The Shadow of War, Jack Murray [story books for 5 year olds TXT] 📗

said Anderson. ‘I’ll take a look when I finishthis.’

‘Great,’said Lawrence, ‘Might have been an idea to say this before we parked the damnthing outside a pub.’

Arthurmade a point of noisily slapping the palms of his hands on his face.

-

Lateafternoon, the sky was still hidden under a black pall-like cloud. Bob Owenstood by the road leading into the barracks and watched several tanks pass himby. He looked at them with a sense of marvel and fear. Every night he had thesame dream: his bullet-riddled body fallingunderneath the wheels of the tank. The crack of his bones would wake him up gaspingfor breath.

Nightmaresaren’t just for the night. Each passing day increased his sense of dread. Soonhe would be inside one of these beasts. Facing him would be an enemy inside abetter-made tank, intent on killing him. It was madness. How could any saneperson step inside one of those death machines and drive happily towardscertain death. He felt the tears sting his eyes as he looked at each tank.Quickly he wiped his eyes free of the incriminating evidence of his cowardice.He thought of Danny. Over the last few weeks he found his envy of Danny turningmore bitter.

Thereseemed to be no fear in his friend. Danny’s nature, his character had adaptedto, rather than been changed by, the training. Gone was the boy he hadtravelled down with. He seemed not so much a man, now, as manly. His naturalgregariousness and good humour remained, but it was enhanced with a quietassurance about what he was there to do and a confidence that he could do it.There was a certainty about his role in a tank, a wider understanding oftactics and a courage that remained beyond Bob’s grasp.

Today,like every day since his arrival at the army training camp, Bob lived in dreadthat his fear would be perceived by his comrades. He would be seen for what hewas: a coward. Unmanly. He had not yet managed to develop an independent lifeoutside himself and assimilate his identity within the group. He was anoutsider and it was becoming more apparent by the day.

Howcould he face the enemy? How could he face the aggressive artillery fire, thedeadly crack of bullets, the crushing terror of tanks when he could barelybring himself to be incarcerated in one during training? Rain began to fallgently creating rivulets running down his face. He stood looking out at thefield with the tanks and the trucks arriving with soldiers from other camps.All around him men sprinted for cover from the rain.

-

‘Mybet is we’ll be out there by summer,’ said Arthur. His eyes were on Anderson,outside in the rain, looking at the engine of the A13.

‘Outwhere?’ asked Danny, smiling.

‘Don’tstart that again,’ replied Lawrence. ‘I hope Will’s allright.’

‘Yeah, it’s a bit wet out there,’ noted Donnelly. Unlike theothers, he was genuinely concerned for his friend’s welfare.

‘Who cares if he gets wet. It’s the damn tank I want sorted,’laughed Lawrence. A minute later he saw Anderson give the thumbs up.

Lawrence nodded and looked at the rest of the boys, ‘That’s us.Come on we better move it.’

Thejourney back took place without incident. As they arrived, they saw severalthree tonners arriving with soldiers. Lawrence called down to Danny and Andersonbelow, ‘Somethings up. We’ve got company.’

‘Howdo you mean?’ asked Danny.

‘Looks like the whole battalion is here.’

‘Interesting,’ responded Danny.

The tank pulled into the allotted space and the crew hopped out.The drizzle was making up its mind and becoming something heavier and even moreunpleasant. Danny spotted Bob standing under a tree smoking a cigarette. Hejogged over to his friend.

‘Guarding the tanks?’

‘Somethinglike that,’ replied Bob in a neutral almost unrecognisable voice. They lookedat one another. Bob was performing a role in front of his friend now. All theworld is a stage, and Bob was acting a part. He wasn’t a person any longer buta perspective. He hoped that the mask he showed would soon become his reality.He suspected it wouldn’t. Danny would be the first to see this; perhaps he hadalready.

‘Whatwere you up to today?’ asked Danny.

‘Samething you did yesterday. At the garage learning about ignition systems,crankshafts and clutch plates.’

‘Excitingwasn’t it? You must be an expert now,’ said Danny with a grin.

‘Allover it,’ lied Bob.

Dannylooked at the soldiers streaming between the trucks and the barracks. Somethingwas definitely in the offing.

‘Doyou know what’s happening?’

Boblooked at Danny with a raised eyebrow; a sardonic smile spread over his face.

‘Timeto become heroes.’

 2

CommandingOfficer Lieutenant-Colonel Dinham Drew looked out at his men as they stood inranks in the parade ground. The rain beat softly down on his black beret. Hepreferred to wear this when addressing the men even if it offered preciouslittle protection against the British weather.

Drewwas in his -forties but would easily have passed for much older. His age stoodin contrast to the youth of the men he commanded. He seemed like afather-figure to the regiment: a father-figure in the Victorian mould.Discipline was his guiding principle. Flouting army regulations, poor turn outon the parade ground, half-hearted drilling were routinely punished. This wasnot just a moral crusade; Drew believed discipline a bulwark against fear,against incompetence and most importantly, weakness. It would save the lives ofhis men. Nothing mattered more to him than victory but at the least human cost.

Fornearly a minute Drew said nothing. Danny was at the front and tried to read hisface. He felt a shiver travel along his arm and down his back that had nothingto do with the rain. All around him stood the men of the RTR. To a man theywere holding their breath. The parade ground was eerily silent. Finally, Drewspoke in a voice that came not just from another caste but from anothercentury.

‘Arewe all here?’ he asked a staff officer at his side. The officer nodded.

‘Atease, men. I called this meeting because I’ve got some news for you. I shan’tbeat about the bush. You may be hearing rumours that we are going abroad. This shouldn’t be a surprise. We need you where itmatters. For security reasons I can’t say where, so don’t ask. Put it this way,you won’t be in England this Christmas. It’s time