The Cadet Corporal Read Free

females he had suffered so many rebuffs that it did not seem likely. Even so it was food for ‘perhaps’ thoughts.
    After the briefing the OC and CUOs walked away and CSM Cleland ordered the sergeants to ‘carry on’. As the cadets in 1 Platoon stood to move off there was a chorus of comments. These were a mixture of amazement and disgust. CSM Cleland called, “What’s going on in One Platoon?”
    â€œCarnes has pissed himself!” Cadet ‘Puddles’ Rundle cried.
    â€œYou’d know all about that,” added Cadet Grey from 1 Section. Puddles was a notorious bed-wetter.
    Graham turned and looked. The front of Carnes’ trousers was soaked. Carnes hung his head, a look of utter misery on his face. ‘Poor bugger!’ Graham thought. He knew what had happened. Like himself Carnes had gone down into the gully to have a pee but had been caught by the bullies and had not done it. Then he had been unable to hold it any longer.
    Above the babble of comments and jeering cries cut CSM Cleland’s voice. “Silence in the ranks! Sergeant Sherry, move them away without all this talking. And stop the teasing.”
    The noise dropped immediately. Graham looked at CSM Cleland with admiration. The CSM was a stocky Year 12. He looked tough and had a reputation for being hard on people who gave trouble. It took only one more warning from him to ensure complete silence except for the commands of the sergeants. Graham knew that the CSM, although lower in rank than the CUOs, was the cadet with the most responsible and powerful position in the company. The job needed a tough person and Cleland certainly looked tough as he stood there with his hands on his hips in the swirling dust.
    Having run foul of CSM Cleland several times Graham had no desire to incur his displeasure again so he screwed his head around and glared at his section to keep them silent. When it was their turn to move Graham added ‘Keep quiet!’ as they stood. Sgt Grenfell then marched them back to their platoon area. This was on the south side of the ridge beyond HQ and the officer’s area. 2 Platoon was to bivouac among a stand of tall, thin gum trees. As usual the corporals were at the front of the platoon as it marched. This put Cpl Gwen Copeland on Graham’s left and his friend Cpl Stephen Bell beyond her.
    As soon as the section was fallen out after returning to its area Graham said, “OK, carry on putting up your hutchies.” He then walked over to where he and Roger were erecting theirs. The cadets did not have tents but were issued with the camouflaged plastic sheets named ‘Shelters, Individual’. These were put up by clipping two together along one edge, then tying cord from the joins to two trees and then pegging down the four corners. The result was nicknamed a ‘hootchie’ or ‘hutchie’ by the cadets. As they set to work Kirsty smiled at Graham and cooed. “Will you help me put up my shelter Graham?” she asked.
    The use of his first name annoyed Graham and he knew he should correct her and insist on her calling him by his rank. However he decided not to. ‘I will tell her not to later so she isn’t embarrassed,’ he thought, then despised himself for being a weakling. “Who are you sharing with?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Kirsty replied.
    â€œWho would you like to share with?” Graham asked.
    â€œYou,” Kirsty answered cheekily.
    Graham could not believe his ears. He heard the others snicker and blushed. “You can’t. Unit policy is that only people of the same sex can share a hutchie. You will have to share with the other girls.”
    Kirsty made a face. “Oh poo! I don’t like girls. Besides, there are three of us.”
    That was a problem. There were eight cadets in the section, including three girls. Graham and Roger, having been mates for years had automatically paired off and so