The Cadet Sergeant Major (7 page)

“Er.. er.. er.. East I think sir, over,” Dimbo replied.

“Then move south west back to camp, over.”

“Roger, over,” Dimbo answered.

Capt Conkey hooked his small radio back onto his shirt and said to Graham, “We will wait here. It's only 1100.” They dismounted. The others walked off towards their hutchies, Allison giving Graham a significant look as she went.

That got him both hopeful and anxious. ‘I hope the OC or Miss McEwen didn't see that,' he thought.

While he waited Graham sat on a log at the officer's fire. Capt Conkey and Lt McEwen both sat on folding chairs. Now, out of hearing of the other cadets, Graham felt free to discuss the NCOs and their qualities (or lack of them).

Between 1130 and 1145 the check-points began to drift in. Platoon commanders reported to Capt Conkey that they and their sections were all back. Graham noted these in his note book. As far as it was possible it was his duty to know where everyone in the company was at all times. He didn't want to be caught out should the OC ask.

At 1150 CUO Sherry and Stephen came walking in. While the CUO spoke to the OC Stephen came over to Graham.

“G'day mate. I hear you've been pissed on,” Stephen offered.

Mentally Graham winced. ‘Bad news certainly travels fast,' he thought. He forced himself to laugh and to make light of the incident. But inside his youthful military pride was hurt. He had badly wanted to get his patrol through the exercise without being seen or captured. Didn't the OC always say that the CSM should be the best soldier in the company?

“Bloody Hodgins!” Graham snorted. “How did you hear about it?”

“Charlie Cox's section came through our check-point,” Stephen replied.

‘Of course. Cpl Cox's section was in 1 Platoon,' Graham remembered. He shrugged. “Have you seen Dimbo Doyle?”

“Yeah. He blundered into us. He had already lost both of his ‘lives'; ran into Roger's section twice; the bloody nong!” Stephen replied. “He was heading the wrong way then so we pointed him for home and sent him off. That was half an hour ago.”

Graham shook his head. If Dimbo had been sent off from Check-point C half an hour earlier then he must be lost. The Check-point was nearly in sight of camp! “Better tell the OC,” he said.

Stephen did. Capt Conkey pursed his lips and frowned. “If you walked back the same way you should have seen them,” he commented. “Blast!”

They sat and waited. Just after 1200 Lt Maclaren's Land Rover turned off the Canning Road. Graham rechecked his notebook. Every section was back except Doyle's. The Land Rover pulled up and cadets began clambering out of the back- Dimbo's section.

Lt Maclaren walked over to the seated group. “I found this lot marching north along the Canning Road as I drove back,” he explained.

“North!” Capt Conkey exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. “They would have ended up back at their start point! They must have bounced around inside the exercise area like a ball in one of those pinball machines.”

“Could have been worse,” Lt Hamilton suggested. “They could have wandered out of the exercise area.”

Capt Conkey shuddered. “Don't even think it. We would be searching for days! North! What goes on inside Doyle's head I wonder?”

“Not a lot I suspect,” Lt Hamilton observed.

Capt Conkey shook his head and muttered something, then stood up. He faced the other officers. “Stop giving me your ‘We told you so' look. Everyone deserves a chance. Let's have lunch.”

During lunch Graham found himself continually looking at Allison. She frequently met his eyes. Some of the thoughts her glances engendered made the blood pound in his skull.

‘Stop looking at her, you bloody fool!' he told himself angrily. ‘Save it till after camp. It's only a week.'

He forced himself to eat quickly. ‘Latrines to organize. No time for playing silly games,' he told himself. Memories of being tempted by a female cadet in this very place the previous year when he was a corporal helped to cool him. ‘That nearly got me into real trouble,' he thought. To stiffen his resolve he hastily packed up. Then he turned to Peter.

