Beddowes takes up the thread, his voice brimming with a kind of grim excitement. ‘It will begin with several days’ bombardment of the enemy position. All our heavy artillery firing non-stop around the clock. We will rain down such hellfire on the Hun, that it will not only destroy their barbed wire entanglements but obliterate all their defences.’ He jabs a thin finger against the German line, drawing it the entire length of their trench system. ‘Hardly anything will be left. And those few Hun that do survive will have had every scrap of courage drained out of them.’
‘Will they, sir?’ Danny asks doubtfully.
Beddowes gives him a withering look. ‘You haven’t even stepped into a trench yet, boy, what do you know?’
‘I know about guns,’ he says. ‘I’ve worked with them half my life. I know how unreliable they can be and how foolish it is to predict what kind of impact they might have.’
The officer titters. ‘I should explain to you, Captain Jackson, our friend here works on a fairground shooting range. My dear boy, I think the kind of artillerywe’retalking about is a little different to the peashooters you’re used to. Mark my words, after the bombardment our men will be able to climb out of their trenches and wander unchallenged across No Man’s Land.’
‘I think Private McCormick has a point,’ I say. ‘How can you guarantee that our big guns will take out all their defences? Those barbed wire entanglements aren’t easy to pinpoint. And it was the Germans who first established the Front line in nineteen-fourteen. They chose the most strategically advantageous ground and have bedded in pretty solidly ever since. We have no real idea how deep their trenches go. We could bombard them for weeks and still only be hitting a few surface dugouts while they remain safe, hidden far below the ground. And then there’s what happens after the guns fall silent.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jackson asks.
‘Only this, sir: ever since conscription came into effect in January, we’ve got more and more men flooding in to replace those we’ve lost. But in my opinion, there aren’t enough quality instructors nor the time to undertake proper training. A number of the soldiers I brought down here don’t have the fire and manoeuvre skills to execute a big offensive like this. You throw them straight into No Man’s Land, and they’ll be sitting ducks.’
Beddowes suddenly snaps: ‘We’re not here to get your amateur opinion on a plan your superiors have devised. The quality of training is irrelevant. As I said, once the bombardment is over, your men will be able to stroll to victory. I have no doubt in my mind that, with this plan, nineteen-sixteen will be the last year of the war.’
‘I hope you’re right, Captain,’ I sigh. ‘I truly do.’
Beddowes smooths down the wisp of hair on his upper lip. ‘You know, Captain Jackson, this is all sounding rather like conchie talk. If I didn’t know better, I might think that Lieutenant Wraxall had a streak of yellow running through him and that he was afraid to face the enemy.’
I see Danny grip the edge of the table, his knuckles standing out sharp and bloodless. ‘A coward?’ he growls. ‘Then how was he awarded the MC? As far as I know they’re only given out for acts of exceptional bravery in combat. Not that...’ A warning look from Jackson and he manages to stop himself. ‘If you’re not interested in Lieutenant Wraxall’s opinion, sir, then why are we here?’
Jackson nods. ‘Yes, let’s get on with it, Beddowes.’
The captain flares his nostrils, as if he has just caught the scent of a trench latrine. ‘You may recall back in Le Touquet the colonel asking if you still dabbled in sketches? He remembered your former CO, Captain Danvers, speaking highly of the accuracy of your drawings and saying that you had a sharp eye for detail. For this operation to be a success, we need all the intelligence we can gather. Therefore it is proposed that you should undertake a special mission. When you return to your sector, you willnotresume your normal duties as platoon leader, but will instead perform reconnaissance along as much of the line as you see fit. Your job is to observe, note and sketch any significant enemy activity. We believe that the Hun may have guessed what’s coming their way.’
Danny gives a sardonic smile. ‘All the guns and men we’ve had rolling in, you mean? Yeah, I’d say they’ve probably guessed.’
‘Watch your tone, Private,’ Jackson says. ‘I won’t tell you again.’
‘As I was saying,’ Beddowes continues acidly, ‘if they do have an idea that an offensive is imminent, they will be making their own defensive preparations, and while we remain confident that our bombardment will make any such efforts futile,’ he glances pointedly at Danny as he says this, ‘we wish to ensure that our intelligence is up to date. And so you will gather all information concerning their movements: the arrival of ration parties, times that sentries are relieved, fresh trench workings, machine gun positions, regularity of patrols, as well as making accurate maps of their current trench system.’
‘Won’t aerial photos cover much of that?’ I ask.
‘Aerial photography is all well and good,’ Beddowes says. ‘But pictures taken from a plane moving at speed? Even under the best conditions, the images are often blurred and unreliable. So you will take to the hills and the higher ground behind the line and make your maps from that vantage.’
‘Get familiar with the details of No Man’s Land too,’ Jackson says. ‘Their barbed wire entanglements, shell crater locations, any hazard we might face when we go over the top. This is vital work, Wraxall, and so you will be excused all other duties. I will also provide you with a chit so you can pass unchallenged through any other regiment’s sector. What do you say?’
I consider for a moment, my gaze sweeping along the snaking line of the Front. ‘I’ll need help. Someone to run errands for me, send reports back to you here at HQ, check the accuracy of my observations.’
Jackson comes around the table, slapping Danny on the back. ‘Well, this is your soldier-servant, isn’t it? Anyway, from what I’ve seen of him, I think it’s probably wise he stays at your side. What do you say, Beddowes?’
‘Oh, I’m sure keeping Private McCormick close would be Wraxall’s preference too,’ the captain says.
If Jackson picks up anything in his tone, he doesn’t react. ‘Then it’s settled. I’ll meet you in Albert tomorrow afternoon, sixteen hundred hours, and we’ll march your platoon to forward trench. You can remain there until the following day so that Private McCormick can find his feet, then begin your mission that morning. In your absence your command can be divided between myself and my sergeant. And so, unless there is any other business to discuss?’
With that, the meeting breaks up. Jackson starts folding up the huge map while Danny and I head for the door. I have my hand on the handle when I hear Beddowes’ dry cough at my shoulder.
‘A private word, Wraxall.’
I sigh and ask Danny to leave us. He does so reluctantly, casting Beddowes a suspicious glance. The door snaps behind him and an oily voice whispers in my ear.
‘Of course you will both be expected to be back in your trench on the morning of the twenty-ninth. Ready to join the push.’
I nod. ‘We will certainly be there. And where will you be, Captain?’
I sense the man bristle. ‘One word of advice before you go. Just be careful out there, Lieutenant. As you know, HQ has its spies in the trenches and any rumour will eventually reach my ears.’ His eyes flick to the closed door. ‘Remember, I am always watching and listening.’
