Band of Brothers Read Free

lieutenant considered it.
    ‘They’re not dragging their feet, I’ll say that for them.’ He relented a little. ‘You will be the last today.’ He swung round to beckon to another seaman, and Dancer said quietly, ‘I hope we can get something to eat while we’re waiting!’
    Bolitho smiled, and felt sheer hilarity bubbling up. Like a dam breaking. Dancer could do always do it, no matter how tense the situation.
    They followed the messenger, the ship reaching around and above them. A teeming world of packed humanity separated only by the invisible boundaries of status or rank. As a mere boy, it had been like being carried on a tide, with all the bumps and bruises, spiritual as well as physical, you might expect along the way. And the characters, the good and the bad, those you trusted on sight, and others on whom you would never turn your back without risk.
    And always busy, ceremonial one moment, court martial the next. He felt the smile on his lips again. And always hungry.
    The captain’s clerk was a pale, solemn individual, who would have passed as a clergyman ashore or in more suitable surroundings. His cabin was close to the marines’ messdeck and stores, the ‘barracks’ as they termed it, and above the other shipboard sounds they could hear the clatter of weapons and military equipment and the thump of heavy boots.
    The captain’s clerk, Colchester, seemed oblivious to everything but his own work, and the position which set him apart from the crowded world around him.
    He waited for the two midshipmen to seat themselves on a bench half-covered by documents neatly tied with blue ribbon. It looked chaotic, but Bolitho had the feeling that Colchester would know immediately if a single item was misplaced.
    He regarded them with an expression that might have been patience or boredom.
    ‘The Board today consists of three captains, unlike the more usual practice of one captain and two junior officers.’ He cleared his throat, the sound like a gunshot in the paper-filled cabin.
    Three captains. Dancer had told him what to expect, to warn him, this very morning, while they had been trying to dress and prepare themselves mentally in the noise and upheaval of the midshipmen’s berth. It had seemed worse than usual, and the mess space was further reduced by stores and bedding from the sick quarters nearby.
    How had Dancer known about the Board’s members?
    He did not seem troubled by it, but that was Dancer. His way, his shield. No wonder he had won a kind of respect even from some of the hard men in Gorgon ‘s company.
    And from Bolitho’s sister Nancy, in the short time Dancer had stayed at the house in Falmouth. She was only sixteen, and it was hard for Bolitho to accept her as a woman. She was more used to the youngsters around Falmouth, farmers’ sons, and the callow young men who made up the bulk of the officers at the garrisons in Pendennis and Truro. But it had not been merely his imagination. She and Dancer had seemed to belong together.
    Three captains . There was no point in wondering why. A sudden sense of urgency? Unlikely. There were far too many officers in a state of stalemate, with no prospect of promotion. Only war increased demand, and cleared the way on the Navy List.
    Or perhaps it was the admiral’s idea… .
    He looked over at Dancer, who appeared serenely oblivious.
    Colchester said, ‘You will wait here until you are called.’ He got slowly to his feet, his lank hair brushing the deckhead beams. ‘Be patient, gentlemen. Always fire on the uproll… .’
    Dancer watched him leave, and said, ‘If I get through today, Dick, I shall always owe it to you!’
    Not so confident, then. Bolitho looked away, the words lingering in his mind. He had thought it was the other way around.

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    2

    Not A Contest
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    Waiting was the worst part, more than either of them would admit. And here they were shut off from life, while the great ship throbbed and murmured above and around them. The