“Pete, organize a work party to dig a latrine. I'll show you where,” he said. He strode off to get the other platoon sergeants moving. It took him nearly half an hour to show each platoon sergeant where latrines were to be dug, some for males and others for females. By then it was time for the afternoon training to begin. Work parties, each comprising a lance corporal and one cadet from each section were detailed to do the digging. That meant they would miss a couple of lessons. Graham made sure that one of the latrine diggers was Hodgins. The selection of the others was left to the respective sergeants.

There was no company parade before training resumed. The platoons moved on foot to their allotted training areas. This left Graham free to do an inspection of each platoon area to check for neatness and litter. He was generally pleased with the result. There were lolly wrappers in 1 Platoon area; and in 3 Platoon area two cadets had unrolled their bedding to lie on it during the lunch break and had left it unrolled.

That task completed Graham returned to Coy HQ. The 2ic, QM, Costigan and Bert Lacey were all busy loading empty jerry cans into a Land Rover. They were heading off for the army camp to refill them; and to arrange rations and stores. As Graham arrived they drove off. Capt Conkey stood up.

“Right CSM, let us observe the training.”

The two walked along Sandy Ridge for two hundred metres then down into the wooded hollow where 1 Platoon was training. As they walked Capt Conkey asked, “Well CSM; are there any particular problems I should be aware of?”

Graham ticked a list off in his mind. He knew the OC's policy. There were minor problems which should be dealt with by the cadets and which he should never hear about; there were problems which the OC should be aware of but which the cadets should try to solve themselves; and there were important problems which he needed to know about because the officers had to deal with them. Graham could not think of any.

“Not that I'm aware of sir; except that Sgt Griffin is a blockhead.”

Capt Conkey sighed. “Poor fellow. Yes he is having some difficulty. But at least he is trying. Besides, who else was there to promote? Swap him with Crane? Promote Cpl Bax, or Cpl Rankin?”

It was a problem Graham conceded. They joined CUO Sherry and Stephen in the shade of a large ironbark down in the small valley south east of their area. Their three sections were each training under their own trees about a hundred metres apart.

While Capt Conkey discussed the corporals and their lessons with the CUO Graham drew Stephen to one side.

“Steve, there is a litter of lolly wrappers in your area. Cpl Hopewell's section I think.”

Stephen nodded. Graham felt no difficulty. Stephen was his friend. He might resent the correction but he would also be angry with himself; and he would support him. Stephen pushed his glasses back up his nose. “That is our weakest section. And she is our weakest corporal.”

The OC and CUO Sherry were also discussing Cpl Hopewell and her section. The two friends joined the discussion.

CUO Sherry explained, “She's a lovely girl and she knows her stuff, but she is too nice. She isn't firm enough; and with little grubs like Willis and Ross that means problems.”

“And don't forget Cadet Dibble,” Stephen added.

CUO Sherry gave a theatrical sigh. “Yes! I was just telling the OC about him.” She saw Graham's quizzical glance and explained. “He wants to go home. ‘I'm not ready for this!' he blubbered to me. The bloody great sook! Yesterday afternoon that was. Day One! I put him off. He cried half the night like a bloody great baby. Then he was at me first thing this morning; and again at lunch time. He's been wanting to see the OC but so far I've stopped that.”

Graham scanned Cpl Hopewell's section. “Is he that big fellow with the tubby guts and fleshy face?”

“Yes.”

Graham shook his head. ‘He looks weak,' he thought. ‘In character that is. He should be strong enough physically.'

Stephen took up the tale. “He whimpered to me that it was the first time in his whole life that he had been away from his mother and father overnight.”

Capt Conkey shook his head. “Why the devil did he join the army cadets!” he muttered.

“Did he bring his ‘Teddy'?” Graham asked. He was not impressed.

They all laughed. CUO Sherry replied. “Fair go CSM. I miss my Teddy too!”

“Send Dibble to me next time,” Graham commented. “You might put him on your latrine digging detail next time Steve.”

“No. You wanted Hodgins especially. And I wanted the job done today,” Stephen replied. They all laughed again. Graham saw Cadet Dibble turn and look at them. The boy looked very long-faced and miserable, even from a distance.

