The Convoy

Well the sun it shines down on these green fields of France,
The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance.

Eric Bogle

You can't sit and cry for ever. Tears can only take you so far. Sooner or later you have to stop and think about what you're going to do next. You can do that for quite a long time. You look at the water in the harbour and you look at the wall behind you, with its lifebelts and notices. There's a little lighthouse at the end of the pier. As it's still daylight and the weather is fine you probably notice that its light isn't flashing. Nor is its foghorn sounding.

After a while you realise that all this is getting you absolutely nowhere. So you stand up and grab hold of your kitbag and turn away from the sea and walk slowly down the pier to the dockside, while the salt air blows and the gulls cry and the platoons of marching men press you to the harbour wall. Beggar it. Oh, beggar it all to hell.

'Let's go to the station,' Alfie said when we reached the dockside. 'We can catch a train back to London.'

'We'll catch it all right. We'll catch it from Captain Lowther, that's for sure.'

'Oh, I'm sure that with your intelligence and my charm we'll muddle through somehow.'

'Don't be silly, daemon.' A thought struck me. 'The trains go straight from here to Aldbrickham, don't they?'

'Yes, that's how we used to get here in the old days.'

'So we could... we could go home.'

'What?' Alfie stared into my eyes and I stopped dead on the pavement. 'Home? To Aunt Sybil?'

I stared back at him. 'It wouldn't be so bad.'

Alfie shook his head. '"Wouldn't be so bad!" I thought I was the coward around here.'

'You're not a coward.'

'You will be if you give up now and go home. What would you do there?'

'I don't know. Help with the farm, teach in the village school. I'd find something to do.'

'Hah. Hah! You, a teacher? Hold me while I split my sides!'

I very nearly dropped him on the pavement. 'So what are we going to do?'

'We are going to go back to London. We are going to tell Captain Lowther what we have done. All of it.'

'She'll be furious.'

'Yes, she will.'

'She'll put us on a charge. We'll be scrubbing floors for a month.'

'Yes, we will.'

All this time soldiers, sailors, longshoremen and pilots, customs officers and policemen flowed around us, respecting our right to disagree in public and argue out aloud.

'I can't face her. I thought I'd never have to see her again. I was going to write to her once we got to Frankland. I was going to explain.'

'Once we were safely out of the country. Cowardy-cowardy-custard.'

'Oh shut up! Bloody sarcastic, know-it-all daemon! I hate you!' I pulled back my arm to, I don't know, throw him in the water or something like that. Something incredibly stupid, anyway. But a hand caught my elbow.

'Don't, miss.'

I looked down. It was a boy, maybe ten or eleven years old, but looking both younger and older than that. He was short and scrawny and his face was pinched and grey. The scrappy tatters of a grey uniform flapped around his shoulders. I could smell his poverty, sour and desperate.

'What do you want, boy?' Oh no, that came out all wrong. I didn't mean to sound so haughty.

'Don't hurt him, miss.' The boy's own daemon was shrew-formed, clinging to his arm with her whiskers twitching nervously.

'Mind your own business.' How dare this urchin interfere with Alfie and me! I turned away. 'Unless,' I said over my shoulder, 'You want to carry my luggage back to the station for me. There's sixpence in it for you.'

'It's too heavy for us, miss. But miss...'

I turned back to face him and caught sight of his eyes for the first time. They were a startling, hypnotic azure blue, like the colour you see in pictures of the Peaceable Ocean.

'Yes?'

'You could take another ship. Find Mabel and Nancy on the other side.'

I was dumbstruck. How could he possibly know what I was doing, who I was trying to catch up with?

'There, miss. Do you see?' He pointed to a group of men and my eyes were compelled to follow his finger. 'They'll help you.'

I suddenly realised that the boy was indicating the men I had shared a railway compartment with that morning. The were formed up with their platoon next to a loading crane. 'Their ship sails in an hour. Go on, now.' He gave me a gentle shove.

