Free Passions of War by Hilary Green

the blank gaze had been replaced by a look of grim determination. ‘You’ve never fired a rifle, have you?’
    â€˜No, but I’ve used a shotgun. It can’t be so different.’
    Ralph turned to a soldier nearby. ‘Give this officer a rifle. There must be spares that belonged to one of our casualties.’
    Tom was handed a gun and Ralph gave him brief instructions on how to load and fire it. ‘If they come at us en masse like they did before, you might at least take one or two out before they overrun us,’ he said grimly.
    At that moment somebody said, ‘Listen!’ and in the sudden quiet they realized the guns had fallen silent and from the far side of the canal a bugle sounded.
    â€˜That’s the cease fire!’ Ralph said, incredulously. ‘One more push and they would have had us on toast, and they’ve decided to pack up for the night. Praise God!’
    The sentiment was echoed all along the line and the order went round to stand down. Before long Tom found himself squatting by a campfire, eating bully beef and drinking tea strong enough to tan leather. He watched as Ralph made his rounds, setting sentries and joking with the men. He had never seen him in action as an officer before and it was clear that he was very good at his job, but Tom knew the real Ralph, underneath the uniform. Only he could guess what it had cost him to throw off the numbness of shock that had gripped him in the casualty station. At length, Ralph came and sat beside him and offered him a swig of brandy from his flask.
    â€˜Rotten job I gave you back there.’ He nodded towards the disused factory. ‘You all right?’
    â€˜Just about,’ Tom said. ‘I was glad to do something vaguely useful, after sitting up in that ivory tower all day.’
    â€˜Were you able to make some useful sketches?’
    â€˜I don’t know. I was too busy to think about it.’ Tom reached for his pad and flipped the pages.
    Ralph took it from him. ‘Bloody hell, Tom! You could see all this? Down here at ground level we only knew what was right in front of us – but an overview like this . . . It could be immensely useful in planning future tactics. You’d better show these to the CO when you get a chance.’
    It was too late to pursue the idea further and before long Tom rolled himself in his greatcoat and fell into an exhausted sleep. It seemed he had hardly dropped off before his batman was shaking him awake.
    â€˜Get up, sir! We’re withdrawing. Orders have just come round.’
    Tom blinked at him. ‘Withdrawing? You mean retreating? Why?’
    â€˜Sorry, sir. That’s just what I’ve been told. Lieutenant Malham Brown says he’ll meet you at the horse lines.’
    Stiff and chilled, Tom scrambled to his feet. The batman collected his belongings and followed as Tom plodded towards the area behind the lines where the horses were tethered. Ralph was already there, preparing to mount.
    â€˜What’s happening?’ Tom asked. ‘Why are we pulling back?’
    â€˜Ours not to reason why, old chap,’ Ralph responded. ‘Buck up and get mounted.’
    Dawn was breaking and as they moved out on to the road Tom saw that it was already crowded with men. They were not formed up in marching order, as they had been when they arrived, but were in small groups with men from different units mixed together. There was no sense of panic, in fact it was eerily quiet, a stream of ghostly shapes in the grey morning light.
    â€˜I don’t understand,’ Tom said. ‘Have we been defeated? I thought we had held them back.’
    Ralph looked at him with a hint of his old insouciant grin. ‘Strategic withdrawal. The BEF is going to quietly melt away. If the Boche knew we were withdrawing they’d be after us like a pack of hounds, but this way, by the time they wake up to the fact, we shall be over the hills and far