The sections completed a lesson on ‘Field Signals', then gathered in the shade of their respective trees for a ten minute break.

“Let's go and talk to them,” Capt Conkey said. “But not Cpl Hopewell's section. I don't wish to meet Cadet Dibble just yet.”

The group walked over to Cpl Lofty Ward's section. They stood up as the OC approached.

“Stand easy,” Capt Conkey told them. “Well cadets, how are things going?”

He began to chat to the cadets. Graham looked around then spoke to Cpl Ward. “Where's LCpl Werribee Cpl Ward?”

“'Wobbles'? She's in command of the dunny digging detail. They should be back soon. In fact, here they come now,” Cpl Ward replied, pointing through the trees towards the camp.

Even at two hundred metres Graham could tell which of the four approaching cadets was ‘Wobbles' Werribee. She not only had broad hips and a slim waist but had the biggest bosom in the whole company; and when she walked she did wobble. Graham knew she was the butt of much teasing about it, in spite of the unit being frequently cautioned about sexual harassment. He knew that Wendy was very self-conscious about it. Being a teenage boy he was fascinated by her.

“Yes, I see. And please don't use that nickname for her,” he chided Cpl Ward quietly.

“What? ‘Wobbles'?” Cpl Ward replied. “She doesn't mind.”

“She doesn't mind SIR,” Graham said. “And I think you will find that she does. I have been informed she finds it highly embarrassing.”

“Yes sir,” Cpl Ward replied stiffly.

Graham did not enjoy correcting Cpl Ward. ‘Lofty will make a good sergeant next year. He should even make CUO. But he had better not play up with Wendy or his career will be short,' he considered. There were already rumours and Graham hoped Lofty would be sensible.

LCpl Werribee and her work party joined them. Graham couldn't help eyeing the front of her jacket. ‘Holy Moses, they are big! And they do wobble! I wonder.......' He stopped himself.

LCpl Werribee reported to Stephen, “Dunny's dug Sgt Bell.”

Hodgins gave a cheeky grin. “Deep enough for you to hide in CSM,” he added. This brought a laugh and made Graham blush.

When the next lesson began Capt Conkey led the way down across the gully and up onto the wide, gentle ridge which ran down to the highway. 2 Platoon was training there: revising ‘Patrol Formations'. Graham and the OC joined CUO Grenfell and Sgt Copeland.

Graham liked and admired both. Two years before, when Graham had been a First Year, Grenfell had been his section corporal; and a very good one. He had provided a role model at a critical time when Graham had needed help to steady him and give him direction. The previous year, when Graham had been a section commander, Grenfell had been his platoon sergeant. Now he was a CUO. Privately Graham considered him the best in the unit. He would have laughed at any suggestion of ‘hero-worship' in his attitude, but it was there.

Gwen Copeland had been a Lance Corporal when Graham had joined and was his section 2ic. Last year she had been a section corporal, also in 2 Platoon with Graham. Now she was CUO Grenfell's platoon sergeant. So Graham had caught up and passed her in rank but he had not detected any resentment. They liked and respected each other. ‘She's a very good sergeant and she's going to be a real lady. She's got brains, charm and good looks. She should make CUO next year,' was his summing up.

While he and Gwen were friends and he thought her very attractive Graham had the good sense not to develop a ‘crush' over her. Instinctively he sensed she was not his type,

‘But she might be!' he thought, as his gaze settled on Cpl Barbara Brassington. ‘That red hair glinting in the sunlight like polished copper! Those fiery green eyes! Those lovely long legs! And Oh! Those delectable big breasts!' He sighed unconsciously. Then his eye ran over the others in the section. What he saw caused him a wry smile.

‘There's my girl!'

Cheerful, tubby, freckle-faced little Margaret Lake. She was smiling hopefully at him, even from fifty metres away. Graham returned her smile. He couldn't help it. ‘She is a nice kid,' he mused. He knew that he was the main reason Margaret was in the cadets. Margaret was the best friend of Graham's little sister Kylie and had openly adored him for years. She was two years younger and was in Year 9.

