The Wood Beyond

xi

For a while on the journey back from Kirkton, Peter Pascoe got ahead of the rain. But always its dirty grey clouds came bubbling up in his rear-view mirror and suddenly they were above and beyond him, spilling huge greasy drops to burst like insects on his screen. The dual carriageway he was on was crowded and soon driving began to feel like crawling along the bed of a filthy canal littered with the rubbish of an over-consumering society.

At the first opportunity he turned onto a country road, often his preferred route in good weather because of the pleasant rolling countryside it wound its way through. But today there was little hope of enjoying the view. Indeed, as if provoked by his attempt at escape, the clouds now darkened to black and exploded in such fury over his head that he could hardly see the road let alone the landscape. He dropped his speed to twenty but even then almost overshot a sharp bend and, deciding enough was enough, he pulled off the road onto a cart track and came to a halt in the shelter of a small clump of trees.

He turned on his radio but the rain was making it crackle and fizz so unpleasantly that he soon turned it off. He was, he realized, curiously disturbed by his encounter with the ghastly Quiggins women. Not just by the abuse the old one had showered on his family but also by the sense they'd given him of how claustrophobic life in a village like Kirkton must have been only a couple of generations ago. Perhaps still was! And this was his heritage, this was where he came from.

He almost wished that when he'd discovered that the Wyfies' barracks had been knocked down he had simply scattered the ashes on the site and carried on home. What did it matter where your remains came to rest? If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a short-stay park that is forever Ada!

He managed a smile at the parody but it didn't change things. He'd gone into the museum, met the major, and now he was stuck with knowledge he couldn't ignore.

The rain showed no sign of letting up. Pity he hadn't bought a newspaper. But there was reading matter in his glove compartment, and not inappropriate. It was the volume on the First World War which Major Studholme had loaned him. He opened it and turned to the chapter on Passchendaele.

It was a brisk, scholarly account, concentrating on giving detail rather than drawing conclusions. Not that this was a felt deficiency as the simple facts spoke eloquently for themselves.

After the opening assaults on the last day of July, the opposing armies settled in their new lines, which weren't all that much different from the old, and shelled and bombed and skirmished with each other while the intermittent sun dried the surface of the bogland sufficiently for the Allied High Command to contemplate the next major push. Main objectives were the village of Langemarck on the left of the Salient and Glencorse Wood on the right. August 13th was the chosen day for the attacks to start. On August 11th it started to rain again, and rained, and rained, and rained. .

.. and rained! After the opening attack wed come out of the line — weather had improved a bit then — sunshine and showers — and Gertie was back to his old form. I knew how he were feeling — first time under fire and youve survived — you feel like youve just come out of the dentists — it were hell but its over and everythings going to be all right from now on.

Except that its not — youve got to do it again — and again — and again — and it never gets any better — and its when you realize that that the real test comes.

But for now Gertie felt like a hero. Bank Holiday back home, Pascoe — he said — everyone off to the coast. Wish I were with them sir — I said.

No you dont — he said — better off here. Think how they put up the price of ice cream on a Bank Holiday.

Well it were all very jolly for a while — but I knew that the longer the sun shone the more certain it was thered be another push — and sure enough on the 10th we went back into reserve — and sure enough on the 11th the rain started again.

Word is the bombardment has really got Jerry on the back foot up in Glencorse — said Gertie — doubt if well even be called forward this time.

I caught Jammy looking at me to see if Id agree —! said nothing — all I knew was the Huns had got more pillboxes than Doctor Dick in Glencorse and that Id never been in reserve yet but what we were called forward.

But still you hope against hope — when you hear the whistles and see the flares and know that up ahead the far side of Sanctuary its started — mebbe this time itll go to plan. We are cold and wet in our mud filled holes — but nobodys complaining — up there in Glencorse therell be heat enough from bombs and bullets — and men lying in the wet crying for water. Mebbe this time we wont be called — but I know we will — I know what Gerties still got to learn — that theres no such thing as worst — theres always more — and the only way to get Fritz out of his concrete pillboxes is to pile our dead so high in front of them he cant see out to fire.

