‘You will not call an officer a liar. Not in my hearing. Take it back.’
‘But I...’
Jackson goes to stand eyeball-to-eyeball with Danny. He doesn’t shout but his voice is commanding. ‘I have said that you were treated unfairly, and I stand by that. I will make my feelings on the issue clear to the colonel. But if you disrespect the chain of command in my hearing then I will call in the guard and have you arrested. Do you understand?’
The most preening of smirks appears under Beddowes’ sketchy moustache. Silence now in the old library, a nervy stillness disturbed only by a stray breeze whistling in the chimney.
‘I... I take it back,’ Danny says at last. ‘The captain must have his reasons for not finding Ollie a doctor, but... He didn’t lie.’
Beddowes gives a dry chuckle and Jackson spins around to face him. ‘And what were your reasons, Captain?’
Beddowes’ mouth drops open. ‘I won’t answer to you.’
‘Nor do you have to,’ Jackson agrees. ‘ButIwouldn’t want my reputation stained by this poor boy’s death. Not if I had an explanation.’
‘Do you realise the extent of my duties?’ Beddowes snaps back. ‘Keeping up with the endless admin of this bloody war? So I forgot, all right? It wasn’t deliberate and perhaps I do regret it, but the welfare of some anonymous Tommy wasn’t at the top of my list that day.’
‘Although you remembered him well enough to make sure he marched,’ I say drily.
Jackson gives Danny and I a long look. ‘I’ve heard your complaint,’ he nods. ‘And I will add my own letter of condolence to the one I am sure you have already sent Private Murray’s family. It’s a tragic loss and, in my opinion, a needless one. But we now have other matters to discuss.’
He leads us over to the large table, all strewn with maps and aerial photographs. It reminds me of the material I saw on the colonel’s desk back in Étaples.
‘What matters?’ I ask.
‘Oh, nothing much,’ Beddowes replies airily. ‘Only the end of the war.’
20
‘I’m still not happy about this, Jackson,’ Beddowes mutters, his eyes on Danny. ‘Perhaps Lieutenant Wraxall can be trusted with classified information. He is, I suppose, a gentleman.’ This is said in the most sceptical of tones. ‘But to have a common soldier present at a confidential briefing? Well, I don’t like it.’
Jackson sighs. We are each standing at a corner of the big table and, to keep my temper, I’m studying the large map of Europe spread out before us. Almost the entire battlefield of the war is represented here, from our position on the Western Front in France to the German Empire and the Eastern Front where our allies Russia are waging their own campaign against the Hun. Roman numerals and Arabic numbers indicate the locations of British Army corps and divisions while there are similar markings for our French and Russian equivalents. It strikes me as both impressive and clinical to see it all laid out like this. Millions of men locked in lethal combat but not a hint of bloodshed to tarnish the page.
‘Private McCormick is Lieutenant Wraxall’s soldier-servant. The man will be his shadow from hereon,’ Jackson states. ‘Where Wraxall goes, Private McCormick goes. Even if there was the slightest possibility of him betraying our confidence, he wouldn’t have the opportunity. In any case, much of what we will discuss here is already common knowledge.’
‘What on earth do you mean by that?’ Beddowes asks sternly.
‘Only that, if he’s got eyes in his head and a brain between his ears, Private McCormick will already have worked out that something is about to happen,’ Jackson says. ‘Honestly, Beddowes, you need to get out of battalion HQ and take a turn in the trenches. It’s all the men have been talking about for weeks.’
‘Even so...’ Beddowes begins, but I cut him off.
‘The big push. How long have we got until it starts?’
‘The date is set for the twenty-ninth,’ Jackson says. ‘On that day pretty much all of us will go over the top.’
‘Only a couple of weeks away,’ I murmur.
‘And not a moment too soon,’ Beddowes puts in.
I look at Danny and my heart sinks. This map laid out before us, the horrific vastness of the meatgrinder consuming life across a continent. It is coming to devour us all and there’s nothing I can do to save him from it.
‘You’re probably aware of the massive German offensive that began in February at Verdun,’ Jackson says. ‘For over three months, the French have supported the whole weight of that attack. A few weeks ago, General Joffre, the Commander-in-Chief of the French army, met with General Haig to urge him to begin a large British assault on the German line. If this doesn’t happen in the near future, Joffre believes his army will be ruined and that the Germans will flood through at Verdun. In that case, we will very likely lose the war.’
I nod, thinking back to those devastated soldiers we met on the road. The horror and fragility of the situation had been written on every face.
‘And it isn’t only to help the French that the push is required,’ Jackson goes on. He leans over the table and points to areas in the east, now occupied by the German Empire. ‘Our Russian allies have taken some very heavy losses of late, especially after the Lake Naroch offensive in March. And so, for the sake of our friends, we must do our part to divert German resources and manpower in our direction. A major offensive all along the line of the Somme, from Beaumont Hamel in the north to our sector down here in Maricourt. South of us, the French will launch their own coordinated attack.’
My mouth feels horribly dry. ‘All right, so what’s the plan?’
