Field Service (20 page)

Drake came to Reid, saluted and said they were ready.

Reid wondered what to tell him. He took the documents concerning the man from Neuville from his case. ‘Business as usual, I suppose,' he said.

‘The cart's at the far side,' Drake said. He indicated the cart and its waiting horses at the rear of the station.

‘Take him straight through,' Reid said. He realized only then that it was unfair of him to order the men to return to take out the stones, and so he said nothing of his original plan for the day. ‘Then you can tell them to go.'

‘That was my intention,' Drake said.

A few minutes later, the solitary coffin was manhandled from the floor of the wagon at the rear of the train, and Drake and five others lifted it on to their shoulders and carried it into the depot, pausing only to allow Caroline to reach up and lay her small bunch of flowers on its lid.

Reid, Lucas and Benoît stood to one side as the casket was carried away.

Eventually, Reid saluted the coffin, and Lucas followed him.

Caroline and Benoît both bowed their heads and muttered separate prayers.

The pall bearers and their load were lost for a moment in the deep shadow of the depot before reappearing at the waiting cart a moment later.

Reid heard Drake calling to the man holding the reins, and then telling the men to return to the platform and whatever else waited to be unloaded and carried into the depot.

After this Drake came back.

‘Thank you,' Reid said to him.

The other men came through the shed singly and in pairs and started in their usual desultory manner to unload the remainder of the day's sparse cargo.

Caroline returned to Reid. ‘I had a note from Colonel Wheeler,' she said. ‘My nurses will definitely be here in a fortnight's time.'

Wheeler had never guaranteed specific delivery so far in advance before, and Reid guessed that the promise now had more to do with whatever else he was planning for the ceremony than with any need for expediency on her or the nurses' behalf.

‘I see,' he said.

‘I imagine he has a great deal else to consider,' she said, letting him know that she too was aware of Wheeler's as yet unformed plans.

‘I suppose so.'

‘He promised me their stones will arrive between now and then so that they might be put in place at the ceremony itself,' she said.

‘Of course.' It was customary to allow the freshly filled graves to settle for at least a month before they were topped up, levelled, and the stones and concrete foundations added. Any stone-laying at the actual arrival of the women's coffins would be done solely for the benefit of the watching crowd. Again, Reid revealed nothing of the contrivance. ‘I'm pleased,' he said, ‘that you've finally got a date after waiting for so long.'

Something distracted her, and she turned away from him to look along the platform. ‘Look,' she said.

Reid turned too and saw Benoît wiping his face with his handkerchief. Ernaux had climbed down from the train and stood beside his friend, his arm clasped across Benoît's shoulders.

‘He's remembering his son,' Reid said absently, as though the man's behaviour needed some explanation.

‘Of course he is,' Caroline said.

Lucas came to them and said he was leaving. He told them he intended riding on the train back to Amiens, where he hoped to pick up more of the paperwork regarding the retrievals at La Chapelette. He, too, paused to look at Benoît and Ernaux still standing at the platform's edge.

Closer by, the driver of the train climbed down and walked alongside his engine, tapping the shining wheels with an iron bar, creating a loud clanging sound which echoed all around them in the early-morning quiet.

AT THE START
of the following week, Reid travelled again with Lucas to Amiens to attend a Commission meeting there.

According to the agenda Wheeler had sent out in advance of the gathering, it now appeared that the building of the larger cemeteries further afield and the plans for the giant memorials to the missing were now of greater consequence to the Commission than the completion of the numerous smaller burial grounds already underway. It was equally obvious to anyone who knew Wheeler, and of his personal ambitions, that these larger sites and their monuments were of far greater interest to him as he continued to manoeuvre himself for promotion.

Reid and Lucas arrived at the designated hotel, however, to discover that neither Wheeler nor Jessop were present. A note was handed to Reid by the concierge, explaining that the two men had spent the previous evening in Paris and would be at least an hour late. It was hoped that the proceedings would await their arrival.

