The Hour of The Donkey Read Free Page A

alleged to be our IO, Dickie—so where the devil were the Germans supposed to be as of last night?’
    Lieutenant Davidson squirmed uncomfortably. ‘Well, sir … things have been a bit knotted-up at Brigade—or they were yesterday.’
    ‘What d’you mean “knotted-up” boy?’
    ‘Well … actually … things seem to be a bit confused, don’t you know … rather.’ Lieutenant Davidson manoeuvred the crumbs on his plate into a neat pile.
    ‘No, Dickie,’ said Major Audley.
    ‘No, sir—Nigel?’ Lieutenant Davidson blinked.
    ‘No, Dickie. No—I don’t know. And no, I’m not confused. To be confused one must know something. But as I know nothing I am not confused, I am merely unenlightened. So enlighten me, Dickie—enlighten us all.’
    ‘Or at least—confuse us,’ murmured Willis. ‘What does Brigade say?’
    ‘Well, actually …’ Lieutenant Davidson began to rearrange the crumbs, ‘ … actually, Brigade says we don’t belong to them at all. So they haven’t really said anything, actually.’
    ‘What d’you mean, “don’t belong to them”?’ asked Major Audley.
    ‘They say we should be at Colembert, sir—Nigel.’
    ‘But we are at Colembert, dear boy.’
    ‘No, sir … That is to say, yes—but actually no, you see.’ Lieutenant Davidson tried to attract Major Tetley-Robinson’s attention.
    ‘Ah! Now we’re getting somewhere,’ Major Audley nodded encouragingly. ‘Now I am beginning to become confused at least. We are at Colembert—but we’re not. Please confuse me further, Dickie.’
    Lieutenant Davidson abandoned the crumbs. ‘This is Colembert-les-Deux-Ponts, sir. But apparently there’s another Colembert, with no ponts, up towards St Omer. It seems the MCO at Boulogne attached us to the wrong convoy, or something—that’s what Brigade says—‘
    ‘Good God!’ exclaimed Major Audley. ‘But St Omer’s miles from here—it’s near Boulogne.’
    ‘Yes …’ nodded Willis. ‘And that would account for Jackie Johnson and the whole of “A” Company being absent without leave, of course. Only poor old Jackie didn’t lose us after all—he just went off to the right Colembert… and we lost him , eh?’
    But Major Audley had his eye fixed on Major Tetley-Robinson now. ‘So what the hell are we doing about it, Charlie?’
    Major Tetley-Robinson almost looked uncomfortable. ‘The matter is in hand, Nigel. That’s all I can tell you.’
    Willis smiled. ‘”Theirs not to reason why—theirs but to do and die”, Nigel. Same thing happened to the jolly old Light Brigade.’
    ‘Same thing happens in hospital,’ observed Captain Saunders wisely, nodding to the whole table.
    ‘What same thing, Doc?’ enquired Willis.
    ‘Wrong patient gets sent to surgery to have his leg cut off. Always causes a devil of a row afterwards. Somebody gets the push, somebody else gets promoted. Hard luck on the patient. And hard luck on us if the Huns are in Peronne, I suppose.’
    Major Audley considered Captain Saunders for a moment, and then turned back to Lieutenant Davidson. ‘Are the Germans in Peronne, Dickie? What does Brigade say?’
    Lieutenant Davidson looked directly at Major Tetley-Robinson. ‘Sir … ?’ he appealed.
    ‘Harrumph!’ Major Tetley-Robinson brushed his moustache with the back of his hand. ‘That would be telling!’
    ‘It would indeed, Charlie,’ said Major Audley cuttingly.
    ‘They must be in touch with the French,’ said Captain Willis. ‘The French are supposed to be north-west of us here, and Peronne is …’ he frowned,’ … is bloody south-west , if my memory serves me correctly—bloody south-west!’
    Willis’s memory did serve him correctly, thought Bastable uneasily. In fact, Peronne was so far south as to be impossible; there just had to be two Peronnes, in the same way as there had been two Colemberts.
    ‘What does Brigade say, Dickie?’ Willis pressed the intelligence Officer.
    ‘Well, … actually, we’ve lost touch