No Man's Land (35 page)

Bruay was built on two sides of a valley, and their billets were naturally in the poorer part of the town; in one of the uniform streets which always seem to lay stress on the monotony of modern industrial life. It was a quarter given up to miners. The street, in which A Company had billets, was only about a hundred yards long, led nowhere, and ended abruptly, as though the builders had suddenly tired of their senseless repetition. But it was all very clean; dull and dingy, but clean. Some of the houses were empty, and Bourne, Shem, and Martlow, with the rest of their section, were in one of these empty houses. The town, however, was for the most part earlier than the days when towns came to be planned. You could see that the wisdom of cattle, which in such matters is greater than the wisdom of man, had determined the course of many of its sinuous streets, as they picked their way to and from their grazing, guided only by the feel of the ground beneath them, and the gradients with which they were confronted. So the town still possessed a little charm and character. It had its
Place,
its sides all very unequal, and all of it on the slope. Even the direction of the slope was diagonally across it, and not merely from side to side or end to end. Perhaps the cattle had determined that too, for the poor fool man has long since lost his nature. Houses in the older parts of the town, though modest and discreet, still contrived to have a little air of distinction and individuality. They refused to be confounded with each other. They ignored that silly assumption that men are equal. They believed in private property.

It was obviously the intention of authority that the men should be given an opportunity to have a bon time. They were to be paid at two o'clock, and then were free to amuse themselves.

‘You're comin' out with me tonight,' said Martlow to Bourne decisively.

‘Very well,' said Bourne, dumping his pack on the floor of the room they occupied, and opening the window. They were upstairs; and he looked out and down, into the street. There were five or six corporals, and lance-corporals, standing just outside; and both Corporal Greenstreet and Lance-Corporal Jakes spotted him immediately, and shouted for him to come. He went, a little reluctantly, wondering what they wanted.

‘You're the man we was lookin' for,' said Corporal Greenstreet. ‘The sergeants are runnin' a sergeants' mess for the couple of days we'll be 'ere; an' we don't see why we can't run a corporals' mess.'

‘Well, run one, Corporal,' said Bourne distinterestedly. ‘There's nothing in King's Regs. against it, so far as I know.'

‘Well, we can't run it ourselves. That's where you come in, you know the lingo a bit, an' you always seem able to get round the old women. A corporal don't get a sergeant's pay, you know, but we want to do it as well as we can. There'll be eight of us; Jakes, Evans, an' Marshall are in billets 'ere, an' we could 'ave the mess 'ere, if she'd do the cookin'. You 'ave a talk to 'er.'

‘This is all very well,' said Bourne reasonably; ‘but now we're in a decent town I want to have a good time myself. I've just told Martlow I should go out with him tonight.'

‘Well, I've got 'im down for company guard tonight.'

‘Have you, Corporal? Well, you just take him off company guard, or there's absolutely nothing doing. Every time we arrange to go out on a bit of a spree together, he, or Shem, or myself are put on company guard. I was on last night.'

‘Well, Sergeant-Major Robinson told me to put you on guard last night, 'e said it would do you good, you were gettin' a bit fresh.'

‘I guessed that,' said Bourne. ‘He didn't want to be nasty, of course, but he thought he would give me a reminder. I don't mind taking my share of guards. But, if you put one of us on, you might just as well put us all on together, and make a family party of it. I don't mind helping you to run a mess, but I want to have a good time, too.'

‘Well, you muck in with us,' said Corporal Greenstreet.

‘An' you needn't put anythin' in the kitty,' added Lance-Corporal Jakes.

‘Oh, thanks all the same, but I like to pay my own way,' said Bourne coolly. ‘I don't mind going in and asking madame what can be done in the matter; and then, if we can come to some arrangement, I shall see about buying the grub; but before things go any further, it has got to be clearly understood that neither Shem, nor Martlow, is on any guard tonight. We three are going out on a spree together. I shall muck in with you tomorrow night.'

‘That's all right,' said Corporal Greenstreet hastily. ‘I'll get some other bugger for the bloody guard, if there is a guard. I've 'ad no orders yet.'

‘It's just as well to take the possibility into consideration,' said Bourne; ‘but mind you, you would do it just as well on your own, without me.'

