Redemption - Leon Uris [239]
Elgin and Spears were restless but dropped off to sleep, flinging themselves about and muttering. Chester said nothing. He was going through the same shit I had in the landing boat when I froze.
So, what did the day bring? I had lost much of the awe I had for men wearing admiral’s stripes and the red collar of a general. They had done some fucking stupid things today.
As for Chester Goodwood, I suppose wars had been crafted for guys like us. He had become a very big man in my eyes.
All right, Rory, you’ve now known ultimate fear. You felt it again when the Turkish patrol entered the gully, but by God, the second time you had your head on.
Elgin…what a gunner…Happy Stevens from Palmerston North…where the hell was he? That’s right, I sent him back to the beach. I hope he made it…
The Turk moaned…he refused to die. I couldn’t get rid of that wild look he wore. Who would be crying tomorrow in Constantinople? A couple of little kids?
I never thought there would come the day I would wake up with sheer elation at the sight of Major Hubble. Happy had done his job. He had reached the beach. Just before dawn, the platoon and battalion company moved into the beach end of the gully with reels of barbed wire.
I saw them in the middle of the gully! Eight dead Turks! The wounded fellow had crawled halfway up to us when he gave out.
Jeremy handed me his canteen. Nothing ever felt as good going down…nothing.
“It was a good thing you were here,” Christopher said. “This gully was wide open right down to the beach. The Turks could have come back with a battalion and attacked if you hadn’t gotten their patrol.”
“Shithouse luck,” I mumbled.
Why did I put a Very pistol into my pack? Why did I call for a machine-gun squad even though I knew it would slow me down? Why did I select this ravine? Luck? Luck? Luck? How many lucks do you get before you are Johnny Tarbox? Why Johnny? Why not me? Chester told me that every soldier who ever experienced it probably wondered why he lived and the guy next to him died.
“I understand we lost Tarbox on the landing?” the Major asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Bad luck. Good fellow,” Chris said. He scanned our area. “I see you’ve staked out the paddock. Good go. Jeremy, can you get it enclosed with wire?”
“Yes.”
“Up at the top of the gully, don’t spare the wire. Lay it down heavy. Major, I got a suspicion that there’s a zigzag route into here. We’d better get a company of infantry up there with a couple of Vicker guns.”
“I totally agree,” Chris said. “You help Jeremy here. I’ll take Goodwood back with me so he can explain this draw to General Brodhead.”
“How goes the battle?” I asked.
“We’re putting a lot of men ashore today,” Christopher said. “We’ll get everything tidied up.”
When Christopher was gone, Jeremy sat alongside me. “Monumental fuckup,” Jeremy said. “Naval gunfire, zero. Our landing, one mile north. The Anzacs are digging in for dear life a thousand to fifteen hundred yards uphill. Well, this looks like a fairly good spot.”
It was. Not only did we have our paddock but also our battalion headquarters. Later Anzac Corps headquarters dug in in our general area.
With the paddock perimeter laid out and Major Hubble having more hands than needed to dig out battalion headquarters, I went back to the beach to help evacuate the wounded.
The day was all about men pouring onto the beach from the sea, rushing up to shore up our lines while we were getting our wounded into boats…getting gear…trying to anchor down the pontoon piers, which were being blown almost as fast as we could set them up.
I glimpsed a blur of faces…Happy from somewhere… Chester…Dan Elgin, my machine-gunner last night, limped in with a leg wound…whistling artillery, explosions, and the constant cries and moans of the wounded.
I stripped to the waist as the midday heat became insufferable and found myself in charge of one of the working piers, pulling in boat after boat unloading, then loading them with wounded. I filled them up until bodies totally covered the bottom of the craft. Most of