The Cadet Sergeant Major (20 page)

Graham strode out to where Sgt Brown stood waiting. “OK, Sgt Brown, back to your platoon, and be up by 0530 dressed and ready to see the OC after Check Parade.”

“What's going to happen to me?” Brown asked. He was noticeably more anxious.

“I can't say,” Graham answered. He and Graham then walked back across the open ground in silence. Graham stopped on the edge of the 3 Platoon area. Brown walked on to his hutchie. Graham stood for a moment considering. He heard Brown and CUO White murmuring to each other.

As he did he sighed and shook his head. ‘What a shame!' he thought. ‘It spoils all our efforts.' Simmering with anger he turned and walked slowly back towards HQ. As he did he examined his own actions to try to decide what else he could have done to have prevented the incident. He was annoyed with himself as much as with Brown.

‘There but for the Grace of God go I!' he mused. He had the good grace to flush with shame over his flirting with Allison. He could understand the temptations but was annoyed Brown had lacked the will-power to withstand them.

But try as he might Graham could not single out any specific action he could have taken to prevent the incident. That didn't make it any easier. He still blamed himself. ‘I knew Brown was weak as a sergeant; and I did suspect him. I should have been more alert,' he told himself. He considered this then muttered angrily, “Blast it all! I have to depend on the sergeants!”

Back at HQ Graham first went to the toilet, then to his hutchie. Thankfully he crawled in and unrolled his bedding. As he unlaced his boots Peter spoke to him, “What was all that about Graham?”

“Sorry Pete. I didn't mean to wake you,” Graham replied.

“That's OK. I wasn't asleep. You don't have to tell me if I shouldn't know,” Peter replied.

Graham tugged off his boots. “Oh, you will know soon enough just from the gossip,” he answered. He then outlined the incident but not its probable consequences.

“What will happen to Brown?” Peter asked.

“I can't say. I recommended that he be demoted and replaced. I tell you, I am mighty disappointed. He has let us all down badly. He has undermined the reputation and discipline of all the sergeants,” Graham said.

Peter lay in the darkness, glad that Graham could not see his face. He felt as though a white hot knife was being driven through his conscience. Long after Graham was asleep Peter lay awake, racked by an agony of guilt, and to a lesser extent, fear.

‘What will happen to me if Kate talks?' he speculated. He considered making a clean breast of it by confessing. The thought of having to tell Graham and then Capt Conkey sent hot waves of shame through him. He had a long, miserable night, riven by remorse; cursing himself for being a weakling and a fool.

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Graham's subconscious woke him at 0520. He groaned and stretched, wishing he could sleep for a few more hours. It was cool but not cold. With an effort of willpower he sat up and began pulling on his boots. As he did so the sour memories of the previous night came flooding in. He swore quietly before shaking Peter. Knowing it would be a rushed morning he rolled up his bedding straight away before striding off to ensure the sergeants were awake.

Sgt Brown was. In the grey half-light he looked haggard.

“Be ready to front the OC straight after check parade,” Graham instructed. He did not linger but strode on.

Check Parade followed its usual course, enlivened by the sight of Clayfield shuffling off towards the latrine, his trousers noticeably wet, even in the semi-darkness. Graham watched closely but it seemed that word of Brown's actions had not spread beyond 4 Platoon. Brown's own platoon seemed quite normal.

No-one was missing and everyone had the correct equipment. Graham handed back to the sergeants and headed for the officer's fire. As he approached he saw all the officers and the four CUOs standing around it. Capt Conkey was speaking to them. Graham halted ten metres short, not sure if he should intrude or not.

A moment later the group broke up. Graham saw that CUO White had a sour look on his face. Capt Conkey called Graham over. “I have just told them. CUO White says he will accept Rankin. Go and get him please, and keep it quiet. If Rankin won't accept the job we will have to select someone else.”

“What happens to Sgt Brown sir?”

“I am going to demote him to corporal and move him to the Control Group in Rankin's place,” Capt Conkey replied.

Graham nodded. “I think that is best sir. He could not be in any of the platoons.”

Five minutes later Graham stood beside a mystified (and worried) Cpl Rankin while Capt Conkey explained to him the situation.

“So,” the OC concluded. “That is the position. Three Platoon needs a new sergeant and the CSM has recommended you. Will you accept the position?”

Graham watched Rankin's reactions carefully. He did not particularly like him and suspected the feeling was reciprocated. Like Graham he was a Third Year Cadet, and a Year 11 at school, though in another class.