‘Come on. You parlez-vous to the old woman,' said Corporal Greenstreet, and hurried him through the house into the forefront of the battle, which was the kitchen. Madame was a very neat and competent-looking woman, and she faced Bourne with her two daughters acting as supports immediately behind her. Bourne got through the preliminary
politesses
with a certain amount of credit. She had already understood that the corporals required her assistance in some way, but they had failed apparently to make matters clear.

‘Qu'est-ce que ces messieurs désirent?' she inquired of Bourne, coming to the point with admirable promptitude, and when he explained matters they launched into a discussion on ways and means. Then Bourne turned to Corporal Greenstreet.

‘I suppose it is pukka that we stay here two nights, is it?'

‘That's accordin' to present plans. Of course you can't be certain of anything in the bloody army. Does it make any differ to 'er?'

‘Not much,' said Bourne. ‘You can have grilled fillet of steak with fried onions, and chips and beans, or you can have a couple of chickens. I am wondering what sort of sweet you can have.'

‘Could we 'ave a suet puddin' wi' treacle?'

‘No, I don't think so,' said Bourne reflectively. ‘I don't think the French use suet much in cooking, and anyway I don't know the French for suet, if they do.
Suif
is lard, I think. Could you pinch a tin of pozzy out of stores? Then you might have a sweet omelette with jam in it. Perhaps it would be better to buy some decent jam, you don't want plum and apple, do you? Only I want to make the money go as far as possible. I like those little red currants in syrup which used to come from Bar-le-Duc.'

‘Get 'em. I don't care a fuck where they come from. We don't want any bloody plum an' apple when we can get better. An' don't you worry about the money, not in reason anyway. They've only let us come 'ere for a couple of days to 'ave a bon time before they send us up into the shit again. Might just as well get all we can, while we can.'

Bourne turned to Madame again, and asked her if she would do the marketing for them, and the upshot of it was that they both agreed to go together. Bourne turned to Corporal Greenstreet and asked him about money.

‘Will it do if we all put twenty francs into the kitty to start with?'

‘I don't think I shall want so much: give me ten each, and if that isn't enough, then you can each give me up to another ten. I am going to let her buy the wine because she knows somebody in the trade, and says she can get us good sound wine, which you don't get in estaminets, fairly cheap.'

‘Dinner's up, Corporal,' said Corporal Marshall, putting his head in the door; and thanking Madame, they left to get their meal rather hurriedly.

‘Where've you bin?' said Martlow indignantly to Bourne, and Shem burst out laughing at the way in which the question was put.

‘What the bloody 'ell is 'e laughin' at?' said Martlow, his face all in a pucker.

‘I have been doing my best to get you off company guard tonight.'

‘Me!' exclaimed Martlow. ‘Me, on bloody company guard tonight, an' the only cushy town we've been in! It's a bugger, ain't it? D'you mean to say they 'ad me on bloody guard?'

‘Well, I have taken on the job of rationing officer to the corporals' mess, on condition they find someone else in your place: that is if they should mount a guard tonight; they may give it a miss. It isn't a bad stew today, is it? Seems to me a long time since we had any fresh meat, except for a few weevils in the biscuits. As soon as I have had dinner, I shall go off with Corporal Greenstreet, and make the other corporals ante up. Then I shall be back in time to get my pay; and afterwards I shall go out and do the marketing with Madame. When we have had tea, the three of us had better hop it to the other side of the town right away, in case they come along and pinch us for any fatigues. There's a cinema, up there. And look here, Martlow, you're not going to pay for everything tonight, see? We shall have to make the most of our opportunity to have a bon time, as it may be our last chance. I hate the thought of dying young.'

‘Well, I'll stan' the supper,' said Martlow reasonably. ‘I've got about three weeks' pay, an' me mother sent me a ten-bob note. I wish she wouldn't send me any money, as she wants all she gets, but there's no stoppin' 'er.'

‘Shem can pay for the drinks afterwards. Of course, he has got money. To be a Jew and not to have money would be an unmitigated misfortune. Enough to make one deny the existence of Providence. He never will offer to pay unless you make him. He wouldn't think it prudent. But all the same, if you are broke to the wide, Shem will come down quite handsomely; he doesn't mind making a big splash then, as it looks like a justification of his past thrift. Shem and I understand each other pretty well, only he thinks I'm a bloody fool.'

