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Authors: Michael Gilbert
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pulled out a heavy, old-fashioned, cash box. Originally, no doubt, impressive in green and gilt, it was worn with age and travel to a uniform drab. Tim could remember that box as long as he could remember anything. It was full of old Post Office Savings books, certificates, passports, licences, photographs; the hundred and one things that had once seemed valuable. From it she extracted a bundle of letters, fastened with a rubber band, and took out the top one.
It was evident that she knew just where it was and that she had taken it out lately.
She passed it across to Tim, who looked at it curiously.
It was on cheap grey paper, much folded, in the faded, chunky handwriting that he knew to be his father’s. It was undated, and headed Trenches, near Ginchy’. It said:
‘Darling Liz, a great day. I’ve got my “step”. In fact, the chances are the next letter I write won’t be headed “trenches”, but Chateau – Something-or-other. In this part of the line even Brigade Commanders live in Chateaus (Chateaux?). If Roney gets the Corps – and no one deserves it more thoroughly – then it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility – splotch – sorry, that was half a ton of flying pig landed near the dug-out door and blew out the candle. Don’t worry about it, though. My privilege as Commanding Officer is to have the deepest and safest dug-out. As I was saying. It’s not even beyond the bounds of possibility that they might leap-frog me straight up to Division! In which case, I shall be writing to you on embossed notepaper, and I shan’t even post it. I shall get one of my gilded aide-de-camps to bring it to you personally. Seriously, though, I do sometimes wonder how all this is going to end. Most people at the top are doing jobs that are two, three and four grades higher than they could hope to hold down in peace time. To say nothing of the fact that we always treat the Armed Forces as Cinderella as soon as the war is over. I suppose the cynical answer is to make the most of it whilst it’s there. You can hardly expect the government to maintain a war-sized army in peace time so as not to have to demote a lot of brass-hats. However, don’t let’s count chickens. Better to wait and see if we get up there, before complaining about being booted down again.’
‘But he did get there, didn’t he,’ said Tim.
‘He was an acting Lieutenant-General when he commanded at Cologne.’
‘And how old? Thirty?’
‘Thirty-one.’
‘On top of the world.’
‘So you might think,’ said Liz. ‘He’d just been offered a job in England, too. Commandant of the newly-opened School of Chemical Warfare.’
‘Was it a good job?’
‘It was a job. Even by 1920 any job was a good job. It carried the acting rank of Brigadier.’
‘I see,’ said Tim. ‘But as he happened to die a Lieutenant-General, you got a very much higher pension.’
‘That’s right,’ said Liz.
‘Well, I don’t believe it,’ said Tim. He suddenly looked very red-faced, determined and young.
‘Don’t believe what?’
‘What you’re trying to tell me. That he might have killed himself because he saw the slump coming. No one would do that, at thirty-one, for himself, or anyone else.’
Liz looked calmly at her son for a moment and said, ‘I don’t really know that I believe it myself. But Bill wasn’t a straightforward character. He was a terrific soldier. People who ought to know say that if he had lived he must have been at least an Army Commander in this war. He might even have run the whole show. Everyone who knew him trusted him, but at the heart of it all, he wasn’t quite sure of himself. Bob understood him as well as anyone. You should ask him about it sometime. And another thing you’ve got to remember. After a long war a lot of people who have fought in it – really fought, I mean – are queer for a long time. Often it doesn’t show, but it’s there, and you’ve got to make allowances for it.’
‘You
It was evident that she knew just where it was and that she had taken it out lately.
She passed it across to Tim, who looked at it curiously.
It was on cheap grey paper, much folded, in the faded, chunky handwriting that he knew to be his father’s. It was undated, and headed Trenches, near Ginchy’. It said:
‘Darling Liz, a great day. I’ve got my “step”. In fact, the chances are the next letter I write won’t be headed “trenches”, but Chateau – Something-or-other. In this part of the line even Brigade Commanders live in Chateaus (Chateaux?). If Roney gets the Corps – and no one deserves it more thoroughly – then it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility – splotch – sorry, that was half a ton of flying pig landed near the dug-out door and blew out the candle. Don’t worry about it, though. My privilege as Commanding Officer is to have the deepest and safest dug-out. As I was saying. It’s not even beyond the bounds of possibility that they might leap-frog me straight up to Division! In which case, I shall be writing to you on embossed notepaper, and I shan’t even post it. I shall get one of my gilded aide-de-camps to bring it to you personally. Seriously, though, I do sometimes wonder how all this is going to end. Most people at the top are doing jobs that are two, three and four grades higher than they could hope to hold down in peace time. To say nothing of the fact that we always treat the Armed Forces as Cinderella as soon as the war is over. I suppose the cynical answer is to make the most of it whilst it’s there. You can hardly expect the government to maintain a war-sized army in peace time so as not to have to demote a lot of brass-hats. However, don’t let’s count chickens. Better to wait and see if we get up there, before complaining about being booted down again.’
‘But he did get there, didn’t he,’ said Tim.
‘He was an acting Lieutenant-General when he commanded at Cologne.’
‘And how old? Thirty?’
‘Thirty-one.’
‘On top of the world.’
‘So you might think,’ said Liz. ‘He’d just been offered a job in England, too. Commandant of the newly-opened School of Chemical Warfare.’
‘Was it a good job?’
‘It was a job. Even by 1920 any job was a good job. It carried the acting rank of Brigadier.’
‘I see,’ said Tim. ‘But as he happened to die a Lieutenant-General, you got a very much higher pension.’
‘That’s right,’ said Liz.
‘Well, I don’t believe it,’ said Tim. He suddenly looked very red-faced, determined and young.
‘Don’t believe what?’
‘What you’re trying to tell me. That he might have killed himself because he saw the slump coming. No one would do that, at thirty-one, for himself, or anyone else.’
Liz looked calmly at her son for a moment and said, ‘I don’t really know that I believe it myself. But Bill wasn’t a straightforward character. He was a terrific soldier. People who ought to know say that if he had lived he must have been at least an Army Commander in this war. He might even have run the whole show. Everyone who knew him trusted him, but at the heart of it all, he wasn’t quite sure of himself. Bob understood him as well as anyone. You should ask him about it sometime. And another thing you’ve got to remember. After a long war a lot of people who have fought in it – really fought, I mean – are queer for a long time. Often it doesn’t show, but it’s there, and you’ve got to make allowances for it.’
‘You
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