"Archer, Jeffrey - As the Crow Flies v0.9(txt)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Archer Jeffrey)

But Charlie's hearing was fully restored within a week and a smile appeared on his lips for the first time when he saw Grace standing by his side pouring him a cup of tea. They had granted her permission to move tents once she'd heard that an unconscious soldier named Trumper was lying down the line. She told her brother that he had been one of the lucky ones, blown up by a land mine, and only lost a toe not even a big one, she teased. He was disappointed by her news, as the loss of the big one also meant you could go home.

"Otherwise only a few grazes and cuts. Nothing serious and very much alive. Ought to have you back at the front in a matter of days," she added sadly.

He slept. He woke. He wondered if Tommy had survived.

"Any news of Private Prescott?" Charlie asked, after he had completed his rounds.

The lieutenant checked his clipboard and a frown came over his face. "He's been arrested. Looks as if he might have to face a court-martial."

"What? Why?"

"No idea," replied the young lieutenant, and moved on to the next bed.

The following day Charlie managed a little food, took a few painful steps the day after, and could run a week later. He was sent back to the front only twenty-one days after Lieutenant Makepeace had leaped up and shouted, "Follow me."

Once Charlie had resumed to the relief trenches he quickly discovered that only three men in his section of ten had survived the charge, and there was no sign of Tommy. A new batch of soldiers had arrived from England that morning to take their places and begin the routine of four days on, four days off. They treated Charlie as if he were a veteran.

He had only been back for a few hours when company orders were posted showing that Colonel Hamilton wished to see Lance Corporal Trumper at eleven hundred hours the following morning.

"Why would the commanding officer want to see me?" Charlie inquired of the duty sergeant.

"It usually means a court-martial or a decoration the governor hasn't time for anything else. And never forget that he also means trouble, so watch your tongue when you're in his presence. I can tell you, he's got a very short fuse."

At ten fifty-five hours sharp Lance Corporal Trumper stood trembling outside the colonel's tent almost as fearful of his commanding officer as of going over the top. A few minutes later the company sergeant major marched out of the tent to collect him.

"Stand to attention, salute and give your name, rank and serial number," barked CSM Philpott. "And remember, don't speak unless you're spoken to," he added sharply.

Charlie marched into the tent and came to a halt in front of the colonel's desk. He saluted and said, "Lance Corporal Trumper, 7312087, reporting, sir." It was the first time he had seen the colonel sitting on a chair, not on a horse.

"Ah, Trumper," said Colonel Hamilton, looking up. "Good to have you back. Delighted by your speedy recovery."

"Thank you, sir," said Charlie, aware for the first time that only one of the colonel's eyes actually moved.

"However, there's been a problem involving a private from your section that I'm hoping you might be able to throw some light on."

"I'll 'elp if I can, sir."

"Good, because it seems," said the colonel, placing his monocle up to his left eye, "that Prescott" he studied a buff form on the desk in front of him before continuing "yes, Private Prescott, may have shot himself in the hand in order to avoid facing the enemy. According to Captain Trentham's report, he was picked up with a single bullet wound in his left hand while lying in the mud only a few yards in front of his own trench. On the face of it such an action appears to be a simple case of cowardice in the face of the enemy. However, I was not willing to order the setting up of a court-martial before I had heard your version of what took place that morning. After all, he was in your section. So I felt you might have something of substance to add to Captain Trentham's report."

"Yes, sir, I certainly do," Charlie said. He tried to compose himself and go over in his mind the details of what had taken place almost a month before. "Once the Verey pistol 'ad been fired Lieutenant Makepeace led the charge and I went over the top after 'im followed by the rest of my section. The lieutenant was the first to reach the wire but was immediately 'it by several bullets, and there were only two men ahead of me at the time. They bravely went to 'is aid, but fell even before they could reach 'im. As soon as I got to the wire I spotted a gap and ran through it, only to see Private Prescott overtake me as he charged on towards the enemy lines. It must have been then that I was blown up by the land mine, which may well have knocked out Private Prescott as well. "

"Can you be certain it was Private Prescott who overtook you?" asked the colonel, looking puzzled.

"In the 'eat of a battle, it's 'ard to remember every detail, sir, but I will never forget Prescott overtakin' me."

"Why's that?" asked the colonel.

"Because 'e's my mate, and it annoyed me at the time to see 'im get ahead of me."