And the boy disappeared, just like that. I looked around wildly. Where was he? Was that him, in a sad cohort of workhouse kids, clustered around a well-fed and brutal-looking overseer? Or over there, sitting on a barrel of fuel oil? Where on earth had he gone?

I must have looked ridiculous, standing with my kitbag and daemon in the middle of the dockyard, with my eyes swivelling around like a loose turret. No wonder my friend the lance-corporal detached himself from his men and walked over to me. 'Hello! Are you all right there, miss?' he said, giving me a friendly smile.

I smiled back at him, my worries and fears dissolving away. 'I am now,' I said.

That night I dreamed I slept with the blue-eyed boy and we made love together. I can't explain it. I'd never made love with another person and he was only a little boy, and an unattractive one at that. But there was something about his eyes that made me want to take him in my arms and wrap myself about him and press our bodies together until we both howled with the shared delirium of it. I woke in a terrific sweat with Alfie on the verge of a Change.

I'm getting ahead of myself. What happened before that was I told Lance-Corporal Bosham I'd missed my ship, but that I was sure that if I could only get to wherever it was that he was going I'd be able to link up with my unit and that everything would work out. He took me to see his platoon commander, who was a very young-looking subaltern with a permanently pink face and nicely tousled, light-brown hair. Second Lieutenant Hindhead blinked at the sight of my bristly head (my uniform cap hid the worst of it), shook his head, said it was all most irregular and that he'd have to talk to his CO, but yielded when I told him how terribly grateful I'd be if he'd protect me. Poor chap! He was hardly any older than me, fresh out of school and terrified of putting a foot wrong.

I was to learn that there were a lot of inexperienced young officers like him in our forces. Brytain had been an Imperial power too long and our soldiers were trained to administer colonies, not wage war against a well-organised foe.

I hid myself in the middle of the second rank of Lieutenant Hindhead's platoon. I got around any problems that might have arisen with the military police by borrowing a beret and regimental cap badge. Apart from my grey uniform and the fact that I was carrying a kitbag instead of a pack I looked not completely unlike a skinny soldier with a very short haircut. 'What's KSLI stand for?' I asked, returning the beret and its inscribed badge to its owner once we were safely embarked and camped on the foredeck of HMS Aardvark.

'That's King's Salopshire Light Infantry, miss,' the quiet private I'd spoken to on the train replied.

'Are you all from around there? Salop and Clee Hill and the Ercall?'

'Yes, miss.'

'Oh, please stop calling me that! My friends call me Sunny.'

'Sonny? Like Sonny Boy?'

'No - Sunny as in Sunny Jim. You know:

"Over the fence flies Sunny Jim,
It was Force Flakes that made him."

'I'm Sonya really, but I hate it. It's a silly name. Sonya Clarice Moon. Ugh!'

'I'm John. John Fraser. Pleased to meet you.' We shook hands and our daemons silently exchanged greetings.

The good ship Aardvark cast off and, rocking slightly, joined the rest of the fleet that was sailing over the Manche to Frankland. We lay on the deck with our packs or kitbags for pillows and watched the sky grow slowly dark and the stars come out. Smoke poured from the funnels behind us. The running lights - red, white and green - were lit and I remembered an old saying of Daddy's:

Green to Green, Red to Red,
Perfect safety, go ahead.

It was a Rule For The Avoidance Of Collisions At Sea, or so he had told me. That sounded terribly important, so I'd memorised it.

We chatted, and at eight o'clock we were detailed off in threes to take our mess-tins to the galley to get our rations, which were bread and stew and chai. 'We'll get rum later,' said John Fraser, and we did. It had been a long day, and the rum went straight to my head, even though it had been diluted with hot water to make grog. I'd been looking forward to trying some grog. The Comrades Three of my childhood reading were always throwing back tumblers of the stuff, so I supposed that you couldn't really go adventuring unless you had some with you. It was pretty foul, actually, and I didn't light up a cigarette until I was sure the fumes weren't going to set my throat on fire. I handed the rest of my earlier poker winnings around the platoon.

