Combed Out Part 3

"D'you refuse to obey the order? Get back at once, or I'll have you put under arrest."

I turned away and the blood rushed into my face with vexation. I even forgot my numb feet in thinking of the long dreary day before me, with no one to talk to.

"Corporal Locke's party!"

I saw another friend of mine fall out and I went with him. Corporal Locke counted his men and found he had one too many. He looked down the ranks, he saw me, and said:

"You don't belong to my party--you'll have to go somewhere else."

"I want to work with Private Black--I've been on your party before."

"I don't remember you. Anyhow, you weren't with me yesterday--I'm sorry, but I can't have you."

"n.o.body'll notice the difference."

"I'm sorry; the S.M. has told me off once already for having too many men on my party. He went off the deep end [lost his temper] about it and said I'd get him into trouble. I can't let you stay."

One after another the fatigue parties were called out and I fell in with my own, the last of all and about eighty strong. Sergeant Hyndman was in charge.

The Sergeant-Major blew his whistle and shouted, "Move off!" and one by one the N.C.O.'s gave the words of command:

"Party--Tshn! Into File--Right Turn! By the Right--Quick March!"

As we pa.s.sed out of the camp each of us drew a shovel or a pick from a great heap of tools near the entrance.

We got on to the road and formed fours, and at last began the longed-for march which would restore our circulation and warm our frozen feet.

The snow was still falling heavily and the wind blew it into our faces.

We bowed our heads and pulled our caps down over our eyes. Our feet began to glow but our ears became painfully cold instead. We held our hands over them and as our ears grew warm our fingers became numb and frozen, so that we put our hands back into our pockets (although it was against regulations) and tried to think of something else.

Gradually, however, I became warm in every member and was filled with a sense of physical comfort that released my thoughts from immediate, material things. I thought of home and made plans for the future. I had a long, stubbornly contested argument with an imaginary opponent about the issues of the war. And then physical discomfort made itself felt again, all my free and wandering thoughts were gathered in by a wide-flung net and roughly thrown into a narrow dungeon.

I was growing unpleasantly hot and I longed to get rid of my heavy, sodden great-coat. The strap of my haversack was making my shoulder ache. I became peevish and fretful once more.

We swung along the road with rapid strides. Some of the feebler marchers showed signs of weariness and began to grumble at our speed. There was an ironical shout of "Double up in front," whereupon the front fours slowed down a little.

The wind increased in power and the snow flew past us in horizontal lines obscuring the Flemish landscape. We marched on in silence for an hour or more until suddenly the front fours halted and all the others thronged up against them. We had reached our destination.

There was a broad-gauge railway. On one side of it huge stacks of sleepers stretched away in long rows that were soon lost to sight in the wintry atmosphere. On the other side was a barbed wire fence. Beyond it lay flat fields on which the snow had settled evenly. In one of the fields was the dim form of a farm-building, barely visible through the rush and turmoil of dancing snowflakes.

A Sergeant of the Royal Engineers came up and told us what our work would be. We were to carry all the sleepers across the line and stack them in four rows on the far side of the fence.

"Is it a task job?" we asked.

The Sergeant did not know.

"What did they make us bring our shovels for?"

A voice, mocking such a nave questioner, answered:

"Don't yer know the army be now?"

We broke down a section of the fence. Two men were a.s.signed to each stack. They loaded each sleeper on to the shoulders of a couple of men who carried it across the railway lines into the field, where it would be received and stacked by other men.

Hour by hour we trudged to and fro in pairs, bearing our wet and heavy loads. We lost consciousness of everything except driving snow, squelching mud, aching backs and sore shoulders. When one shoulder became so sore that mere contact with our load was intensely painful, we changed over to the other, until that too became bruised, and then we would change back again. And so on, hour by hour.

Our legs seemed as heavy as lead and yet they seemed to move of their own accord without any effort of the will. Our minds became blurred and numb--a numbness that was broken from time to time by a sharp stab of pain whenever a sleeper was placed across our shoulders.

"For Christ's sake, let's 'ave a blow," said my partner suddenly.

I looked at my watch. It was a quarter-past ten--nearly two hours more till lunch!

We observed that only a small number of men were working, and my partner blurted out:

"I ain't goin' ter do more'n me share. There's a lot o' fellers swingin'

the lead be'ind them stacks. I'm goin' ter 'ave a bit of a rest, I'm b.l.o.o.d.y well done up."

We both went behind a stack and found that a crowd of men had gone there before us. One of them shouted cheerfully: "Here come two more leadswingers!" [idlers] We leaned against the wood and rested, but a few minutes had hardly pa.s.sed when a Corporal appeared and shouted peremptorily: "Come on out o' that--get on wi' yer job an' put a jerk in it." We struggled reluctantly back to our work.

The wearisome, monotonous trudge began again. As the first stacks disappeared the journey became longer and longer. I again looked at my watch--it was twenty to eleven. The quarter-past ten seemed several hours ago! The way the time dragged drove us to despair. But there was no escape--we had to live through every minute of this dismal day.

My partner and I worked on in silence. Gradually the men slackened their pace and tried to miss their turn. We did the same. Others, who were behind us, followed suit, refusing to do more than their share. Our progress became slower and slower until at length it stopped altogether.

There was a long straggling queue in front of the half-demolished stack.

The first pair of men refused to take the sleeper held in readiness for them, protesting that there were others who ought to have gone before, and the others refused to work until the first two had taken their turn.

A deadlock ensued and then a Sergeant came up with "What's the matter now? This ain't a bleed'n' picnic! Don't yer know there's a war on? Yer like a lot o' school kids. Go an' get a b.l.o.o.d.y move on!"

A chorus of voices a.s.serted that some people couldn't play the game and were swinging the lead and dodging their turn. Thereupon the Sergeant formed us up into two ranks and ordered us to proceed with the work.

This interruption made at least a portion of our time pa.s.s more quickly.

Then we continued our wearisome tramp. An age seemed to pa.s.s. I looked at my watch, but it was only twenty-three minutes after eleven. To and fro we went with bruised shoulders, aching backs and numbed intelligence. I fell into a kind of semi-conscious state. Suddenly the whistle blew for lunch. How quickly the last twenty-seven minutes seemed to have pa.s.sed!

It was good to have an hour's rest before us. As for the afternoon, well, there was no need to think about it, for it was still a long way off. Besides, somehow or other, the afternoons always seemed to pa.s.s more quickly than the mornings. Moreover, we had paraded an hour earlier than usual, so perhaps we would also stop work an hour earlier.

"'Urry up an' dror yer tea," our Sergeant shouted. "Yer only gettin'

'alf an hour fur yer dinner--we've got ter git the job done ter-day."

"Why didn' yer tell us it was a task job? Gorblimy--we ain't done 'alf of it! We won't get 'ome afore five or six o'clock ter-night."

"_I_ can't 'elp it, 'tain't _my_ fault. Yer've got ter git it done, them's me orders!"

There was vociferous grumbling and swearing that continued while we formed a queue and filed past a man who poured tea in our mugs from three large dixies.

We sat down by the stacks wherever we could find shelter from the wind.

We were still hot and perspiring after our morning's labours. We ate our rations in silence, for the resentful shouting had died down and had given way to a sullen quiet.

When we had finished our meal we stared vacantly at the snowflakes that were blown over the top of the stack above our heads and whirled round and round in front of our eyes. Gradually we began to feel the cold again. Many of us got up and walked about, for it was nipping our feet.

I was stiff in every limb and full of bitter thoughts. I hoped the half-hour would be over soon.

At length the Sergeant blew the whistle and shouted: