The Death of Hope by Andrew Wareham (inspirational books for women txt) 📕

guns pumping out two shells each a minute, the maximum allowedbecause of the shortage of ammunition.

“Could use the bloody RHA now, sir.”

“Cavalry won’t release them, Hawkeswill.Say they are to remain in reserve in case of a breakthrough.”

“There will never be a breakthrough, sir.Not that can be exploited by horse.”

“I know that. You know that. Tell it tothe generals.”

“Hopeless, sir. Will we ever get generalsappointed by ability?”

Blasphemous words from an old salt likeHawkeswill, a man who had spent twenty years training his brain not to think.

“Dear me, Mr Hawkeswill! They areappointed by ability! Their ability to sit on a horse is unmatched and they canparade better than any soldiers ever known. Add to that French is a true expertat fawning to Royalty while Haig knows all about bribing politicians. What morecan we demand of our leaders?”

That was too much for Hawkeswill’s nascentindependence of thought. He made no reply.

A whistle blew further along their sectionof trench and a company opened rapid fire. Richard inched his head over the lipof the trench, together with every other unengaged officer. The shouts of ‘ready’spread all along their line. Their two Vickers began to fire, emptying fullbelts in sustained bursts. A few more seconds and every company opened fire,followed by the Lewis Guns.

Richard watched as the first wave ofattackers dropped to a man. They were shoulder to shoulder, marching fasterthan the pace the British used, going down under the sustained rifle fire. Second,third, fourth lines appeared and fell, none closer than fifty yards. A few menburrowed into the mass of corpses and began to return fire. The machine gunsraked over the pile of bodies, ferreting out the brave few. Fire petered outfor lack of a target.

“Runner! Get back to Brigade. We need twohundred thousand rounds of three-o-three within the hour. Another one half of amillion at nightfall.”

“Yes, sir. Two ‘undred thou’ jildi, ‘alf amillion tonight.”

Richard wondered in passing how the boyhad picked up the army slang, an Indian word, in three weeks away from his homeposting.

“Hawkeswill, have much have we left tohand?”

“We sent fifty thousand extra to eachcompany, sir, you will remember. They should have forty thousand of that left,sir. That was twelve minutes of rapid fire, sir. Probably one hundred and fiftyrounds a man. Never seen the match of that, sir. remarkable performance! Theirbarrels will be burning hot. Need replacement Emilys, sir. Some of the olderones will have worn past reasonable use after that.”

Richard was familiar with the nickname forthe rifle, nodded agreement.

“What have you got in store?”

That was a question never normally to beasked of an adjutant. If he was competent, he would have amassed far more thanthe legal issue of everything important. The wise colonel never asked, did notwant to know. Hawkeswill was properly evasive.

“I can find some, sir.”

“Good. Get your people to discover howmany are needed in each company. I suspect we may have to face more of theseadvances.”

“Not immediately, sir. That’s a white flagto our front.”

“Surrender?” Richard was incredulous.

“No, sir. Temporary truce to pull theirwounded in. They will ask for an hour, I expect. Demand two. It will give ustime to get ourselves together.”

“Right. How do I respond?”

“Put up our own flag, sir. Then walk outand talk to their man. Take your orderly with you. Never go unaccompanied.”

“I don’t speak German.”

“Their problem. They asked for the truce,they must find an English speaker.”

It was sometimes useful to have anexperienced man who knew the rules.

Paisley provided a towel dangling from abroken piece of timber, a split door frame from a bunker by the look of it.

Richard pulled himself over the lip of thetrench, marched slowly forward, Paisley tight to his shoulder. A German officerappeared, his orderly carrying a proper flag, dangling from a varnished pole.

“Ready for anything, it seems, Paisley.”

They stopped two yards distant from eachother.

Richard stayed silent – the Germans hadasked for the truce, it was up to them to speak first.

“Captain Mueller, 2nd BavarianJager Battalion.”

“Colonel Baker, 8th Bedfordshires.”

“There are many wounded here, fallen toyour machine guns. We did not know you had so many.”

“We do not. Trained riflemen, sir. Howlong do you require to recover your casualties?”

“There are so many… Two hours, perhaps?”

“Better you should take the rest of the day,Captain. You do not want to drag wounded men about in a hurry. Till four o’clock,Greenwich Mean Time?”

“We use Berlin time. What is your hour now?”

They compared watches, agreed on theprecise time for the suspension of hostilities.

“We are not permitted to make localtruces, Colonel.”

“Neither are we, Captain.”

They exchanged a smile.

“That is your Victoria Cross, is it not,Colonel Baker?”

“It is, Captain. Awarded last November.”

“The bridge and then the fight all the wayback to the slag heaps? I read of it in the Swiss newspapers that come toGermany. My respects, sir.”

They exchanged salutes and parted.

“Find me a runner, please, Hawkeswill. Imust inform Brigade.”

“The artillery must be told not to fire –not that that matters, sir – they would miss anyway.”

“Till four o’clock.”

“Oh, that’s useful, sir. I will run ourwounded back and have the bearers pick up stores on their return.”

They watched as the German orderliespicked over the piles of bodies, trying to be respectful yet having to haulthem out of the windrows they had fallen in, tossing the dead to one side torescue the living.

“We must have killed two thousand, sir.”

“Not so many surely, Vokes!”

“Like hay before a mower, sir. Never seenthe like of it. Take a count now, sir. From the line to the leftmost bunkeracross to the second, which is directly in front of us. That’s about a quarterof them. So many I have to check them off in tens… Forty tens, sir. Fourhundred. Their stretchers are taking off the wounded… Never seen the like, sir.Must be ten dead to one wounded. It ought to be the other way round. Never seenmen stand up in the open to be shot before. Unbelievable!”

“Sixteen hundred dead, you estimate, andabout one hundred and fifty taken off on stretchers?”

“That’s my count, sir.”

“I shall put that in the report. Two fullsize battalions destroyed in fifteen minutes of sustained fire. God help us ifwe are ever ordered