If Aunt Sybil had known I had taken up smoking! And Woodbines, too! Alfie was turning into a bit of an Aunt Sybil himself. He moaned about the smell, mostly. Keep that stuff away from my fur, he complained. Thinking of Aunt Sybil reminded me of home, and Daddy. I had some new unopened letters from him in my tunic pocket so now, as the evening turned into night and we snuggled together on the deck, trying not to poke each other in the face, I opened the one with the latest postmark (three weeks ago) and read it:

Dearest Sunshine,

I can't tell you where I am at present, but do be sure that I am safe and well and missing my darling daughter very much.

'I miss you too, Daddy.'

I am sorry to tell you that I have received some very disturbing letters from your Aunt Sybil in which she tells me that you have abandoned your schooling and run away to join the Ambulance Brigade.

In response, I have written both to her and to the commander of your depot, Captain Joy Lowther.

"Joy"? That was her name? I giggled.

Sonya, it was most irresponsible of you to take off by yourself without telling anyone. In fact, Sybil informs me that you told deliberate lies and performed an elaborate subterfuge to make your getaway. I cannot say that I was at all pleased to discover that my daughter had become such an accomplished liar.

My heart sank. I'd not thought of it like that.

You and I will have to have a very serious talk when next I return home on leave. You are a Moon, and a Gresham. Such behaviour not only demeans your own good character, it is also a betrayal of two honest and honourable family names. I am very disappointed in you for behaving in this way.

Oh. My heart sank further. I had thought I was doing the right thing. I had thought I was so jolly clever, and now it looked as if I had been nothing more than a nasty, lying little cow.

However. I know why you did it, Sunny, because I have done the same thing myself (without the deceitfulness.) I cannot bring myself to condemn you for doing what I have done and, especially, what Gerry did. You are a Moon; and Moons don't sit still when there are work and duty to be done.

In this respect I am very proud of you, my darling. Some day soon we will meet again, and you and I will be able to shake hands over your past mistakes and stand side by side, wearing the King's uniform. I shall be very honoured to do that.

Your loving,

Daddy

'Are you all right, miss... er, Sunny?' said Private John Fraser.

'Yes,' I sniffled, 'Perfectly all right.' And I put an arm over his chest and buried my face in his shoulder.

And that night I had that strange dream I told you about and woke disturbed, frustrated and aroused with nothing to be done about it. I sat up, feeling the hot blood blushing my cheeks. The ship was steaming at a steady pace through the water and the first brightening of the dawn was showing on the port side. Ahead, in the ever-increasing light, I could see the coastline and ranks of ships standing outside the entrance to the port of Le Havre, where we were due to land. I guessed that we would have to wait some time before disembarking, so I stepped carefully over the ranks of sleeping men and found the heads, where I found a cubicle and relieved myself. When I returned to my place, it was to find that John had put his hand on my kitbag-pillow. I lifted it gently aside, stretched myself out on the hard wooden decking, and let his arm nestle next to mine, warm and comforting. It was the coldest part of the night, and I needed that.

The ship's engines throbbed and the wind of our passage swept over us. The men of the KSLI had arranged things so that I was sheltered by the nearby forward gun-turret and their own bodies. Above me, and towards the stern of the ship was the bridge. I could see the helmsman and the captain at their stations, their faces lit by the the anbaric glow of the running-lights. I thought about Daddy. Was he standing on the bridge of his own ship, looking towards some foreign shore? Perhaps he was part of this very convoy. My heart ached when I thought of him. Maybe I could have found HMS Undaunted in the Pompey docks and be standing next to him now. We would talk through the long night-watch; about home, and London, and the Ambulance Brigade. And about Gerry, of course, buried somewhere under the waves off the coast of Heligoland, sunk by a treacherous mine.

Oh Gerry, if only you could be here now. We'd talk and talk and talk... Alfie was silent. He had his own memories.