Rankin did not immediately answer. He considered the offer carefully, biting his lower lip. Then he nodded. “Yes sir. I will accept it.”

“Good. You are now a sergeant. I won't, in the circumstances, be making any presentation on parade so go and see the CQ as soon as he gets back with the breakfast and get some stripes. Then get your gear and come to HQ. You will take over Three Platoon as soon as I have spoken to Brown.”

“Make sure you get the platoon Roll Book,” Graham added. He didn't know whether he should offer congratulations or not, but decided not to. It didn't seem right somehow. Brown was one of Rankin's friends.

Rankin turned away, his face a study in disbelief and the beginnings of pleasure.

Capt Conkey turned to Graham. “Well, Mrs Standish has spoken to the girls. They admit Brown was with them the night before when they weren't at the platoon campfire. They did not implicate CUO White but I suspect he was with them as well. So that is a real worry for us.”

“Yes sir,” Graham replied, his mind exploring the ramifications.

Capt Conkey went on, “The girls admit Brown arranged to meet them last night. So it was no accident.”

“He admitted it to me as well sir,” Graham added.

“So there is no doubt of his guilt. I am not going to dig into the sordid details. The girls have been severely cautioned and I am going to split them up. Ramsey is being moved to HQ where she is more under our eye.”

Graham agreed but groaned inwardly. ‘Another girl in HQ! As if there aren't enough problems already. Poor Pete!' he thought. “Yes sir,” he replied.

“Now go and get Sgt Brown for me.”

Graham headed for 3 Platoon, aware that dozens of eyes were now following his progress with intense interest. From 50 paces out he saw Brown looking his way so he stopped and beckoned. Brown walked over to join him and they marched back to the OC in silence. Even though they were in the field Graham saluted. It seemed appropriate in the circumstances.

The other officers, except the QM who was collecting breakfast, were nearby packing and preparing for the day. Capt Conkey met Brown standing, his face stony and a copy of the Cadet Policy Manual in his hand.

“Sergeant Brown, the two girls admit to being alone with you and another cadet two nights ago. They add that you met them last night by prior arrangement. You were caught in a compromising position by CUOs Bates and Sherry. Is this true?”

“Yes sir,” Brown replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Is there anything you want to say in your own defence?” Capt Conkey asked. His tone was distinctly chilly.

“No sir.”

Capt Conkey nodded grimly. “Because of your actions I can no longer trust you. You have let down the whole unit. You have deceived and hurt another sergeant. You have failed in your duty to your own platoon; and knowingly undermined the discipline in another. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

Capt Conkey's voice rose slightly as deep anger took hold. “What really hurts is the personal lack of loyalty, both to me, and to the unit. Your actions will cause harm to the unit's reputation for years. Parents and teachers will hear of it. Parents of good kids, especially those with daughters, will hesitate to let them join; or keep them out. Your actions have been selfish and reflect poorly on your own morals and self-control.”

Capt Conkey paused and looked hard at Brown who visibly blinked and wilted under the steely glare. He went on. “From a personal perspective your actions stink of ingratitude- of biting the hand that feeds. I've bent over backwards to make allowances for you, to give you chance after chance. And all along you have been flinging it back in my face. If it wasn't the bowie knife it was the earrings; or the headbands; or the foreign uniforms. Well, I've had enough!”

There was another uncomfortable pause before the OC went on. “The Policy Manual says that a cadet may be demoted for a breach of the Cadet Code of Behaviour. I believe you have broken the code in several important ways. This is the main one.” He paused to open the manual at a marked page. Then he read, “Recognize, prevent and report unacceptable behaviour, and it lists them and ends with or abuse of positions of responsibility.”

He looked hard at Brown who swallowed and broke into a sweat. Capt Conkey went on, “There is also the bit about staying true to the Cadet values of honour, courage, integrity, loyalty and teamwork, not to mention the ‘No touching' rule. You have really let down your platoon and Sgt Griffin. So, as of now you are demoted to corporal. Go and hand over Three Platoon to Sergeant Rankin. Then take yourself off and join the Control Group. And no more trouble or I will just ship you home and discharge you. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” Brown replied. He swallowed and set his jaw but Graham noticed his lips trembling slightly. Brown's eyes went misty but he restrained the tears.

Capt Conkey continued, “You may contest this by the proper means; ask for a review by a higher authoirity. The manual is here if you wish to study it.”

Brown nodded. “Yes sir. Sir.. er.. sir, will my parents be told?”

“Yes, and the army. That is my next unpleasant task,” Capt Conkey replied.

