As the Crow Flies

At three-thirty, a Lieutenant Harvey joined them behind the trenches, by which time they were all on full battle alert. Harvey, it turned out, had arrived at the front the previous Friday.

“This is a mad war,” said Charlie after they had been introduced.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Harvey lightly. “I can’t wait to have a go at the Hun myself.”

“The Germans ’aven’t an ’ope in ’ell, as long as we can go on producin’ nutcases like ’im,” whispered Tommy.

“By the way, sir, what’s the password this time?” asked Charlie.

“Oh, sorry, quite forgot. ‘Little Red Riding Hood,’” said the lieutenant.

They all waited. At zero four hundred hours they fixed bayonets and at four twenty-one the Verey pistol shot a red flame into the sky somewhere behind the lines and the air was filled with whistles blowing.

“Tally ho,” cried Lieutenant Harvey. He fired his pistol in the air and charged over the top as if he were chasing some errant fox. Once again, Charlie scrambled up and out of the trench only yards behind. The rest of the platoon followed as he stumbled through mud over barren land that no longer bore a single tree to protect them. To the left Charlie could see another platoon ahead of him. The unmistakable figure of the immaculate Captain Trentham brought up the rear. But it was Lieutenant Harvey who was still leading the charge as he hurdled elegantly over the wire and into no man’s land. It made Charlie feel curiously confident that anyone could survive such stupidity. On and on Harvey went, as if somehow indestructible, or charmed. Charlie assumed that he must fall with every pace he took, as he watched the lieutenant treat the German wire as just another hurdle, before running on towards the enemy trenches as if they were the finishing line in some race being held at his public school. The man got within twenty yards of the tape before a hail of bullets finally brought him down. Charlie now found himself in front and began firing at the Germans as their heads popped up from behind the dugouts.

He had never heard of anyone actually reaching the German trenches, so he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next, and despite all the training he still found it hard to shoot on the run. When four Germans and their rifles came up at once he knew that he was never going to find out. He shot straight at the first one, who fell back into the trench, but by then he could only watch the other three take aim. He suddenly became aware of a volley of shots from behind him, and all three bodies fell back like tin ducks on a rifle range. He realized then that the winner of the King’s Prize must still be on his fe

et.

Suddenly he was in the enemy’s trench and staring down into a young German’s eyes, a terrified boy even younger than himself. He hesitated only for a moment before thrusting his bayonet down the middle of the German’s mouth. He pulled the blade out and drove it home once again, this time into the boy’s heart, then ran on. Three of his men were now ahead of him, chasing a retreating enemy. At that moment Charlie spotted Tommy on his right flank pursuing two Germans up a hill. He disappeared into some trees and Charlie distinctly heard a single shot somewhere above the noise of battle. He turned and charged quickly off into the forest to rescue his friend, only to find a German splayed out on the ground and Tommy still running on up the hill. A breathless Charlie managed to catch up with him when he finally came to a halt behind a tree.

“You were bloody magnificent, Tommy,” said Charlie, throwing himself down by his side.

“Not ’alf as good as that officer, what was ’is name?”

“’Arvey, Lieutenant ’Arvey.”

“In the end we were both saved by ’is pistol,” said Tommy, brandishing the weapon. “More than can be said for that bastard Trentham.”

“What do you mean?” said Charlie.

“He funked the German trenches, didn’t ’e? Bolted off into the forest. Two Germans saw the coward and chased after ’im, so I followed. Finished off one of them, didn’t I.”

“So where’s Trentham now?”

“Somewhere up there,” said Tommy, pointing over the brow to the hill. “’E’ll be ’iding from that lone German, no doubt.”

Charlie stared into the distance.

“So what now, Corp?”

“We ’ave to go after that German and kill ’im before he catches up with the captain.”

“Why don’t we just go ’ome, and ’ope he finds the captain before I do?” said Tommy.

But Charlie was already on his feet advancing up the hill.

Slowly they moved on up the slope, using the trees for protection, watching and listening until they had reached the top, and open ground.

“No sign of either of them,” whispered Charlie.

“Agreed. So we’d better get back behind our lines, because if the Germans catch us I can’t believe they’ll invite us to join ’em for tea and crumpets.”

Charlie took his bearings. Ahead of them was a little church not unlike the many they had passed on the long route march from Étaples to the front.

“Maybe we’d better check that church first,” he said, as Tommy reloaded Lieutenant Harvey’s pistol. “But don’t let’s take any unnecessary risks.”

“What the ‘ell do you think we’ve been doin’ for the last hour?” asked Tommy.