We finally docked at midday. I had been growing increasingly anxious as the morning wore on and we tossed in the bay outside the harbour, waiting our turn to dock. The wind blew first onshore and then offshore. It rained for a while and we took shelter under our capes. The tension and worry built up in me as the long hours dragged by. How far in front of us was HMS Littlehampton? Would the Advance Brigade form up and drive off before Alfie and I could intercept it? What would we do then?

Don't fret, said Alfie. There's nothing we can do about it. We just have to wait. Some of his sang-froid transferred to me, of course, and I felt a little calmer, although still worried.

As soon as the gangway was in place, I broke ranks (we had been standing in our platoons and companies for hours) and ran down it to dry land. 'Hoi! You! Sonny! Come back 'ere!' came the voice of an irate sergeant-major behind me but I ignored him and, ducking between the outstretched arms of two MPs, ran through the lines of men who had already disembarked. Great! I couldn't keep up that pace for long with the weight of my kitbag pressing down on my shoulder, so I stopped as soon as I had reached the dock gates and set it down by my feet.

Now then. Next move - find my comrades. I dredged my memory for the Frankish I had learned at Highdean. 'Monsieur?' I called to a passer-by, 'Ou se trouve le gare?'

The man shrugged his shoulders and I braced myself for a stream of incomprehensible Frankish. 'Il te faut suivre les soldats,' he said, and turned away with a disdainful look. Right. That was pretty obvious. If I wanted to find the railway station, all I had to do was to follow the lines of men marching into town. No doubt they would parade in the square before joining the trains that would take them to the Front. I hoisted up my kitbag again and set off after them.

If I hadn't stopped on the way to the centre-ville to rest my aching arms I'd have missed them. The ambulances, I mean. As soon as I saw them, it clicked in my mind. Of course! We were ambulance drivers, weren't we? What could be simpler than that we should drive the ambulances from the port to the Advance Brigade's base? They couldn't go by train - the trains would be full of men and materiel. Why waste space that could otherwise be used by our fighting forces?

To save benzenol? said Alfie.

Yes, clever daemon. To save gaz. Now come on!

The ambulances were parked in a row along a side street, pointing out at an angle into the roadway. I remembered that people drive on the right hand side of the road in Frankland. That might take some getting used to. I could just about manage driving on the left... So, what to do now?

Hide in the back, said Alfie. We can't let them know we're here yet. They could still send us back to England. They won't be able to do that once we're up at the Front.

Sensible Alfie! I kissed his nose. Come on, then. And I leaned forward and let my kitbag roll off my shoulder and into the back of the first ambulance in the row. I was learning a few tricks of the soldiering trade, you see. I jumped in after it, pulled out a stretcher, and laid down on it.

Then Alfie and I fell fast asleep. It had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet. That's another thing soldiers do; to get some sleep whenever there's an opportunity, because you never know when your next chance will come.

When we awoke, we were were rolling down the straight roads of northern Frankland at a steady thirty miles per hour. I sat up carefully and peeked out of the right-hand window. The afternoon sun was blinking and flashing as its rays were interrupted by the trees which were planted at twenty-foot intervals along both sides of the road.

For shade in summer, said Alfie.

Let's hope we don't drive into them! I replied.

There were two people in the front of the ambulance. I lay down again quickly, but not quickly enough to escape the notice of the passenger. She turned around and smiled at me. 'Hello, Sleeping Beauty,' she said.

There was no point in our hiding any more so I got to my feet and made my way to the front of the vehicle, holding on to the grab-rail as I went.

'Hello,' I said, 'I'm Driver Moon. Sunny.' I held out my hand and the passenger took it with a grin.

'Nice to meet you, Sunny. I'm Driver Georgina Harris, but you can call me Georgie. Oh, and here's Mungo.' Georgie's daemon was a beautiful, sleek-furred otter. This,' nodding towards the driver, a tall, dark-haired girl whose head kept bumping against the cab roof, 'is Catherine, or Kathryn, or Ekaterina or whatever she's calling herself today.'