“Sir.. er.. do you have to?” Brown croaked. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and at that moment Graham felt genuinely sorry for him.

Capt Conkey nodded. “Yes. That is all. Dismiss! Carry on CSM.”

Graham marched Brown away. His own feelings were mixed: satisfaction that decisive, and to his mind, just action had been taken, and sympathy with Brown in his downfall.

He stopped after fifty paces and pointed to Sgt Rankin, already wearing a brassard with three stripes on his arm. “There is Sgt Rankin. Hand over to him. And have those stripes off by morning parade.”

Graham returned to mark the Company Roll. Capt Conkey sat down with a weary sigh and studied the day's program. Graham did not have time to complete the Roll. The return of the breakfast vehicle had him moving. He saw Rankin still talking to Brown near the parked vehicles. Standing up he called, “Sgt Rankin. Go and collect Three Platoon and move them to breakfast. They will be first. Sgt Bronsky, get HQ over to set up.”

As the QM's vehicle pulled up Graham marched over to it. On the way he rubbed the stubble on his chin and realized he had not shaved.

‘There goes the leisurely breakfast,' he thought.

As soon as Peter woke he was assailed by fear and remorse. He did not look at Kate as she crawled out of her hutchie. By listening to their conversations while they formed two ranks it was apparent HQ had not yet heard about Brown. Peter marched them over to parade and called the roll, hardly daring to look them in the eye.

‘Won't be long before the word spreads,' he mused. As he stood in front of HQ to report he burned with shame. He knew Kate's eyes would be on his back and that made it worse. As he marched them back after parade he wrestled with his conscience.

‘What a hypocrite I am! I should just tell the OC and get it over with,' he thought. He ordered ‘Halt', then ‘Fall out'. His eyes met Kate's. What was she thinking? She did not smile and appeared to pointedly look away. Peter tried to determine her mood. Was she sad? She looked it. Did she feel regret? Will she talk? His stomach knotted in fear at the thought.

As he rolled his bedding another thought came to him. ‘I can't just admit to the OC. It doesn't only involve me. Kate is part of it. She will get into trouble too. She could lose her corporal's stripes- or worse, be sent home in disgrace. I can't tell just to ease my conscience.'

Peter decided to wait and see what fate Brown and the two girls suffered. In an attempt to push things from his mind he plunged into his duties. While doing this he kept watching what was going on over at the officer's fire. He noted Brown being taken over by a grim faced Graham.

‘HQ still haven't heard the gossip,' Peter decided. His stomach swilling with apprehension he chivvied them to hurry as it was nearly time for breakfast. A person appeared beside him.

“What do you want Cpl Rankin?” Peter asked.

“Sergeant Rankin. I have to get some stripes from the CQMS. Is Staff Costigan here?” Rankin replied.

Peter gaped in surprise. “Costigan has gone to get breakfast. What is the story?”

“I am the new platoon sergeant for Three Platoon.”

For a moment Peter was too stunned to respond as the shock hit him. His mind seemed to freeze up at the implications. He gestured to where Brown stood in front of the OC.

“What is happening to Sgt Brown?”

“Not sure. Going to the Control Group I think,” Rankin replied.

Peter nodded. He remembered the midnight conversation with Graham. Rankin now related a similar version of the story to him, concluding with, “That is why I need the sergeant's stripes. The OC just promoted me.”

“I can lend you a brassard,” Peter offered. He dug in his kitbag and produced the article. “Congratulations,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” Rankin replied. He was plainly pleased but embarrassed. As he fastened the rank brassard to his sleeve Peter noted several curious looks from members of HQ. They were now aware that something unusual was happening.

The two sergeants watched Graham march Brown away from the OC. Graham saw them and pointed. Brown walked towards them, looking very upset. Peter did not wish to speak to him so he moved away. Shaving occupied the next few minutes. While he shaved Peter kept glancing out of the corner of his eye at Brown and Rankin, who stood talking near the vehicles. Peter was consumed by curiosity. What was Brown's fate? And would it be his?

Graham's voice came to him. “Sgt Rankin, go and collect Three Platoon and move them to breakfast. Sgt Bronsky, get HQ over to set up.”

Peter wiped soap from his face. “OK HQ, line up!”

The fact that Rankin, wearing sergeant's rank, marched 3 Platoon over for their meal opened a deluge of gossip and rumour. Peter stood supervising HQ, who were serving the cadets as they filed past. He listened to the gossip.

“Brown has been sacked!”

