The Cadet Sergeant Major by Christopher Cummings Page A

quickly, heating more water as he did. This was for shaving. He was proud of needing to shave. It made him feel very manly. He shaved by feel, using warm soapy water from the mess tin as lather. The fingers of his left hand felt for the stubble and his other hand wielded the razor.
    As he shaved Graham felt someone’s eyes on him. He looked up and his gaze met Allison’s. She smiled. He smiled back and felt his heart bound. ‘Bright Eyes likes me!’ he thought happily. Boosted by that he went on shaving, conscious of her gaze but pretending not to be. He washed the soap off, dried his face on a hand towel, washed and dried his mess gear, then packed everything away in his webbing.
    That done Graham sat on the pack and extracted boot polish and brushes. He set to work on his dusty, grass-scuffed boots. Peter was busy packing up beside him. Graham said, “You didn’t sleep very well last night Pete.”
    Peter grunted; then said, “No, I didn’t dig a hip-hole. I was uncomfortable.”
    â€œMake sure HQ has its waterbottles filled before parade. They are going straight on to this ‘Escape and Evasion’ exercise after it.”
    â€œI will.”
    Graham stowed his pack, filled his own waterbottles from a nearby jerry can, brushed his teeth, cleaned his fingernails and ran a comb through his hair. He noted a couple of empty tins left over from breakfast still not in the rubbish bag and drew Peter’s attention to them. Outside the next hutchie Allison sat while Kate braided her hair. Allison looked up and smiled. He smiled back; then turned away, annoyed with himself.
    â€˜Weakling! Don’t fall for every pretty face you see!’ he told himself. Again he checked the time: 0725. He marched off to inspect the area. The track Graham took led towards an old gravel pit near the highway. It went between the 2 Pl area and 3 Pl. As he passed he observed Roger trying to line his section up for inspection.
    â€˜Poor old Roger!’ he thought. ‘How did he end up with that bunch of lazy little grubs: Anderson, Arthur, Walsh, Skolaz and Lazarus!’ He shook his head and walked on. Roger could cope.
    On both sides of the vehicle track were a series of small gullies. Graham tramped up and down these for twenty minutes selecting sites for latrines. All the time he kept his eye on the time. At 0740 he headed back to camp.
    The particular gully he followed led up to where 4 Pl were bivouacked. The first thing he noticed was Cpl Scott, a thin, pasty -faced Year 11, losing his temper and angrily berating Cadet Bragg. Bragg was a tall, gangling simpleton whose chief asset was his sister. He had been in Graham’s section the previous year but had not been promoted. ‘Bragg is enough to try anyone’s patience,’ he thought. ‘But Scott needs to learn to control himself. Abuse won’t win any leadership struggle.’ He detoured and called Cpl Scott over. After a few quite words of advice he went on his way.
    Graham marched over to where the platoon commander, CUO Coralie Bates, a tall brunette with freckles, was inspecting Cpl Doyle’s section. She was quietly grilling two sulky looking girls that had already acquired the nickname throughout the unit of ‘The Two Tarts’. Sgt Griffin stood behind the platoon commander, notebook and pencil ready. Graham halted and waited. Inwardly he groaned. ‘What on earth possessed these two girls to join the cadets?’ he wondered. They obviously hated taking orders and weren’t interested in soldiering. ‘Are they really tarts? Did they join up to be with the boys?’ he speculated. ‘I hope not. We don’t want any trouble,’ he thought. He resolved to keep an eagle-eye on the pair.
    As soon as the CUO stopped speaking Graham stepped forward. “Excuse me Ma’am,” he said.
    â€œYes CSM?”
    â€œPardon me but could you please hurry your inspection along? The OC