The driver turned and looked at me over the top of her opticals. 'Hello, Ekaterina,' I said. 'I won't shake your hand just now.' I had much rather she kept it on the steering tiller.

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said and, letting go of the controls, pumped my arm vigorously. The vehicle continued on its way regardless.

'Pleased to meet you, Kathryn,' I said. 'This is Alpharintus.' Alfie bowed to her fox-daemon Kyrillion. 'What would you actually prefer to be called?'

'Kathryn, Caitlyne, Kathleen, Ekaterina, Kathy, Catherine, Rene, Katie, I don't mind.'

'But there must be one name you like more than any of the others.'

The girl thought for a minute. 'Oh sod it,' she said. 'Just call me Kate.'

We took it in turns to drive in shifts of two hours each. No wonder Georgie and Sod-It (as Alfie and I were calling Kate to ourselves) hadn't thrown me out of the ambulance when they set off. (Of course they had checked in the back before they set off). Not when I could give them valuable extra hours of sleeping time by sharing the driving job. I was horrified to learn that we were expected to drive all day and all night. We would only be allowed to stop to refuel. I stayed in the ambulance while we were stationary because I wanted to surprise Nancy and Mabel when we arrived at our destination.

When I wasn't driving, keeping a careful eye on the red lights of the vehicle in front, I sat and smoked in the passenger seat or lay on the stretcher in the back. I wasn't feeling so tired now, and as we bounced and bumped down the Frankish roads, a little jingle started to form itself in my head. I couldn't write it down then, but later I found I still remembered it so I put it in my driver's logbook, at the back. I called it The Convoy and this is how it went:

Wheels have spokes,
And spokes tell jokes,
To tyres behind your back.

Clerks from banks,
And ranks of tanks,
Are stumbling in their track.

You and I,
May sigh and try,
For all the things we lack.

It's good to see,
That you and me,
Have rations in our pack.

And that we'll never turn our back,
not even tho' our courage crack,
and fail before the first attack.

Silly stuff, I know, but it helped to pass the time.

It seemed to go on for ever, that journey, though it was really no more than a day and a half until we pulled up in the square of the town of St-Claude, a few miles to the north of Geneva on our side of the river Rhone. I was asleep when we stopped moving, so the first Alfie and I knew of our arrival was when a hand shook my shoulder and a voice I didn't know said, 'Shake a leg, there. Billeting parade!'

I staggered to my feet and climbed out of the back, pulling my kitbag after me. The other women and girls were lining up in ranks, so I joined the end of one of them, next to Sod-It. I could see no sign of Mabel or Nancy but I wasn't surprised as it was about three o'clock in the morning and dark. A tough-looking woman stood in front of us with a row of what appeared to be townsfolk behind her. 'Right, you lot,' she said. 'I've got your billeting details here. Fall out in threes from the front and collect your sheets. These good people here will show you your billets for tonight. First parade is at eight ack-emma tomorrow. Enjoy your lie-in, ladies. Dismissed!

Kate, another girl I hadn't met before and I were assigned to a Madame Fluegel. She owned a house set back a little from the centre of the town and we were given truckle beds in the attic. Five hour's sleep! said Alfie as we settled down.

Less than that. We've got to get up, get dressed and eat breakfast before eight.

You have. I'm a daemon, remember? Just let me know when you've seen to your physical needs and I'll look after our metaphysical ones.

By sleeping?

Yes.

There's no need to look so smug about it.

No?

No. Anyway, we'll meet up with the Comrades Three in the morning.

And then?

And then - we'll find out why we're here. What drove us to come here. Because, Alfie...

Yes? came my daemon's sleepy voice in my inner ear.

I'm double-damned if I know!

Author's note

You may be wondering why Sunny and Alfie sometimes talk to each other in italics and at other times using normal quoted speech. The answer is that I believe that humans and their daemons can converse in two modes. They can either speak as you and I might speak - out aloud - or in a more intimate, telepathic manner. In this story I have used quotes to denote vocal speech and italics to signify metaphysical communication.