“Brown has been demoted for sneaking off with a girl.”

“With TWO girls!”

“Two! Lucky bugger!”

“Brown has lost his stripes for having sex with one of those tarts in Four Platoon.”

Peter watched Kate closely. As soon as she heard the first rumour she looked around at him. She did not smile. Instead she gave him a hard look and turned away. He went cold with fear, then hot with shame. Would she talk?

The worry gnawed at him, along with the humiliating knowledge that he had compromised himself. The awful realization dawned that Kate now had a real hold on him. She could blackmail him if she chose. He shook his head to dispel the thought. ‘Kate wouldn't do that. She is a nice person,' he told himself. But the niggling doubt remained. He realized he really knew very little about her.

Graham came through at the end of the mess queue.

“You look down Pete. Is that upset stomach still bothering you?”

“No,” Peter replied, but as he said it his stomach turned over and his bowels felt watery. “Headache. I didn't sleep very well.”

“It looks it,” Graham replied, concern clear in his voice.

Peter felt a hot flush of shame. ‘I've let down my best mate!' he thought wretchedly.

His discomfiture increased after breakfast when Cadet Ramsey arrived with her gear. She was all sulky and defiant. It was obvious she resented her transfer; and what people were saying about her. She dumped her gear. That raised not only the problem of where she was to sleep, but also of her effect on morale. Peter indicated two trees for her to use to tie her hutchie to. He had no time for more worry as Graham called to him to get HQ on parade.

The parade followed the usual sequence. Peter stood out the front of HQ dreading what might be coming. During ‘Reports' Rankin's voice giving 3 Platoon's numbers was a sharp reminder to Peter of what his own fate might soon be. He watched Graham hand over to the 2ic. The CUOs were posted. Then the OC took over.

To Peter's surprise Capt Conkey made no mention of Brown, or of misbehaviour. ‘I suppose there is no need,' he thought gloomily. ‘He is Corporal Brown now and everybody knows it; and knows why!'

Instead Capt Conkey described the Section Competition which was to follow. The officers and sergeants were fallen out for a briefing while the section corporals were sent to do some last minute training. They had 45 minutes for this while the ‘Stands' for the competition were set up. Peter divided HQ into two sections for the competition: the Medics and one he called HQ Section made up of the ‘Q', Signals and Intelligence. Ramsey was placed in Signals.

At the briefing Capt Conkey made no mention of the night's happenings but concentrated on the morning's tasks. The Section Competition was a ‘Bullring' of activities which the sections would rotate through. At each ‘Stand' were one or more staff members, depending on the complexity of the activity. The OC pointed out the location of each activity, with waiting areas in the shade on either side. Then he nominated the people to run each stand. Lt Maclaren issued mark sheets and any stores required.

Peter was on the Navigation Stand, along with CUO Sherry and Stephen. They were given mark sheets, maps and compasses. Capt Conkey then took the others and positioned them at their stands. Graham gathered the company in the shade for Capt Conkey to explain to them what they had to do. Sections were then led to waiting areas and the competition began.

All this was just a blur to Peter. One after another he called cadets individually from their waiting area, asked them the set questions on map reading. He gave each the compass and checked whether they could take a bearing, and set the compass for night use on a given bearing. Then he totalled their marks and sent them on to the next waiting area.

It was non-stop for three hours. Peter went on working as though he was in a nightmare. At any moment he expected the dread summons to report to the OC. The arrival of HQ Section in the waiting area renewed his worries. Luckily he was spared having to question Kate as CUO Sherry called her first. Peter wiped perspiration from his eyes and took a drink from his waterbottle. For a minute he tried to relax and looked around.

Under a nearby tree Capt Conkey had the Control Group. He was briefing them for the Senior Exercise due to begin that night. Brown sat amongst them looking very depressed. Beyond them stood Graham, cane under his arm and clipboard in hand, while he assessed each section at Drill. Peter made a wry smile.

‘Graham is a good CSM. He really looks the part. And the cadets respect him because he knows his stuff- and he is fair.' Peter's remorse returned and he bit his lip. ‘Shame, regret, remorse, trapped!' he told himself bitterly. ‘What is done cannot be undone. As the Bible says: “I have made my bed and must lie in it”.' He sighed and called the next cadet.

