Darkest Hour

'Stupid sodding bastard,' cursed McAllister. 'Watch where you're bloody going!'

Sykes wandered over to stand in front of Tanner and Peploe. 'Any news, sir?'

Peploe shook his head. 'I'm sure we'll be here for the night, though - or close by, at any rate.'

'Good,' said Sykes, 'because my men are fed up. They're all moaning like mad. "Corp, me feet ache. Corp, I've got another blister." I've 'ad enough.' He grinned, then took out a comb from his top pocket and smoothed his hair. 'The village looks pretty empty.'

'They've all scarpered,' said Tanner. 'Should have stayed put. These refugees are a bloody nuisance.'

'It's a terrible sight,' said Peploe. 'What an awful thing to have to do - leave one's home. I mean, where are they heading anyway?'

'Can't help thinking they'd be better off at 'ome,' said Sykes. 'Didn't really see any in Norway, did we, Sarge?'

'No - they must have been made of sterner stuff.'

Suddenly a plaintive bellowing struck up somewhere close behind them.

'Christ! What the 'ell's that?' said Sykes.

Tanner got to his feet. 'Cows, Stan. There's a field of them here.'

'They need milking,' said Peploe, scrambling upright. 'Their udders are full and they're in pain.'

'I can see a dozen, sir,' said Tanner.

Peploe looked up and down the road. With no sign of any imminent movement, he said to Tanner, 'See if anyone knows how to milk a cow.'

'Bell was brought up on a farm, sir,' said Tanner, 'and I know what to do.'

'Good. Ask the others too.'

The only other man raised on a farm was Corporal Cooper of 2 Section, so the four men climbed over a gate a short way up the road and began to milk the cows, which had redoubled their agonized mooing.

Sykes had followed and stood beside 'Tanner as he knelt on the ground, stroked the side of a black and white Friesian and began to pull at the teats. 'We'd be better off putting bullets to their heads,' the sergeant muttered. 'We might be helping the pain now, but what about tomorrow morning - or evening?'

Sykes watched the milk squirting into the grass. 'Bit of a waste too.' He looked up. 'There's the farm over there.'

'Go and have a snoop. See if anyone's about.'

Tanner had moved on to another beast by the time Sykes returned.

'It's deserted,' said Sykes. 'There's chickens and geese wandering about. Cats too, and a couple of dogs tied up on chains. They all look very sorry for themselves.'

'For God's sake,' muttered Tanner. When he had finished milking the second cow he went to the lieutenant.

'That place is empty, sir,' he said, jerking a thumb towards the farm, 'and there's two dogs chained up. Shall I set them free or shoot them?'

'Set them free. They'll probably eat the chickens but at least it'll give them a chance.'

Tanner and Sykes did so, then rejoined the others. The milking completed, they walked back to the road, where the remainder of the platoon was still resting.

'I found that more depressing than anything I've seen all day,' said Peploe. 'I know civilians are innocent but we humans are to blame for all this. The animals have no say at all, and to leave them like that, well, it's cruel.'

Just then two shots rang out, the second followed instantly by the yelp of a dog. A few moments later CSM Blackstone was walking purposefully down the road towards them. 'We're moving into the village, sir,' he said, as he approached Peploe. 'T Company are to billet in this farm here. Officers and senior NCOs in the house, junior NCOs and ORs in the outbuildings.'

'What was that shooting, CSM?' Peploe asked.

'Two stray dogs, sir.'

'On whose orders?'

'Colonel Corner's, sir, which presumably came down from Brigade. All dogs to be shot. Can't have them running astray and going feral on us.' He glanced down the road, then turned back to Peploe. 'There's an officers' meeting in fifteen minutes, sir, with the divisional OC. Battalion HQ is in the large house next to the church.'

There was a weary cheer from the men at the news they would be marching no further that night. Slowly they got to their feet, slung rifles over shoulders and hitched packs and haversacks back onto their webbing. Peploe headed off to Battalion Headquarters, leaving Tanner in charge of the platoon. When he saw 12 Platoon, ahead, set off through the village to the farm, Tanner led his men through the field and into the yard. As he had hoped, they were the first platoon in the company to reach their billet.

He scouted the buildings and chose a large, high- pitched barn for his men. Just outside in the yard there was a well, while inside, at one end there were old carts and farm equipment, and along one wall a series of wooden stalls. Above, he found a hay loft, in which there was still plenty of last year's hay and straw. He put his kit in one of the stalls, called the men in and ordered them to bring down some straw to sleep on.

He had just got his own makeshift bedding ready when there were shouts from across the yard. Hurrying out, he saw a number of men running to a small storehouse. Shouts and cheers floated out to him. Tanner strode over. The men had broken open a large vat of cider they had discovered in an outhouse off the yard. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?' he shouted. 'Get out now, all of you.'

'But, Sarge,' said one of the men, 'the CSM said we could take anything we found outside the house.'

'Come on, Sarge,' said another. 'You can't begrudge us a little drink.'

'I can and I do,' said Tanner. 'First, this is theft. Second, we might be fighting tomorrow and, believe me, you don't want a hangover then. All of you, get out. Now!'

Grumbling, and with angry glances of resentment, the men shuffled out. Tanner waited for the last to go, then went inside and did his best to put the room back in order.

A few minutes later, a shadow fell across the threshold. 'How dare you undermine my authority like that?' said Blackstone.

'That wasn't my intention,' said Tanner, facing him squarely. 'I didn't believe you'd have let the men drink freely when we're so close to the front, so I stopped them until I'd had a chance to speak to you and confirm that you'd given them permission.'

Blackstone smiled mirthlessly. 'Are you suggesting I don't know my own men?'

'I'm not suggesting anything, CSM. I'm saying that to let exhausted men drink the local Belgian hooch and get themselves puggled when we could be called on to fight the enemy at any moment is hardly sensible.'

Blackstone took a step towards Tanner, and pushed him in the chest. Tanner stiffened with anger. 'Always the bloody same with you, isn't it, Jack?' said Blackstone. 'Pushing your nose in where it's not wanted, thinking you know it all. The lads deserve a bit of grog. It won't harm them and I don't need you putting your sodding little paw in and telling me how to run the company.'

'I don't have to listen to this,' said Tanner, moving towards the door. But Blackstone blocked him.

'Oh no you don't, Jack. I haven't said you can leave.'

'For God's sake, you can't tell me you're thinking of the men. You're just currying favour - showing them what a good bloke you are. If you really worried about them, you'd make sure they got their heads down and were bright and fresh for tomorrow.'

At this, Blackstone grinned. 'Oh dear, Jack, you really don't get it, do you?' He leaned closer and hissed, 'I told you, I'm the one in charge around here and I mean it.'

'I ought to knock you down right now,' snarled Tanner.

'Go ahead and try, Jack.' He stepped aside and Tanner, his face taut with rage, pushed past him.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! He needed to calm down, he knew, because right now anger could get the better of him. He went across the yard, making for the field, hoping to find somewhere quiet to regain his composure.