Easterleigh Hall at War by Margaret Graham

continued, ‘Now I’d pit them against any Glaswegian or Canadian company, let alone the Huns. So let’s blow the clouds away, and find that little Mr Happy I know you have hiding somewhere.’ Auberon grinned at both men and walked across to Captain Bridges who was conferring with the company sergeant major, kicking up spray and sinking into the muddy field until he reached the duckboards.
    Jack slumped back against the barn, smiling in spite of himself. By, those buggers could fight like heathens, but he and Si had known that way back when they’d fought them while sea-coaling. ‘That was a grand barney on Fordington beach that day, wouldn’t you say, bonny lad?’
    Simon knew exactly what he meant. ‘Aye, what a damned fool Parson Manton was. Our Evie says he can’t cross the road safely, so high are his thoughts, so how he fancied he’d trot along the beach, Bible in hand, and convert that drunken lot, God alone knows. The only result was always going to be a ducking. Would have done for him an’ all if you and Timmie hadn’t led the charge to send ’em packing, and then gone in after the fool.’ They were watching as the two captains stood together now, discussing something. Perhaps they were on the move again? Jack hoped not, but then touched Evie’s package in his pocket. Well, perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst news.
    Simon continued, ‘Not done a lot of that, have we, charging I mean? But we’re pretty bloody good at hunkering down in trenches and shell holes and getting better at keeping our tippy-toes dry, and trench foot away, and our heads whole. So, are you taking that package to Grace Manton, man? You can’t keep putting it off.’
    Jack stared at the Lea End men who came from beyond the Sidon pit, and even from beyond Hawton and Easton collieries, as they made fours. Their marching was neat, very neat. It had taken a few goes behind the barn with his fists to show them the error of their ways but yes, the buggers were far from the pregnant camels they had been. In fact, Auberon was right, they were the best of the bloody intake bunch. They put him in mind of the Canadians. Nobody’s yes men, but fighters to the last man. He just had to make sure his Lea End men lived long enough on the front line to be as safe as they could be. They’d make their own luck. Yes,
his
men, dammit.
    Simon was laying tobacco along his cigarette paper, which he then rolled, licked and lit, blowing the smoke up into the wind. ‘You’ve been carrying the damned package about for months. How it survived Ypres, God knows. Get a grip, man, and give me some peace from our Evie’s letters. Just let me tell her you’ve delivered it, please, or do I have to get on my knees in this mud?’
    He made a show of getting down until Jack hauled him upright. ‘Give it a rest, Si. I’m going’
    Simon shook his head. ‘Why she didn’t just send it to the woman, I don’t know. They’re friends after all and most things get to where they need to be by the postal service, for Christ’s sake. Women? I just don’t understand them.’
    â€˜You never used to swear, young Si. Your roses wouldn’t like it, so think on.’ Jack started to walk away, but stood to attention, throwing a salute as Auberon ambled over from Captain Bridges, flagging him to a stop. ‘Surprised to see you’re still here, Jack. Shouldn’t you be on your way? Please give Miss Manton my best wishes, and Ver’s, though I expect they’re in regular contact. You deserve a few hours off camp, you’ve worked damned hard.’
    Jack threw a look at Simon. ‘Thank you, sir. Corporal Preston did his little best with the men too.’
    Auberon laughed. ‘You heard that then, Corporal? Faint praise, but praise indeed.’
    Simon stood to attention. ‘I heard it all, sir. How’d you manage to get him to