It took longer than I thought afore we were called forward — not because things went better but because things were so bad hardly anybody was left to send the news back.

In a battle you only know later what youve been doing, while youre doing it all you know is what you can see right ahead of you — and when this is a sodden pock-marked desolation with a bristle of pathetic stumps that had once been trees — and theres no glimmer of sun to give you a hint of direction — then you might as well be anywhere — except there was something to give us a hint

— bodies — this was where the first attack had gone in no doubt — like a trail dropped in a paperchase the bodies of our own dead showed us the way — we even trod on them — no helping it — and besides they kept you out of the mud.

I could hear Gertie jabbering away — lots of encouraging words like he was at a football match — but a bit too high a bit too fast — then suddenly they stopped and I thought hes bought it! But when I looked along the line I saw hed just come to a halt — just like that first time — mouth open like a hen with gapes — staring at a head which had got blown clean off some poor devils shoulders and landed squat on the end of one of those blasted stumps.

I saw Jammy give him a push — then when that didnt work a real jab in the kidneys — that woke him up and off he went again — only he wasnt shouting any more — Jerry had been pretty quiet up till now — maybe to let us get close — but suddenly he opened up from those bloody boxes — we all went down so quick it must have been hard to say whod been hit who not — only when we started to move and slither into better protection it soon became clear — Johnny Cadger was hit — hed always been looking for a Blighty but from the awful bubbling screams he was letting out hed overdone it — a lot of others too — but worst of all Jammy had taken one in the chest. Steve was close by him and had managed to drag him into cover, somehow I wriggled across to join them — Gertie was in the same hole — he looked so bad I felt sure he mustve caught one too — but Steve said — no hes all right but the sergeants bad — Jammy looked up at me and said — acting sergeant now Pete — mebbe permanent from the way I feel — I said — Nay Jammy — miserable sod like you wouldnt do owt nice like dying on us — he tried to smile then said

— Hows the platoon? — Fine — I said — He said — Get them back soon as its dark — thats the order right sir? — We all looked at Gertie who made an effort and nodded — Then Jammy said — Youd best lead Pete — Mr Grindal ull bring up the rear — I could see his point — Gertie was likely to lead us straight to the nearest pillbox — but I didnt like leaving Jammy — Steve said — Itll be right Pete me and the lieutenant ull bring the sarge along — so I set off crawling to see what was left of the platoon.

Dark came soon and off we set back — soon as we started moving Jerry sent flares up and started shooting but we kept going till we came to the end of the stumps of Glencorse and were looking across the open stretch between us and our lines in Sanctuary. We closed up here. There were more of us left than Id feared at first. In fact I saw a couple of faces — including Doyles — that Id not seen for some time — and I wondered if theyd been lying low looking for a chance to get back unscathed. Well I wasnt going to bubble them. All that concerned me was that Jammy was still with us — held up between Steve and the lieutenant — I began to feel almost hopeful.

I offered to take Gerties place — but Steve said — No hes better with something to do — so I went back to leading — would it have made any difference if Id insisted? — Maybe — but at least I got the others back safe despite a flurry of flares and bullets as we crawled the last hundred yards.

But there was a long pause after the last squaddie reached Sanctuary — then Gertie appeared by himself.

Where are the others? — I yelled. They caught it — he said — back there — it was hopeless — theyre dead.

I almost hit him — would have done if Chuffy hadnt grabbed my arm — not cos I didnt believe him — but cos I felt it were my fault — trusting him. Just as well I didn't connect as Cap Evenlode the adjutant showed up just then — dont know what hed seen but he gave us an old fashioned look. Word is he dont much like Gertie — typical stuck up family — likely thinks the Grindals are trade — and when he took Gertie aside with him to make his report I bet he gave him a rollocking too about controlling his men. But I didnt have time to worry about that — I was listening to a voice shouting somewhere out towards Glencorse — nothing unusual in the Salient — the air was full of voices calling screaming sobbing — it was the mud — once you were wounded and by yourself you soon got stuck fast — stretcher bearers did all they could but it often needed half a dozen men to pull one out — God knows how many died that might have been saved if they could have made it to a dressing station — so when I said — Listen — thats Steve — they all thought I was being delirious — but I knew that voice — and besides now he was calling my name — Pete — Pete — so I didnt stop to think but went back out of the trench before anyone could try to stop me. I wer-ent being brave — I just knew I could never go back to Kirkton and tell the usual lies about him dying like a hero if Id left him to a long slow drowning in that mud.

