Alone In The Trenches Read Free Page B

be found, you call on me or the corporal. We’re family men with daughters or sisters back home ’bout the same age as you.”
    *
    Les Roses
was a handsome building of three stories with four large sash windows on each side of the steps which swept up to its gracious front door. There was a strong
smell of polish around the hallway from the wood panels and banisters, but where there was paint, it was chipped, and the paper on the walls above the stairs was beginning to peel. It was a
soldiers’ house now. Rough and ready would do.

    “There’s a toilet and bathroom just here,” said Charlie, opening a door at the top of the first flight of stairs, and then closing it again. “And tonight, because no one
can think what to do with you yet, the captain says you should sleep in here…”
    The room we entered was more grand than any I’d ever slept in. The wallpaper was a beautiful pink and the bed linen was crisply white and deep red. The curtains were heavy and came
together with a satisfying swish when the cord was pulled. The bed was so high off the ground I had to clamber up onto it. Charlie handed me a key.
    “When you go to bed, lock the door so you won’t be disturbed,” he said. “No one will bother you unless you call.”
    Suddenly I felt very alone. “Where will you be?” I asked in a small voice.
    Charlie cleared his throat.
    “I’ve done a deal with Captain Garvey. He says he’s happy for you to stay here until the morning, but in return he needs me to go out with him tonight. I’m good at
cutting my way through barbed wire, see. If you were to walk a couple of miles up the road here, you’d find yourself at the beginning of our CTs – that’s ‘communications
trenches’ in army-talk. If you were to keep your head down so you didn’t get it blown off, then in another quarter-mile you’d find yourself at the front line. There are two lines
of trenches dug in facing the Hun, full of mud and water and Lord knows what, and the furthest of the two is the firing trench. Between our trenches and theirs is an area called No Man’s
Land, and in the middle of No Man’s Land is the barbed wire the Germans have laid down so we can’t get at them. Captain Garvey and me – we’re going to cut a big hole in the
wire, and then our lads can make a raid tomorrow morning to teach Jerry a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry.”
    “It sounds very dangerous,” I said.
    “Well, I suppose it is dangerous,” he answered. “But it’s not the first time I’ve been out there, and I daresay it won’t be the last. If you find yourself
with time on your hands tonight I won’t mind if you say a little prayer though. All things considered, I’d rather be home in Oxford.”
    I knew all about Oxford. Dad had talked about its beautiful buildings and wide streets. He’d always said he thought Bruges or Ghent in Belgium were the best, but Oxford wasn’t half
bad.
    “My dad’s family came from Witney,” I said.
    “Well, I’m blowed,” Charlie replied, shaking his head. “Do they now? Witney eh? I had an auntie lived there once.”
    For a moment there was a faraway look in his eyes, and for a few seconds I could tell Charlie was back home, warming himself in front of the fire in an Oxford parlour. Charlie recovered
himself.
    “Now, we’d better find you some grub before I go and put on my make-up.”
    I looked at him, puzzled.
    “We have to cover ourselves with mud so we blend into the landscape and can’t be seen. Still, they do say it’s good for the complexion. Fine ladies pay quite a lot of money for
the pleasure, so I’ve heard.”
    Down in the yard again, as the day faded into evening, Charlie found me some stew and a hunk of bread. There wasn’t a lot of meat in the stew, but there were plenty of white beans floating
around so at least it filled me up. He made me drink some more petrol-flavoured tea, and then said, “Right, you’re on your own till the morning now. There’s no