Graham and the OC talked to CUO Grenfell and Sgt Copeland for fifteen minutes before strolling on to visit 3 Platoon. To get there they skirted the top end of the gully near the 2 Platoon bivouac area. As they walked along Graham noticed movement in the bushes a hundred metres down the gully. Voices and laughter gave a clue to what might be going on.

“Excuse me sir, I'll just make a detour down to see how work on that latrine is coming along,” Graham said.

“I'll come with you,” Capt Conkey replied.

“I would prefer that you didn't sir,” Graham replied in a formal voice. “I suspect this may be strictly CSM's business at this stage. I will meet you at 3 Platoon.”

“Oh! Oh yes. Righto CSM. Carry on,” Capt Conkey replied. He walked on.

Graham turned off along a cattle pad which led down through a belt of stunted mulga trees and prickly bushes. ‘Just as I thought; Headquarters telling jokes instead of working,' he thought. From fifty paces away he could hear LCpl Henning telling a crude joke. Graham walked into a small clearing of bare, red soil and stopped in surprise. Sitting in the shade were LCpl Henning, LCpl Parnell and LCpl Allen. Standing in the partially dug latrine was Cadet Denton. But it wasn't the fact that Denton was actually wielding a pick which made Graham gape in astonishment, although the sight of her working was unusual. It was the fact that she had, like the two boys, discarded her shirt. She only wore trousers and a bra. As she swung the pick her large and pendulous breasts bobbled and quivered, to the obvious entertainment of the others.

There was shocked silence from the group. For a moment Graham was at a loss what to say. Then anger gave him words. “Cadet Denton, put your shirt on! Lance Corporal Henning, stop that filth in the presence of ladies (‘Ladies!' he thought grimly, noting the mottle of shame mounting Leah Allen's cheeks). Get up you NCOs!”

They scrambled to their feet. Denton scuttled to her shirt and pulled it on. She began to button it up with trembling fingers. “It's alright sir,” she cried. “They can't see anymore than they do at the swimming pool.”

“That's not the point! There's a time and a place; and this is NOT the time, nor the place. It will just get the boys aroused and cause tensions and problems. So don't give them anything for their piggy little minds to work on. (Not well chosen that word ‘piggy', he thought).”

Denton pouted. “But it's too hot!” she grumbled. But she continued to do up the buttons.

“That will do! You report back to Sgt Bronsky. Now, you three lance corporals, I am depriving you of your sole subordinate. Instead you can take equal turns. You will have this latrine dug within half an hour,” Graham growled. He made a point of consulting his watch before continuing. “One of you then find me and report. The other two return to your training. Now get on with it. You first LCpl Henning!”

With that Graham turned and strode away, pushing through the bushes. He was annoyed with himself for not having checked earlier. He was also a bit put out that Peter hadn't either.

“It's not like him to let that happen,” he muttered as he took a short cut across a gully. “Three lance corporals and only one cadet in a work party. It should be the other way round.” Then it struck him. Denton was the only ‘Cadet' in HQ. Usually there were two or three in Signals and three or four in the Medics.

“The OC was right. This hasn't been a good year. We need a successful camp to improve recruiting.”

Graham caught up with Capt Conkey at 3 Platoon. He was talking to CUO Warren White and Sgt Brown. The topic of discussion was another ‘Problem child': Cadet Clayfield.

“What does he do?” Graham asked.

“What doesn't he do!” CUO White exploded. “The dirty little grub! He wet his pants on the bus during the journey here. Last night he did a big crap right beside his hutchie- just left it lying there like a bloody land mine! During the night he pissed himself. He was sleeping in his uniform; and was too lazy to even get out of his sleeping bag.”

The CUO snorted with indignation. “Then, this morning, on the Navex, he wet himself again. He said it was because there was no toilet! And he had a thousand square kilometres of bloody bush to hide in if he was shy!” Angrily he flung his arms out expressively. “Now he has just crapped in his pants during a lesson. I've sent him to change; and to wash his clothes.”