I had a piece of rope coiled round my waist — that was one thing wed learned in that first attack on Sanctuary — Jammy had managed to scavenge a whole coil while we were in rest — and everyone in the platoon got a length — and I had a field dressing pack — those apart I had nowt — I hadnt even bothered to bring my bondook — I wasnt going out there to kill anyone — but there were plenty who had other ideas.

From time to time a flare went up from either side making me think of the shepherds in the field when glory shone around. It were like that glory too — meaning that for a short while you saw everything perfectly clear, then darkness came rushing back worse than before and I had to lie still till I got my night sight back again. But oh the sights I saw under that floating white light — wed fought back and forth over this ground for more than a week and there was scarcely a shellhole I looked into in search of Steve that didnt have its occupant. Desperate now to find Steve even if only to know for certain he were dead I turned corpses over — and sometimes they were men I knew — and sometimes they were men their own mothers would not have known — but none was Steve.

Id not dared call his name for fear of letting Fritz know I were out here — but in the end anything were better than slithering endlessly through this hell so I yelled his name — and discovered that even a man at the extreme of fear can still be made to jump when a reply came back so close it seemed almost in my ear. I turned my head and peered into the gloom of a deep hole — after a while something moved down there — a darkness moving against a darkness — then a tiny gleam — a sliver of whiteness — gave me a point to focus on — it was an eye — and as I looked a face formed around it — and Steves voice said — You took your fucking time.

Gertie said you and the sarge had bought it — I said — He could be right — said Steve — he certainly is about the sarge — Oh shit — I said — Where is he Steve? Wheres Jammy? — I think Im standing on him — he said.

By now I could make out he were in a bad way — never mind what wounds he had — the left side of his head lay on the surface of the mud and of his body only his right arm and shoulder were still not covered. I threw him the end of my rope and he grasped it in his hand then twisted it round and round his wrist till it were held tight and I started to pull. The piece of ground I was lying on was full of debris so it provided a firmer base than anywhere else Id crawled that night — but not even this advantage could give me enough purchase to haul him free — and all his struggles to help himself did was sink him deeper.

Its no good, Pete, he said — Im a goner. Tell Mary she can play around all she likes now but if she doesn't do right by little Steve I’ll come back to haunt her so help me God.

Wed never talked of it before but I knew then that he knew what all the lads from Kirkton knew — that his Mary wasnt exactly saving herself for her heroes return.

I said — Don't talk daft — I’ll get some help — well soon have you out of there — And he said — For God's sake dont leave me like this — put a bullet through my head before you go. Cant do that — Isaid — I came out without my bondook — Thats a hanging offence — he said — why dont you get some practise in? I’ll put this rope round my neck and you heave on your end and see if youve got enough strength to strangle me.

God help us — I dont think he was joking — but before I could decide what to do — and what I would have decided I’ll never know — another flare went up and by its light I saw that God had taken the power of decision away from me. On the far side of the shellhole four German soldiers were crouched — three with rifles and one — the officer — with a pistol pointed straight at me.

I thought of running — and I thought of surrendering — and I thought of Alice and Ada and Kirkton — and while I was thinking of all these things I held up the end of the rope and pointed at Steve and said — Mein Bruder.

I didnt know the German for cousin and maybe if I had it wouldnt have been so effective — but Bruder made them pause just long enough for the officer to say something. The expected rattle of gunfire didn't come — Slowly the flare faded — I remained quite still — where would I run to? — and when I got my sight back they were at my side.

I think they checked that I had no weapon — just a medical pack — perhaps they thought I was a noncombatant stretcher bearer or something like that — perhaps the officer had a brother in the trenches — he was young — same age as our Gertie Id say — with the sunken shadowed eyes that mark all of us whove been too long at the Front — what else is there to say about him? — Nothing — and everything — I wouldnt recognize him if I met him in the street — but I wish him well and safely home — for he spoke again to his men and they took the rope from me and began to pull — and slowly Steve came out of that dreadful hole.