From the Navigation Stand the sections went to an Observation Exercise in which teamwork was the key. Next was a task requiring the carrying of awkward sized logs a hundred metres, also a team activity. From there they went to Graham for the drill, then to radio stripping and assembling. There was a stand where cadets had to answer individually questions on general military knowledge. The results were then calculated as section averages. The same thing happened at the Pioneering stand. Also in the bullring were a First Aid stand, a team memory test and a physical team event, where the section had to run around a 50 metre circuit for 5 minutes, the number of laps being calculated on the slowest person in the section.

It was a relief to finish the competition but there was no time to relax. Instead a burst of activity ensued. The unit was moving camp. The First Year platoons were marching to Black Knoll where they would spend the night doing defence training. The senior cadets were to do a night exercise, the details of which remained a secret. Within a quarter of an hour all the hutchies came down. Gear was packed ready for the march. Spare gear was stowed in kitbags which were placed in neat lines beside the vehicle track. They would be loaded on the truck.

Sergeants took work parties to the CQMS and were issued Ration Packs. The Signal Section assembled and tested their radios. Groups of cadets scoured the area ‘emu-bobbing' to ensure there was no litter. Sand was shovelled over the ashes of fires. Waterbottles were filled. Within half an hour it was all done. Lunch arrived.

During the meal Peter sat where he could look at Kate. To his dismay and disappointment she did not look at him once. It made him even more confused and worried.

As soon as lunch had been eaten the First Year platoons shouldered their packs and filed off into the bush towards the Canning. The Control Group loped off in the other direction, leaving the ‘Seniors': HQ and 4 Platoon, sitting in two groups in the shade near the vehicles.

Graham organized Peter and Sgt Griffin to have work parties fill in the latrines. Staff Costigan had all the stores and kitbags loaded onto the truck. Graham did a last walk around the area to ensure it was clean, then reported to the OC.

Capt Conkey nodded. “Thanks CSM. Into the Rover,” he ordered. Lt Standish also climbed in and the Rover was driven to Black Knoll. The 2ic, QM and ‘Q' personnel went in the other Rover and the truck to the army camp. Only Lt McEwen was left, with the staff car as safety vehicle.

Denton sat in the shade and watched. “What do we do now Sergeant?” she asked.

“We rest and wait for orders,” Peter replied.

“When does this exercise start?”

“I don't know. Not till the Control Group and First Years are in position I suppose,” Peter answered.

To avoid further conversation he settled back against his pack and closed his eyes. He felt very tired and the afternoon heat made him drowsy.

“E-e-e-e-e-k!” screamed Denton.

Peter jerked awake.

Denton screamed again. “A pig! A pig!” she cried.

Peter looked. A huge black wild pig, a real ‘Razor-back' boar, had come trotting out of the gully where the girl's latrine had been. At Denton's scream it stopped, lowered its head and snorted.

“Stay still! Be quiet!” Peter commanded.

Instead Denton let out a wail and stood up. The boar saw the movement and began to emit savage grunts. Into Peter's mind crowded stories of people being torn to bits by such creatures. He knew there was no hope of fighting with such an animal without proper weapons. Nor could they hope to outrun it. The monster was only fifty paces away.

The pig made a lumbering rush, then stopped and sniffed the air. It swivelled its head towards 4 Platoon who also scrambled to their feet in alarm. The pig became very agitated. Denton did not wait. She scuttled to the nearest tree and began to shinny up. The tree was not very thick and was a smooth-barked gum tree with no branches near the ground. Unable to get a proper grip Denton embraced the tree and tried to climb with a series of spasmodic jerks accompanied by much puffing.

The pig began pawing the ground and throwing dust in the air. Peter knew it was a potentially deadly crisis. He saw Lt McEwen's worried face over at the car.

“Everyone shout and run towards it,” Peter yelled. He let out a terrific bellow and threw his arms up, then began running at the pig. “Yell!” he screamed. “Yell and follow me.”

To his relief CUO Bates took up the cry, urging 4 Platoon to charge. Others began yelling and running. The pig spun round and round in alarm. It made several short rushes, then suddenly turned and bolted. Peter was absolutely appalled by the speed at which the pig ran. ‘If it had attacked we would have stood no chance,' he thought.

As the pig vanished into the bushes Peter stopped, chest heaving, and wiped his brow theatrically. People laughed from nervous relief. This changed to real laughter. Peter turned to see what they were laughing about. It was Denton. She had managed to get about three metres up the tree but was now slowly sliding back down. In the process she had split the seat of her trousers right around to expose pink knickers.

She slid down, face crimson with effort and embarrassment. The cadets settled themselves back on their packs, the pig being the main topic of conversation.

“Strewth! Couldn't the bugger run!” Henning commented. “We would never have outrun it.”