Do You Dare? Jimmy's War Page 4

  Jimmy, you’d be thinking we were all rabbits the way we’ve had to burrow in here. We dug ourselves into the sides of the hills, and there are more trenches further up where the fighting is. The Turks are also in trenches, closer than we’d like. Their snipers are a damn nuisance, even having a go at the ones who go swimming in the sea.

  Mum, I stink to high heaven. I’m sure you’d be telling me to have a bath!

  We’re all keeping each other’s spirits up, but it’s hard. Not long ago we had an armistice for a few hours, so everyone could bury their dead. I’m sure you don’t want to hear any more about that.

  I miss your cooking, Mum. Bully beef every day for every meal isn’t too good!

  Love to you both,

  Arthur

  Jimmy looked up. ‘What does he mean about burying the dead? I thought we were winning.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Mum said. ‘The newspapers have been making it all sound very heroic, but the letters they publish from the soldiers are more honest, I think. The numbers of dead and wounded just keep growing.’

  ‘So when is Arthur arriving? Why won’t they tell us?’

  Reading Arthur’s letter was like hearing his voice, and it reminded Jimmy of all the fun they’d had – Arthur teaching him how to ride the bicycle, the day their old rooster had sat on Arthur’s head and pooped on him, watching Arthur play footy. Arthur was so proud when he got his job at Ebelings – would they take him back?

  Jimmy just wanted his brother home again, not burying rotting bodies on a hill on the other side of the world.

  ‘Mrs Wimple gave me the newspaper today,’ Mum said. ‘Look at this.’

  Jimmy hoped this newspaper would have better news. Sure enough, it said there was a hospital ship heading their way with two hundred Victorian soldiers on board. It was landing in Western Australia that day, and then coming to Port Melbourne via Adelaide.

  ‘He could be here in a week!’ Jimmy said.

  ‘That’s right,’ Mum said, smiling. ‘I really have to get my health back. And you can help me clean out Arthur’s bedroom.’

  Soon after, there was a knock on the door, and when Jimmy opened it, there were Frank and George, asking him to come out for a game of footy. Now Mum was feeling so much better, Jimmy decided to go.

  They walked together along Anderson Street, right to the end and out into the paddocks. All around green oats were growing but a couple of paddocks were laying fallow, and on one of these the game had already started. Jimmy and his mates joined in, playing with the other boys from the yards and a bunch of boys from the school in Powell Street.

  Jimmy kicked off his old boots and felt like he was flying as he leapt for the ball and ran and kicked. It’d been cold all day, and now as the boys played, their breath puffed out in white gusts, then a light drizzle started and the dirt in the paddock turned to sticky mud. Clods of it stuck to their boots and it felt like thick socks on Jimmy’s bare feet.

  Hector was playing with his usual shoving and thumping, but a couple of the bigger boys from Powell Street soon gave him as good as they got, and Hector ended up on his bum in the mud. Jimmy couldn’t help laughing and Hector’s face darkened into a scowl.

  Uh oh, Jimmy thought.

  Sure enough, a few minutes later, Jimmy had the ball and was about to kick it when Hector came running towards him, teeth bared. Jimmy got rid of the ball quick smart, but Hector didn’t pull up, barrelling into Jimmy and knocking him a few feet onto his back. He lay there, half-winded, and Hector cackled. ‘Not so funny now, ya little sissy.’

  ‘Hey, no need for that,’ Frank shouted, but Hector ignored him and ran off.

  Jimmy staggered to his feet. If only he was big and tough like Arthur, he’d give Hector a good thumping. One day . . .

  When it got too dark to see the ball, they all agreed the score was even, and the boys headed off home for their supper. Frank and Jimmy scraped the mud off their feet and Jimmy carried his boots under his arm as they walked back along Anderson Street.

  ‘Is your brother going to be on that ship next week?’ Frank asked.

  ‘We hope so. Why?’

  ‘They’re planning a big parade – they reckon every soldier coming back will ride in a car through the city.’ Frank wiped his face on his sleeve. ‘They asked Mr Willis next door to take his car and be part of it – so I said I’d wash and polish it.’

