Doctor Who_ War Games - Malcolm Hulke [2]
‘Thank you,’ said the Doctor.
‘They’re all talking about you lot in the dug-out,’ said the sergeant. ‘You’ll see, in no time you’ll all be interned somewhere safe.’ He grinned and went back to making tea for himself and other soldiers.
The trio were squatting on slatted planks in the bottom of a deep trench. The walls of the trench were higher than a man, and the trench ran as far as the eye could see.
Jamie sipped his tea. ‘Is this how they fought your First World War? Sitting in trenches?’
‘The trench,’ said the Doctor, ‘was peculiar to that war.
Before 1914 people charged about on horses, and armies took up positions and had set battles. This war was different. You see, they had invented the machine-gun but they hadn’t developed the tank, not until towards the end.’
‘I don’t understand,’ moaned Zoe. ‘My clothes are filthy, I’m wet, it’s uncomfortable, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Then I shall explain. Armies used to advance on each other. But once you have the machine-gun you can stop soldiers coming at you. You simply mow them down. The only way to advance on a machine-gun is with a tank. But they haven’t got tanks yet. So both sides dug trenches. The trench we’re in probably goes on for hundreds of kilometres, right across Europe.’
‘That’s a daft way to run a war,’ said Jamie.
‘It’s more than daft,’ the Doctor retorted. ‘It was terrible. Every now and then one side or the other goes over the top. They climb out, hundreds of them, and go charging through No Man’s Land towards the enemy’s trenches. They know that the first wave will be wiped out by enemy machine-guns. The second wave, following immediately behind, will lose fifty per cent. With luck, some of the third wave will reach the enemy trenches while the machine-gunners are re-loading. Once there, they kill every enemy soldier in sight and try to take the trench. An advance like that may push the front line forward by one kilometre at the cost of ten thousand soldiers’ lives.’
Jamie and Zoe said nothing for a few moments. Then Jamie said, ‘I asked you what that awful smell is, Doctor?
You never answered.’
‘That smell,’ said the Doctor, ‘is death. It’s all around us. I told you, this is one of the most terrible times in history.’ He put down his mug, the tea untouched.
‘Anyway, I think the time has come for us to move on. If we leave here now we may be able to get back to the TARDIS before nightfall. You two stay where you are while I spy out the land.’
The Doctor rose and went to a crudely made ladder that stood propped against the side of the trench. Checking that the sergeant and his friends were busy making tea, he began to climb. As soon as he reached the top and put his head up over the edge of the trench, there was a burst of machine-gun fire. He ducked down.
‘Hey, what d’you think you’re doing?’ The sergeant ran along the trench to the Doctor, grabbing his long black coat to pull him down.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ said the Doctor. ‘We want to return to our transport now.’
‘Really? And where’s that?’
‘Roughly,’ said the Doctor, ‘in the direction I was trying to go.’
‘There’s nothing in that direction except the Huns.’ The sergeant stood between the Doctor and the ladder, barring further attempts to get away. ‘Why should you want to get to the Germans?’ All his previous friendliness had vanished.
Some of the soldiers had come forward to listen. ‘Maybe he’s a spy,’ said one of them. ‘All three of them are civilian spies. They should be shot.’
‘I can assure you,’ the Doctor insisted, ‘we are not spies.
We are travellers who just happened to arrive here.’
‘They look like spies,’ said a soldier. ‘I’ve shot two spies before now, shot them in cold blood.’
‘I think he’s a rotten deserter,’ said another soldier, pointing at Jamie. ‘Look at his kilt. He’s a deserter from a Highland regiment. All deserters should be shot.’
‘This’ll