were screws and Bokumbo had the greatest contempt for screws. O.K. They had a job to do but what kind of a man takes on that kind of a job? Bokumbo yawned. Suppose they’ll make it tough. O.K. I can take it. He stopped yawning and he grinned again. He knew that he was strong and fit and the hill and the insults wouldn’t get him down. To hell with the screws. Who cares about screws? They bawl and shout but they don’t do any real damage.
He swivelled his eyes as the M.O.’s door opened with a crash and watched Bartlett, looking scared out of his wits, run out followed by the R.S.M. in a fury.
“Staff,” shouted the R.S.M. “I want this one scrubbed with a yard broom. He’s blacker than a darkie.”
Bokumbo’s grin widened. Remarks like that never bothered him.
“Yes, sir,” shouted Williams.
“Right. Next.”
Williams moved to Roberts and said very softly. “Mark time.”
The R.S.M. shouted “Double over here.”
Roberts was about to take off when Williams said still in a quiet voice, “You dirty snivelling rat. Who told you to move?”
Roberts halted and looked at Williams. The R.S.M. shouted even louder “You hear me, Roberts. Staff, what the hell’s going on?”
Williams grabbed Roberts and sent him flying. “Get over there when you’re told. Get over.”
Roberts fell on his knees then slowly stood up.
“Double,” yelled the R.S.M.
“Double,” yelled Williams.
Roberts dusted himself down then slowly walked towards the R.S.M. “You two want to make up your minds.” The R.S.M. grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, all prepared to heave him into the M.O.’s room. They struggled then stood glaring at each other. “I don’t know what kind of a vet he is, Sergeant-Major, but if he sees you belting me, you never know he might feel inclined to report it.”
Captain Markham stepped out of the M.O.’s room. “What’s going on here, Sergeant-Major?”
The R.S.M. released Roberts. “This is Roberts, sir.”
“Oh.” Markham nodded. “Roberts, eh.”
“He reckons he’s at Butlin’s Holiday Camp.”
“Discipline’s your department, Sergeant-Major. I’m only concerned with the men’s health, but do we have to have all this brawling?”
“Prisoner seems to be allergic to doubling, sir.”
“I see.” Markham looked at Roberts. “Bad feet have you?”
“No, sir. They can move when I tell them to.”
“I like straight answers to straight questions. It won’t take me long to find out if you’re fit or not.”
Roberts looked at Markham with contempt. “I’ve witnessed that, sir. You must be a bloody marvel with the undertakers’ tape.”
Markham looked from Roberts to the R.S.M. “I’m also pretty good at detecting line dodgers,” he said.
“Pity you ain’t expert at finding out if us poor sods are fit enough for the bloody nonsense we’re expected to stand for here,” said Roberts.
Markham nodded to the door. “Go inside.”
Roberts walked into the M.O.’s room. “I’ll handle this, Sergeant-Major.” He nodded to the R.S.M. and followed Roberts into the room and closed the door.
The R.S.M. stood rocking on his heels looking thoughtful. Williams marched over to him and slammed to attention but for a good thirty seconds the R.S.M. ignored him, then he looked directly at Williams.
“The hill, sir?” enquired Williams.
The R.S.M. slowly nodded his head as he looked at the hill. “I want him broken, Staff.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Markham looked at Roberts standing at attention in front of him. “Shirt off,” he snapped and waited while Roberts, taking his time, pulled his shirt over his head, folded it neatly, placed it on a chair and then stood to attention again. “Vest off,” said Markham, “I shouldn’t have to tell you.” Roberts stripped to the waist and Markham gave him a reasonably thorough medical examination then nodded, “You’re in good shape. Have you ever had any serious illnesses?”
“Do you mean recently,
He swivelled his eyes as the M.O.’s door opened with a crash and watched Bartlett, looking scared out of his wits, run out followed by the R.S.M. in a fury.
“Staff,” shouted the R.S.M. “I want this one scrubbed with a yard broom. He’s blacker than a darkie.”
Bokumbo’s grin widened. Remarks like that never bothered him.
“Yes, sir,” shouted Williams.
“Right. Next.”
Williams moved to Roberts and said very softly. “Mark time.”
The R.S.M. shouted “Double over here.”
Roberts was about to take off when Williams said still in a quiet voice, “You dirty snivelling rat. Who told you to move?”
Roberts halted and looked at Williams. The R.S.M. shouted even louder “You hear me, Roberts. Staff, what the hell’s going on?”
Williams grabbed Roberts and sent him flying. “Get over there when you’re told. Get over.”
Roberts fell on his knees then slowly stood up.
“Double,” yelled the R.S.M.
“Double,” yelled Williams.
Roberts dusted himself down then slowly walked towards the R.S.M. “You two want to make up your minds.” The R.S.M. grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, all prepared to heave him into the M.O.’s room. They struggled then stood glaring at each other. “I don’t know what kind of a vet he is, Sergeant-Major, but if he sees you belting me, you never know he might feel inclined to report it.”
Captain Markham stepped out of the M.O.’s room. “What’s going on here, Sergeant-Major?”
The R.S.M. released Roberts. “This is Roberts, sir.”
“Oh.” Markham nodded. “Roberts, eh.”
“He reckons he’s at Butlin’s Holiday Camp.”
“Discipline’s your department, Sergeant-Major. I’m only concerned with the men’s health, but do we have to have all this brawling?”
“Prisoner seems to be allergic to doubling, sir.”
“I see.” Markham looked at Roberts. “Bad feet have you?”
“No, sir. They can move when I tell them to.”
“I like straight answers to straight questions. It won’t take me long to find out if you’re fit or not.”
Roberts looked at Markham with contempt. “I’ve witnessed that, sir. You must be a bloody marvel with the undertakers’ tape.”
Markham looked from Roberts to the R.S.M. “I’m also pretty good at detecting line dodgers,” he said.
“Pity you ain’t expert at finding out if us poor sods are fit enough for the bloody nonsense we’re expected to stand for here,” said Roberts.
Markham nodded to the door. “Go inside.”
Roberts walked into the M.O.’s room. “I’ll handle this, Sergeant-Major.” He nodded to the R.S.M. and followed Roberts into the room and closed the door.
The R.S.M. stood rocking on his heels looking thoughtful. Williams marched over to him and slammed to attention but for a good thirty seconds the R.S.M. ignored him, then he looked directly at Williams.
“The hill, sir?” enquired Williams.
The R.S.M. slowly nodded his head as he looked at the hill. “I want him broken, Staff.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Markham looked at Roberts standing at attention in front of him. “Shirt off,” he snapped and waited while Roberts, taking his time, pulled his shirt over his head, folded it neatly, placed it on a chair and then stood to attention again. “Vest off,” said Markham, “I shouldn’t have to tell you.” Roberts stripped to the waist and Markham gave him a reasonably thorough medical examination then nodded, “You’re in good shape. Have you ever had any serious illnesses?”
“Do you mean recently,
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