  ‘I’ll help,’ Jimmy said. He could just see Arthur sitting like a king in the back of Mr Willis’s Daimler, waving to the crowds. He and Frank agreed that he would go to the Willises’ house after work next Tuesday and make sure the car sparkled.

  Jimmy couldn’t wait for Arthur to arrive, and the week dragged, especially because they spent a lot of the time in the yards loading and unloading coal and coke. It was a dirty job and Jimmy went home covered in black coal dust every night. Mum would make him stand out in the backyard until she could tip a bucket of warm water over him, then he’d run inside and hop in the tin tub to scrub himself clean. He had more baths in that one week than he’d had in a year!

  At least with the regular money they were eating better. Jimmy was usually starving by the time he got home at night.

  On Tuesday evening, Jimmy and Frank cleaned and polished the Daimler from headlights to back number plate, until it gleamed. Mr Willis beamed under his big moustache. ‘You boys have done a first-class job. She looks like a brand new car.’ He offered to give Jimmy and Mum a ride to the docks at Port Melbourne, and Jimmy gratefully said yes. Otherwise they’d have to go by train and tram, and walk a fair way, too. Mum was much better, but that’d tucker her right out.

  On Wednesday, Mr Mellon allowed Jimmy to leave work early, and it was just as well. Mum took some persuading to get into the Daimler – she’d never ridden in a car before! Mr Willis had the top up as rain was forecast, and they were at the docks in no time. The ship had just berthed, and as they watched, the men on the wharf set up the gangplank.

  Jimmy didn’t know who was more nervous, but it was probably Mum. Dozens of soldiers lined the rails of the ship, and they were searching for family on the docks as desperately as those below were looking for a dear, familiar face. Ever so slowly, soldiers started to walk down the gangplank, many with bandages around their heads or arms in slings. As they were recognised by those waiting, there were shouts and cries of joy.

  ‘I can’t see him, Jimmy!’ Mum said, tears trickling down her face.

  ‘He’ll be there, Mum, don’t worry,’ Jimmy said, but he was worried now. He’d searched along the rails three times and there wasn’t a sign of Arthur. Maybe he wasn’t on this ship after all. A sigh went up through the crowd, and his gaze whipped back to the gangplank. All the soldiers who could walk on their own had disembarked – now it was the turn of those who needed help.

  Jimmy’s mouth dropped open as several soldiers with legs missing and makeshift crutches came down leaning heavily on mates or nurses dressed in white. One soldier with an arm and a leg missing was even being piggy-backed. Then came several soldiers who shuffled along, blank-faced, as if they had no idea where they were. A woman cried out and ran to one of them, hugging him, but still he seemed not to realise he was home, let alone who she was.

  Mum shuddered, her handkerchief to her mouth. ‘Oh Jimmy,’ she said, ‘this is just too awful to bear.’

  But worse was to come.

  Another soldier stood at the top of the gangplank, head down, leaning on crutches, with an enormous bandage around his head, covering one eye. His right leg was missing, his trouser leg pinned above his knee. He appeared to be stuck there, unable to move forward until a nurse came and murmured in his ear. She moved in closer and put her arm around his waist, urging him onto the gangplank, and finally he gripped the crutches and took a faltering step.

  Jimmy watched, frozen, as they inched downwards. Surely this couldn’t be . . . but it was. It was Arthur. Mum realised just after Jimmy, and rushed to the bottom to wait for him; Jimmy followed slowly, his heart bangin
g against his ribs. Where was the muscled footy player who’d marched off last year?

  As Arthur reached the dock at long last, he looked up and saw Mum waiting. She ran forward and threw her arms around him, sobbing, and Arthur was forced to stand there. Jimmy realised that if Arthur put his arms around Mum, he’d probably fall over, as the nurse had moved away to help someone else. Mr Willis was nowhere in sight, so Jimmy moved to Arthur’s good side and waited for Mum to stop crying.

  Arthur patted her on the back as best he could. ‘Mum, stop, please. We need to move out of the way.’

  Finally, Mum nodded and blew her nose. ‘I’m so glad you’re home, Arthur. I’m sorry, I just . . . ’

  ‘I know,’ was all Arthur said, but it was enough. Then he spotted Jimmy. ‘Jeez, mate, you’ve shot up like a gum tree!’