‘I don't think you're a bloody fool,' said Shem indulgently; ‘but I think I could make a great deal more use of your brains than you do.'

‘Shem thinks he is a practical man,' said Bourne, ‘and a cynic, and a materialist; and would you believe it, Martlow, he had a cushy job in the Pay Office, to which all his racial talent gave him every claim, and he was wearing khaki, and he had learnt how to present arms with a fountain-pen: the most perfect funk-hole in Blighty, and he chucks the whole bloody show to come soldiering! Here you are, clean out my dixie, like a good kid, and my knife and fork. I must chase after these corporals. I wouldn't trust any of them round the corner with a threepenny bit; not unless I were a sergeant.'

He found Corporal Greenstreet ready, and they set off together; the corporal had collected all the money except from Corporal Farman and Lance-Corporal Eames.

‘What about Corporal Whitfield?' Bourne asked him.

‘'e's no bloody good,' said Greenstreet. ‘'e never will join in with us in anything. Do you know, 'e gets at least one big parcel out from 'ome every week, an' I've never seen 'im give away a bite yet. In any case, 'e's no good to us. 'e's a Rechabite.'

‘What the hell is that?' inquired Bourne, somewhat startled.

‘I don't know. It's some kind o' sex or other, I think. They don't drink, an' they don't smoke either; but you ought to see the bugger eat. 'e's no bloody good to us.'

‘I don't know anything about him,' Bourne explained.

‘No, an' you don't want to,' said Greenstreet earnestly. ‘I'm in the same billets as I was last time, but I 'aven't 'ad time to look in on 'em yet. An old maid owns the 'ouse, an' she 'as an 'ousekeeper: cook'ousekeeper, I should say. They're very decent to all us. Respectable people, you know; I should say the old girl 'ad quite a bit o' rattle to 'er. Lives comfortable anyway. Likes you to be quiet an' wipe your feet on the mat. You know.'

The house was in one of the streets leading off the
Place
; and it had a gate at the side giving access to a small yard, with a garden, half flowers, half vegetables; there was a tree bright with early red apples, and a pollarded plane with marvellously contorted branches and leaves already yellowing. Corporal Farman was just coming out of the door, as they entered the gate, and he handed over his ten francs cheerfully. He and Corporal Greenstreet were perhaps the two best-looking men in the battalion, fair-haired, blue-eyed and gay-complexioned. The
ménagère,
recognizing the latter, waved a welcome to him from the doorway.

‘She's been askin' about you, Corporal.'

‘Bonjour, Monsieur Greenstreet,' she cried, rolling each ‘r' in her throat.

‘Bongjour, madame, be there in 'arf a tick. I'll meet you up at the company office, Corporal, and show you the billets. Bourne's runnin' the show.'

Farman waved a hand, and departed on his own business. Corporal Greenstreet and Bourne went into the house, after using the door-mat rather ostentatiously; but even so the
ménagère
looked a little suspiciously at Bourne.

‘Vous n'avez pas un logement chez nous, monsieur,' she said firmly.

‘C'est vrai, madame; mais j'attends les ordres de monsieur le caporal.'

He spoke deliberately, with a little coldness in his manner,
de haut en bas,
as it were, and after a further penetrating glance in his direction, she ignored him for the moment. Corporal Greenstreet left his pack in a room off the kitchen, but one step higher and with a wooden floor instead of tiled; then he returned, and the woman opened on him rapidly, expressing her pleasure at seeing him, and her further gratification at seeing him so obviously in good health. He did not understand one word of what she said, but the pleasure and recognition in her face flattered him agreeably.

‘Ah, oui, madame,' he said with a gallant effort.

‘Mais vous n'avez pas compris, monsieur.'

‘Ah, oui, compris, madame. Glad to be back, compris? Cushy avec mademoiselle.'

The expression on the face of the
ménagère
passed very rapidly from astonishment to indignation, and from indignation to wrath. Before Corporal Greenstreet realized what was about to happen, she had swung a muscular arm, and landed a terrific box on his ear, almost knocking him into a scuttle containing split wood and briquettes for the stove. Bourne, thinking with a rapidity only outstripped by her precipitate action, decided that the Hindustani ‘cushy' and the French ‘coucher' must have been derived from the same root in Sanskrit. He interposed heroically between the fury and her victim, who without any hesitation had adopted the role of a non-combatant in trying circumstances.