Read Online Lauren's Dilemma by Margaret Tanner - Free Book Online

“Have a swig of this.” He pulled a small flask from
one of his pockets and the three of them had a mouthful each. Ernie's hands
shook so much he could hardly hold the flask, so Danny steadied it.
    “Your mate
seems in a bad way.”
    “Yeah,
cracking up fast.” They both stared at Ernie who shivered and moaned. “Come on,
you'll be all right, just keep your head down.”
    Shrapnel
poured down on them without respite. “You'll get killed for sure, Jim, if you
try leaving now. Wait until it gets dark.”
    “You're
right, not much use getting myself killed. If only I knew where Wally was.”
    “Come on,
you two, a fellow will end up with the bloody willies. Think of something
cheerful. Heard from home lately?”
    “Mum wrote,
nothing much doing there. Laurie still writes?”
    “Yeah,
we'll be getting married when I get back.”
    “If she'll
have you.” Jim grinned. “Wally fancied her, but she gave him the brush off.”
    They tried
to get Ernie to join in with them, but he huddled in one corner, groaning and
holding his head in his hands.
    “You should
try getting back to the others now, Danny.”
    “Why? I'll
see those Turks in hell before I move.”
    “You could
end up getting isolated. If something happens we mightn't be able to get you
back. Some of those poor devils.” Jim waved his hand toward an area beyond the
dugout. “Have been lying out there for hours. It's too risky trying to bring
them in until it gets dark, and then I doubt if we'll find them all.”
    “Help me,
for God’s sake.” A lull in the firing allowed the desperate plea to reach them.
    “Jesus,
there's someone out there alive.” Danny started climbing out of the dugout as
the voice kept calling.
    “Do you
want to get killed?” Jim tried to haul him back. “You were always reckless, but
this is bloody stupidity.”
    “I wouldn't
leave a dog out there.” On his hands and knees, Danny crawled over piles of
bodies, sprawled out where they had fallen.
    “Where are
you?” He flattened himself on the ground, grazing his cheek on a rock as
someone opened up with a machine gun.
    “Over
here.” In a slight gully, not far from their dugout, he noticed an arm waving
frantically from under a bush.
    “Where are
you hit?” He rolled the rest of the way until he was brought up against the
soldier's legs, and the man screamed in agony.
    “The legs
and the arm. That's why I can't drag myself back.”
    “Are you
Australian?”  
    “No, a New
Zealander.”
    “What are
you doing up here?”
    “I got
separated from my unit, just sort of ended up here. They're all dead.” The New
Zealander glanced at the body-strewn gully. “I've been calling out for hours.”
He started shivering, so Danny put the flask to his lips.
    “Brandy?”
    “Yeah, my
own special supply. Don't drink too much,” he warned. “This is all I’ve got.”
    The blood
on the New Zealander's leg had caked and dried. A rough bandage had somehow
managed to soak up the blood from his arm wound, staunching the worst of the
bleeding.
    “I'll carry
you back.”
    “Too
dangerous now. Why get yourself killed?   You don't even know me.”
    “There's a
stretcher-bearer mate of mine in our dugout.” Danny nibbled his lip. “He can
get you back to the first aid station. Can you walk at all?”
    “I don't
know.”
    “See if you
can stand.” Before the soldier had even got to his feet, they hit the ground to
avoid a murderous barrage of bullets.
    “Put your
good arm around my neck. We'll make a dash for it. If we stay out here much
longer, we're both dead. There's a sniper close by.”
    During a
momentary lull, he pulled the New Zealander to his feet. Half carrying, half
dragging him, he dashed out into the open, expecting at any moment to feel a
bullet thudding into his flesh. Those few yards seemed like a mile, but somehow
they made it. Jim helped them into the dugout and checked the New Zealander,
who had blacked out.
    “He'll
survive if I can get him back. You all