  Jimmy tried to grin. ‘I’ve been eating your share while you were gone.’

  ‘Good on you.’

  Jimmy spotted Mr Willis waiting not far away. ‘Listen, Arthur, there’s going to be a big parade. All you blokes are being driven through the city – it’s a big welcome home. Mr Willis has brought his Daimler and – ’

  ‘No.’ Arthur looked around and Mr Willis came over straightaway. ‘I know you all mean well,’ Arthur said to him, ‘but I can’t face it. And I’m not going to the hospital either. I’ve had enough of all that. I just want to get home, and I reckon a lot of the others will feel the same.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Mr Willis said. ‘You’re the heroes – what you say goes.’

  Arthur laughed bitterly. ‘Heroes? No bloody way.’

  Mr Willis pursed his mouth but he didn’t reply. He led the way to his car and they drove back to Yarraville in silence. He helped Arthur out of the car and said, ‘If you need anything at all, just let me know. I mean it.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Arthur said, and hobbled inside without another word.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Mum said. ‘I’m sorry you missed the parade.’

  Mr Willis pulled out a hanky and wiped his forehead before putting his hat back on. ‘That’s all right. I didn’t realise how bad they’d be, so many of them. It was a bit of a shock.’

  Not half as much as it was for us, Jimmy thought. He followed Mum inside and found Arthur sitting on his bed, his face ghostly white and sweaty.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on for a cup of tea,’ Mum said. ‘I’ve made a cake, too. Your favourite, Arthur, apple cake with custard.’

  Jimmy knew Mum had made it with suet instead of butter, and the last of the wormy apples from their tree, but it still smelled good.

  ‘I’d love a decent cup of tea, Mum,’ Arthur said, finally showing a bit of enthusiasm.

  Jimmy didn’t know how to get his brother up on his crutches again, but the promise of tea and cake got Arthur moving, awkwardly and with a couple of groans of pain. He made it as far as a kitchen chair before collapsing again with a big thump. He had to grab the table to stay upright.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, grimacing. ‘Didn’t get much chance to practise with these useless things on the ship.’

  Mum poured the tea and sat opposite Arthur, examining him closely. ‘Will your head wound need dressing?’

  ‘It’s not my head, Mum,’ Arthur said roughly. ‘It’s my eye. It’s gone, like my bloody leg.’

  Mum paled and pressed her lips together, then she said, ‘But you’re home, son, and you’re alive, and that’s all I care about.’

  ‘I’m no good to anyone like this,’ Arthur barked. ‘I might as well be dead.’

  ‘Don’t you dare say that!’ Tears brimmed in Mum’s eyes again, but she blinked them back and began cutting the apple cake. She put a big slice in a bowl for Arthur and poured the custard over the top. ‘There you go. Jimmy, how about a piece for you? You boys did a lovely job on Mr Willis’s car.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ Jimmy said quietly. He ate his cake and custard but each mouthful seemed to stick in his throat and it took several swallows and two cups of tea to make it go down. Every now and then he sneaked a glance at Arthur, who seemed to be having just as much trouble eating his own cake. He’d lost so much weight that his face looked sunken in.

  Jimmy had been looking forward to Arthur coming home for so long, and now it was nothing like he imagined. Arthur wasn’t the same person who’d gone marching off, hat at a jaunty angle, face shining with pride. This Arthur was bitter and angry. He’d left all his pride at Gallipoli.

  Supper was quiet that night. Arthur had agreed to move into the front room, and seemed grateful for the opportunity to get out of his uniform and into the normal clothes he’d left behind. Mum had washed and ironed everything, patched and mended where necessary, and used some of their not-really-spare money to buy Arthur new socks and underpants.

  Jimmy fed the chooks while Mum made soup, and then helped her with the dishes. Arthur had gone off to his room as soon as he’d finished eating, and when Mum went to look in on him, she came back and said he was fast asleep. ‘It’s not going to be easy for him,’ she sighed.

  Jimmy voiced what had been ringing in his head all evening. ‘Arthur’s right, Mum. How’s he going to get a job like that?’

