew Wareham (book club reads TXT) 📖

Another hero-worshipper! Richard hadthought better of Vokes.

He glanced at his watch. Another fifteenminutes. The bombardment was supposed to lift for the last quarter of an hour,to move forward from the pulverised wire and zero onto the German front trench.He gave the artillery five minutes of leeway - gunners not being the brightestof mortals and not necessarily able to read their watches - and ordered thebattalion back into the front line. He accompanied Captain Caton, trying to geta feel for his company, wondering how much damage Draper had done to it.

“Had a word with young Michaels last night,sir. Told him that he would not be held back, not tarnished by Draper, youmight say.”

“What’s your opinion of the boy?”

“He’ll do, sir. Mind you, he’ll quite likelydie today, trying to prove that he’s not chicken.”

“Almost inevitable. A pity I could not takethe risk of keeping Draper, you know. I might have enjoyed forcing him to marchin front of me today.”

“At the point of your revolver, that wouldhave been, sir, after you had dragged him out of the aid post where he had gonesuffering from a heart attack.”

“I seem to have been last man in the battalionto have heard of Draper’s little problem, Caton.”

“Who is to come to you snitching on afellow officer, sir? The most one could do would be to suggest you mightaccompany him one night, as you did, in fact.”

The informer was not a well-loved soul inany company, Richard admitted.

“Wire parties forward.”

The gaps in their own wire were pulledopen. Stray shells had cut several others, would speed the process of gettingforward.

“All done, sir.”

“Thank you, Hawkeswill.”

The adjutant had asked for the duty,saying that he wanted to take some part in the battle, he was not that old.Richard still did not like the man, while admitting that he had shown usefulfinally.

“Ladders forward.”

The short ladders were fixed in place sothat the men could climb the six feet out of the trench, burdened by theirpacks.

“Now, Major Vokes.”

Vokes blew on the big brass whistle, an ‘AcmeThunderer’, beloved of games teachers and sports coaches and now put to lessinnocent use.

The first line of men formed up shoulderto shoulder and plodded forward into a desultory crackle of rifle fire. A fewfell.

“No machine guns, sir.”

Richard led the second line, ten yardsbehind the first, listening to the yells of the lieutenants as they kept the menstraight.

“Wire is cut in places, sir. Some gaps allthe way to the trenchline.”

“Drop packs and run! Lewises forward!”

Two minutes and they had the front line,were pushing down the communications trenches towards the rear. Ten minutes andthey had taken the first two lines of trenches and were meeting organisedresistance for the first time. Machine guns began to fire and light artillery,pompoms and mortars, opened up on them.

The advance stalled as men took cover andbegan to return fire with rifles and Lewises.

“Fire coming in from the flank, sir. To theleft.”

“Take care of it, Vokes. If needs be, setup a line back to our trenches. Cavalry should be due within minutes.”

“They won’t be able to cross our trenches,sir.”

“The word I used was ‘due’, Vokes. Thatdoesn’t mean I expect to see them.”

Vokes laughed and moved off to the left.

“Caton, set your company to reversing thefire step here. We will hold here until we receive artillery support.”

Caton scurried into action, setting thecompany into position on a cobbled together step.

“Hawkeswill, go back and try to get holdof the RHA. Even their little guns will do some good, firing from just behind oursecond line; they will be able to get their trails down there.”

Half an hour and there was no sign of thecavalry. A runner came from Brigade.

“Beg pardon, sir. Why have you stopped?”

“A concentration of machine guns and lightartillery. Inform the Brigadier that I am trying to bring the RHA up insupport, expect to advance under cover of their fire.”

Nothing happened for an hour other thanthe fire to their front increasing as extra machine guns were fed in from theGerman rear.

Hawkeswill appeared with a party carryingthe battalion’s two Vickers.

“RHA are held back with the cavalry, sir.Their people will not permit them to move forward. Thought our machine gunswould be useful.”

“Very much so, Hawkeswill. Well done! ‘MajorO’Grady!”

A reply came from close behind his shoulder.

“I will be setting them up, sir. Mr Michaelshas just gone forward, sir, with four men carrying Mills Bombs. The younggentleman said he could see a communications trench running at the diagonalwhich might bring them within reach of the light artillery, sir. Needed to be doingsomething, so he did, sir, for not liking what was being said about CaptainDraper and the whole company tarnished by him.”

“Pity! Still, only a second lieutenant andthere are plenty more of them to hand.”

“Four good riflemen, sir. He picked thebest.”

The men could less easily be afforded – ittook years to train up a rifleman and the battalion had too few of the old,experienced soldiers.

“Get the men busy on digging in, ‘Major.We are here until we get support. No going forward into the fire ahead of us.”

O’Grady left about his business. The Vickersbegan to fire inside twenty minutes.

Richard wriggled his way up the rear sideof the German second line trench, which was as deep and well constructed as theirown front line had been, and tried to see what was happening, to establish aclear picture.

It looked likely that the Germans had builta number, six or seven the men thought, of concrete bunkers to the rear oftheir lines, for the safer storage of artillery rounds perhaps or as a defencein depth. They were being held strongly and were proof against rifle fire. Abattery of sixty pounders with their spotters up front might be able to destroythe bunkers, one by one. The big howitzers could certainly do so, provided theyhad the ammunition supplies. There were machine guns in nests in and around thebunkers and small guns, something like a two pounder pompom, set up nearby. Arifle battalion had nothing to say to that defence.

“Hold here, Caton. Where’s my runner?”

One of the younger soldiers steppedforward.

“Here, sir.”

“To Major Vokes. He is to bring his twocompanies forward,