1914 (British Ace) by Griff Hosker Read Free Book Online

steering but I was touched that I was included in the comments.
    I went around the men’s tents warning them of the planned patrol. “Make sure you have all your equipment with you and that you have spares of anything which needs spares.”
    “Gas masks as well?” Jack Lynch was a happy go lucky trooper but if there was a line of least resistance then he would take it.
    “Everything: full bandoliers of ammunition, swords, the lot. I want to be prepared for whatever we meet.  I saw them all exchanging looks.  “When we have done this for a week or so then we will have a better idea of what we are likely to meet and we can think about leaving spare equipment in the tents.”
    It had been easier when I had been one of the lads.  They would have just listened to me.  Now I was a corporal and a figure of authority.  They would push the boundaries as far as they could. The trouble was I didn’t know much more than they did.  We relied heavily on Sergeant Armstrong.
    I was awake and up well before reveille. I wanted to be sure that I was as fully prepared as possible. The gas masks and ammunition made for a heavy load and I was grateful that Caesar was such a big horse. I had cleaned my Lee Enfield the night before and sharpened my sword.  I did not think it was likely we would need our swords but it paid to be ready.
    I heard a noise behind me and turned to see Sergeant Armstrong yawning.  He chuckled, “A good habit to get into William.” He tapped his nose, “And it means you get fed first.”
    After we had saddled our horses we led them to the mess tent. There was a short hitching rail outside and we tied our mounts to it. It could only accommodate five horses and ours were the only ones there.
    The mess tent was empty but there was the smell of breakfast in the air. The sergeant cook came from Manchester and was a blunt chap. “What the bloody hell are you two doing up?  Have you wet the bed or summat?”
    “No , we thought if we came early we might actually get something that was almost edible.”
    The cook snorted, “Doesn’t matter when you get here; the food is always shite.  It’s what they give us to cook. Tea’s up anyroad.”
    We poured ourselves a mug of hot steaming tea and loaded it heavily with sugar. We sat at one of the trestle tables and Sergeant Armstrong lit his pipe.
    “Sarge, do you reckon we will see action today?”
    “There’s no point worrying about that. We have the hardest of jobs today; we are scouting.  That means seeing them before they see you. If there is any action it will be upon you in a minute and over as fast. You have to react faster than the enemy.” He shook his head and examined the glowing tobacco in his pipe. “I am too old for this game son.  You will need your eyes, ears and wits.  I can tell you what to do but I should be at home digging my garden and putting in my taters.”
    I was surprised at his morose attitude. “I didn’t know you had a garden .”
    “I don’t.  That is the point.  I should have one and I should be retired but I’m not but I’m not up to the job.”
    “Then why stay in?”
    “Because of you and the young lads. I can pass on what I have learned and some of you might survive.  Others did it for me.”
    “It’s ready!”
    We wandered over to pick up our plates of hot steaming food. After we had laden the plates with even more food we went back to the table.
    “I only know the cavalry.  I joined when I was fourteen as a bugler and it’s all I know. If I tried to retire and have a garden it would be a toss up who would die first; me or my spuds!” He began to eat. “And this is a good lesson.  Eat when you can; you never know when you will get the chance to eat again.” I was learning that you ate when you could; who knew when your rations might dry up?  George was a wise old bird.
    The food was hot and filling.  Despite the cook’s comments it was not bad.  It was not like mum’s cooking but I had eaten worse