Others congregating there were given the same sparse information. It angered Reid that Wheeler had not seen fit to let them know of the delay sooner, but Lucas, as usual, was unconcerned by the news, remarking only that it gave them time to go to a nearby bar for a drink. When Reid pointed out that it was not yet mid-morning, Lucas only laughed and told him to please himself, just like Wheeler and Jessop clearly did.

The two men went together to a bar they had visited before, where Reid ordered coffee, and Lucas cognac.

Reid asked about the retrievals at La Chapelette, but nothing Lucas said of the place and its bodies revealed any of his usual concerns or commitment to the work. And when Reid asked him again if he had received any further news of his wife, Lucas simply shook his head, emptied the glass he held and returned to the bar.

When Wheeler and Jessop did finally arrive – closer to two hours late than one – Wheeler drew everyone together and told them of the work proposed for the monument at Ypres, in Belgium, and over which, therefore, he had no control or influence whatsoever. But both Reid and Lucas guessed by the way he spoke of the monument that he was already convinced of his own elevation within the Commission. Morlancourt and all the smaller cemeteries surrounding it had clearly become something of a backwater as far as Wheeler was concerned, and he was determined not to allow himself to be caught there.

He spoke of progress in most of the cemeteries as though the work on them was all but completed, and when Reid attempted to interrupt him and question these assumptions, Wheeler said there was no time for such discussions. He spoke as though Reid and not he had been the cause of their delay.

Lucas, Reid noticed, said nothing during Wheeler's hour-long speech. He sat low in his chair, his arms across his chest, his head bowed, and at times seemed half asleep in the warm and airless room.

Wheeler never once mentioned Lucas or his work, and this, Reid also saw, suited Lucas perfectly.

Prior to Wheeler's arrival, as Reid had watched Lucas rise unsteadily from where he was sitting in the bar – he had laughed and said he was exhausted – Reid had again suggested to him that he should apply for compassionate leave, but Lucas had insisted that he preferred to stay and complete his work. Reid knew not to persist in the matter, and knew too that he should certainly not intercede with Wheeler on Lucas's behalf.

Upon returning to the hotel, another of Wheeler's aides had taken the completed Prezière paperwork from Reid. When Reid had asked the man to sign for the documents, he had been told that this would not be necessary, and the man had walked swiftly away from him.

Now, sitting in the stifling atmosphere of the hotel room, and sensing that both Wheeler and Jessop were already guessing at the extent of Lucas's intoxication, Reid knew not to draw any further attention to him. All he wanted now – all either of them wanted – was for the meeting to come to an end and to leave Amiens.

Wheeler finally drew the gathering to a close at four in the afternoon by asking if anyone else at the table wished to share anything of importance. It was a common ploy of the man, knowing that most of them would be eager to leave and make the unpredictable journeys back to where they were stationed. He also made it equally clear to them all that, having spoken himself, there remained nothing of comparable importance left to be discussed.

A few minutes later, as Reid and Lucas were leaving the hotel, Jessop came to them and said that Wheeler would like to see them both. They could do nothing except accede to this, and Jessop led them back to the same room, in which Wheeler now waited alone. Having delivered the two men to him, Jessop left.

Lucas said bluntly that, having wasted the morning waiting, they now had a train to catch.

‘Of course you do, Lieutenant Lucas,' Wheeler said, and then, having considered Lucas's remark and his boldness in making it, added, ‘Quite.' He then turned his back on them, studying his reflection in the giant gilt-framed mirror that hung above the marble fireplace. ‘I merely wished to ascertain – to confirm, that is – that your work at La Chapelette was underway.'

‘And everything at Prezière finished, yes,' Lucas said.

It was telling that Wheeler had waited until the meeting was over and everyone else had departed before asking Lucas this.

‘I took delivery of the bodies five days ago,' Reid said.

‘And buried them?'

‘And buried them.' Both Jessop and Guthrie would already have told Wheeler this.

‘Excellent,' Wheeler said to Lucas. ‘Then rest assured, I shall include a commendation on your work when I next find myself answerable to my own superiors. You, too, Captain Reid.' In the mirror, he looked from Lucas to Reid and then back again. ‘I don't suppose …'

‘What?' Lucas said. ‘You don't suppose what?'

