Free Soldier Girl by Annie Murray Page A

along beside Cath, their metal army identity tags with their name and religion stamped on – ‘C of E’ for Molly, ‘RC for Cath – bashing up and down against their chests, struggling for breath, her untaught muscles screaming protest after just a few yards. Cath didn’t seem to have much idea about running either and they sank towards the back, only Honor whimpering somewhere behind them. It didn’t occur to them to wait for her: she was from another world. Lena, to Molly’s surprise, seemed to be able to keep up the running quite well with her light frame and surged away into the wet gloom.
    ‘That’s what comes of working in service,’ she told Molly afterwards. ‘I mean I down’t do any running, but yower up and down stairs all ruddy day – and yow should see the steps to the coal cellar – like climbing a mountain!’
    Most of the middle-class girls like Ruth and Win, still trim after years of drill in spartan boarding schools, chugged along stoically as if they’d been doing it all their lives. Molly, envying them, felt like a giant puppy that’s not quite in control of its limbs.
    Those girls also seemed more able to cope with the communal nature of the draughty ablutions hut. Molly had found it mortifying with so many others about, trying to wash with no privacy at all. Sensitive about keeping clean, she really wanted to strip off and have a good wash down, but that was out of the question. She sneaked a glance at Win, who was performing some cleverly intimate washing while half wrapped in her towel. Why did these girls seem to have the knack of everything? She felt stupid and clueless, and in her inadequacy responded in the only way she could think of – she became loud.
    ‘Ah, that’s better,’ Win said, wringing out her flannel as they finished washing. ‘Ready for anything now!’
    ‘Ooh!’ Molly quipped. ‘Ready for anything, eh? Well – there’s plenty of fellas round here’d be ready to oblige, I’m sure!’
    Win didn’t turn to face her and Molly could see she was blushing uncomfortably. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it,’ she muttered.
    ‘O-ooh – sorry I’m sure, Miss La-di-dah,’ Molly said.
    ‘Oh, I say – how rude!’ Ruth protested.
    ‘She must have a dirty mind,’ Lena sniggered, winking at Molly.
    ‘Oh, I say!’ Molly mimicked Ruth.
    The two of them left the ablutions hut together, but not without seeing Ruth and Win exchanging eye-rolling glances in their direction. Molly knew they looked down on her and it wasn’t a nice feeling. She just didn’t know how to deal with these posh girls. She felt loud and crude and unsure of herself, but she wasn’t bloody well showing them that!
    All in all though, sitting here now, pink-cheeked and glowing, she knew she felt the better for the run and the early-morning fresh air. And she’d liked the porridge and was surprised by the others complaining. One or two had pushed it away with grimaces of disgust. But as far as Molly could see, army food was a good deal better than meals had ever been at home!
    Corporal Morrison gave ‘What Next’ instructions. Kit inspection, followed by – no beating about the bush – nit parade, followed by free-from-infection parade. To follow, on other days, there would inoculations, intelligence tests, and on and on it went.
    ‘Hah, well,’ Win said to anyone who was listening as they all limped outside again, ‘no rest for the wicked.’
    Nit parade. They all lined up. As the orderly carrying out the inspection came closer along the line, Molly, to her consternation, felt herself start to get the shakes. It always seemed to happen, whenever she was subject to any sort of physical examination. She was overcome with panic. For goodness’ sake pull yourself together! she told herself fiercely.
    Those found to have nits were pulled out to form another line the other side of the room. ‘You see – happens every time. The peroxide ones – always sure to be infested,’