I think there may have been a moment when he wondered whether to take us prisoner — words were spoken — the officer looked from me to Steve who was lying semiconscious at my side — and I would guess he said that taking us back with them was likely to prove a lot more dangerous than leaving us to our own devices.

Whatever — he spoke to me in English — the one phrase — Good luck — then they moved off — and Steve and I were by ourselves without a care in the world except how the two of us — one wounded — one exhausted — were to get back to our trenches without getting drowned — blown up — or shot by either side.

But get back we did — and by one last miracle almost to the very point where Id slipped over the top. Dawn was lightening the east and the lads were on stand to — so I risked a shout which was less of a risk than being taken for a sneak attack — and a few moments later I was drinking a mug of tea while Steve was being stretchered to the rear.

It were funny — when news reached the remnants of the platoon that he should be OK though hed got a Blighty one he quickly changed from poor bastard to lucky bastard. What really caught the lads interest was our encounter with the Huns — as word got around about this — I found men from other platoons were coming up to me and asking me about it — out here we never hated the Hun like they do back home — too much sense that hes in the same bleeding boat — and this story of mine mebbe set them dreaming that somehow wed do out here what clearly they couldnt do back there and strike our own private peace.

I didnt know how I was going to react when I saw Gertie — or how he was going to react when he saw me. The way Steve told it he could have genuinely believed Jammy and him were both dead — so I gave him the benefit of the doubt — and he looked me straight in the eyes and said how glad he was hed been wrong about Steve — and how sad he was about Jammy — then he told me to sew another stripe on as he was recommending I got made up to sergeant in Jammys place.

Only once did I let my control slip — back in rest again I was sorting out the days Orders with him when he said — Word of advice sergeant — go easy on spreading tales about friendly Huns — adjutant must have heard something — told me very pointed this morning that fraternizing with the enemy is regarded very seriously back at Base.

I said — Fraternizing? — They saved our fucking lives!

— And he said — Exactly — so how do you feel about shooting Germans now? — And I said — Them Germans?

— If I knew it was them Id not shoot — in fact theres a lot of our own lot back at Base Id sooner shoot than any of them Germans! Gertie said — For Christ sake Peter be careful what you say — you know how they feel about agitators just now — anyone else hears you talking like that and youre in real trouble — mutiny trouble — weve got to do our duty — follow orders — theres no other way — dont you see?

Well hes right of course — and the brass are right — and that German officer was right — and Im right too — and if every buggers so bloody right why arent we all back home moaning about the price of ice cream on a Bank Holiday instead of being stuck in the middle of this stinking mud hole where everythings so fucking wrong?

Why? Why? WHY?

The rain was slackening off just as it had slackened off early in September all those years ago, to be replaced by a gusty wind drying up the ground and with it any hopes that the brass might decide that the fixture was rained off. Not that, on past performance, there'd ever been much chance of that anyway.

Pascoe looked up at the trees, almost leafless now in November, but still tall and shapely with all the latent promise of spring's renewal in the supple swaying of their boughs. As he looked, his inward eye which was the curse of solitude stripped them of everything till they were mere black lifeless stumps. Through Glencorse and into Polygon. Every small advance doing nothing but put a few more yards of ravaged ground between you and whatever mockery of peace remained to the rear. And after Polygon, with the winter rains settling in, weeks more of the endless crawl through the yellow mud up the shallow ridge where stood, or rather lay, the ruined village of Passchendaele.

Pascoe forced himself back to the present by looking at his watch till at last the time registered. What had Pottle said? A window between four and five?

That's what I need, thought Pascoe. A window, nice and high, looking out across a sunlit pastoral landscape.

He was getting the sun at least. The storm had over-taken him and was moving east. Westward the dying sun rimmed the horizon with red and the sky was clear. Could be a frost tonight, he thought. Always something to look forward to.

He started the engine and went in pursuit of the retreating clouds.