‘I was merely wondering,' Wheeler went on hesitantly, ‘whether or not Captain Reid had seen fit to bring his latest plans of the cemetery, so that I might better consider the necessity—'

‘I didn't,' Reid said. ‘If you'd told me beforehand that you needed them …' Both he and Lucas took pleasure in the man's discomfort.

‘No,' Wheeler said, and then, again, ‘Quite.'

‘Besides, the men are buried and the graves filled and marked,' Lucas said. ‘What difference will seeing the plots and the names on a plan make?'

‘Of course,' Wheeler said. ‘You're quite right; it will make no difference whatsoever. I suppose all I wanted was to satisfy myself that everyone involved in our task here was continuing to work to the same exemplary standards to which we at the Commission have become accustomed.'

‘Quite,' Lucas said, causing Wheeler to turn from the mirror and look directly at him.

‘I could send it to you,' Reid suggested, before Lucas could antagonize the man further.

‘That would be most appreciated, Captain Reid,' Wheeler said, his eyes still on Lucas, who was now considering a tray of decanters on a nearby table.

‘I'll send it to you first thing in the morning,' Reid said.

‘Better still, I shall send someone to Morlancourt to collect it from you. Shall we say noon? I'm sure everyone concerned will be only too relieved to see an end to the matter.'

‘Of course they will,' Lucas said, his voice low.

Wheeler ignored the remark. ‘I'm sure
you
, at least, take my meaning, Captain Reid,' he said, his slight emphasis more than making its point.

‘Of course,' Reid said. ‘We both understand you perfectly.' He turned to Lucas. ‘Don't we?'

‘Perfectly,' Lucas said eventually.

‘And Caroline Mortimer?' Wheeler said to Reid. ‘I suppose she's told you about her nurses finally coming. What is it, ten days now?'

‘Of course,' Reid said. He started to tell Wheeler about the problems he was experiencing with the water along the edge of the cemetery.

Wheeler laughed as he started speaking. ‘And the Commission men in Mesopotamia complain endlessly about shifting sand. At Lone Pine – Gallipoli, you know – they complain about having only bleached bones – no actual corpses as such – to gather up and bury. Mind, that's the colonials for you – all they ever seem to do is complain about one damn thing after another.'

There was a further silence as neither Reid nor Lucas responded to the remark as Wheeler had hoped.

‘In fact,' Wheeler went on, ‘I was hearing only yesterday of the need for experienced supervising officers out in that particular neck of the woods.'

‘Turkey?' Reid said.

‘And beyond. Persia, Mesopotamia, the so-called Holy Land, that sort of thing.' The remark, and the way Wheeler now looked at him, made Reid wary.

‘Are we finally building cemeteries out there, then?' Lucas said. It was something the Commission had long deliberated on. The families of the men killed in the Middle East campaigns did not feel the same way about their lost sons and husbands being buried there as those who had lost men in France and Belgium did.

‘We shall build them wherever honour and decency demand it of us, Lieutenant Lucas,' Wheeler said firmly, his eyes remaining on Reid as he spoke.

‘Of course we shall,' Lucas said.

‘We need capable men,' Wheeler said to Reid, confirming everything Reid was starting to consider. ‘Men who understand the rigours and extent of the challenge to be undertaken. And men who can now embrace and embody the ideals in which we are clothed.'

Lucas, too, sensed what Wheeler was suggesting, and said, ‘And men with time left to serve?' It was said solely to alert Reid, and Reid understood this.

‘Of course men with time left to serve,' Wheeler said. ‘You can't begin to imagine the headaches I've had concerning the loss of all our conscript and time-served labour.'

‘Funnily enough, I probably can,' Lucas said. He went to the decanters and poured himself a drink.

‘You want to transfer me elsewhere?' Reid finally said to Wheeler.

‘It was merely—'

‘Now? Before—'

‘Before what?' Wheeler said sharply. ‘Your work at Morlancourt is almost finished, surely? Surely the place can now be handed over to others to complete the finishing touches? Tell me – how many more bodies are you actually anticipating?'