  Mum had no answer for him. Jimmy went to bed early – it was hard to make himself get up so early in the freezing mornings, let alone if he hadn’t had enough sleep. When he woke, it was pitch-black and he couldn’t see the clock, then he realised what had woken him. Someone was shouting at the top of his voice. Who was making that racket?

  Jimmy jumped out of bed, felt his way to the door and opened it to find Mum rushing past with a flickering candle. He followed her into Arthur’s room. On the bed, Arthur writhed and thrashed, his good leg twisted in the sheet. ‘No, no!’ he shouted. ‘They’re firing again! Duck! Get in the trench!’

  Mum put down the candle and knelt next to the bed, trying to soothe Arthur or wake him, but he flung out an arm. ‘Get ’em off me. There’s maggots in my shirt. Get that dead Turk out of here. Fix bayonets! Charge!’

  Mum fell backwards onto the floor and Jimmy rushed to help her up. ‘You’ll have to help me,’ she said. ‘Hold his arm while I try to wake him.’

  Arthur had always been much stronger than Jimmy, but Jimmy’s work in the yards had made a big difference. He was actually getting muscles like Frank. All the same, he was astonished at how thin Arthur was now, and how easy it was to hold him down. Mum ended up slapping Arthur gently on his hand and saying sharply, ‘Arthur! Wake up! You’re home now. Wake up!’

  Finally Arthur’s eyes opened and he blinked, dazed. ‘Mum? Am I really home?’ But when Mum tried to comfort him, he pushed her away. ‘Leave me alone.’

  Arthur huddled in his bed and cried great ragged sobs, as if his whole world had crashed down on him, and it had. His shoulders heaved and Jimmy listened helplessly, feeling as though he was being torn apart inside. Arthur was so changed that it was hard to remember what he’d been like before.

  Mum seemed to understand, and she took Jimmy back to his room. ‘We’ll have to be patient with him,’ she said, ‘and give him time to heal, inside and out.’

  ‘How much time?’ Jimmy asked. ‘What if he’s always like this?’

  ‘We have to believe he’ll get better,’ Mum said. ‘Then maybe he will, too.’

  Jimmy went back to bed but he got little sleep for the rest of the night. Although Arthur didn’t shout and scream again, he did mutter and groan on and off, and when Jimmy got up for work in the early dawn, he thought his eyes might drop out of his head. Down at the yards, Bert was in a bad mood and shouted at the boys every five minutes.

  ‘You lot, stop gossiping like old women! We’ve got ten wagons of superphosphate to load this morning!’

  Jimmy hated loading the heavy bags of fertiliser. It stunk, and if a bag had even a small hole in it, the stuff spilled out and made him sneeze. By lunchtime, they still had four wagons to go and Bert made them work through until they were done. That was when Jimmy realised that he’d come without anythin
g to eat, and he was too tired to walk home for a sandwich.

  ‘Where’s your lunch?’ Frank asked. Without waiting for an answer, he handed Jimmy half of his huge doorstop sandwich. The thick slices were a bit stale but the bacon and egg inside were like food from heaven.

  ‘Mmm, thanks, mate,’ Jimmy said, his mouth full.

  Frank worked on his own sandwich for a few minutes, frowning and staring off into the distance before he finally asked, ‘So, how’s your brother?’

  Jimmy shook his head. ‘Not good. He kept us up all night with terrible dreams and shouting, and he acts like he doesn’t even want to be home.’

  ‘Mum said when the soldiers came back from the Boer War, they took ages to get used to being home again.’ Frank sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. ‘Her brother never really came right again.’

  ‘He didn’t have any bits missing, though, did he?’

  ‘No, but he never got married. Said he wouldn’t want any girl stupid enough to have him.’

  ‘So what happened to him?’ Jimmy finished the sandwich and wished he had another.

  ‘He went off into the outback somewhere to look for gold. Mum hasn’t heard from him for years.’

  ‘Oy, you two!’ Bert was shouting from the end of the platform at the station, waving them over. They ran over to see what he wanted, and he gave them two big brooms. ‘Give the platforms a good sweep. People are complaining that the fertiliser has been blowing this way from the wagons.’

  Once they’d finished that job, Bert let them stop for the day. ‘Hop over and see Mr Mellon. He’ll give you your pay.’

  ‘But it’s only Friday,’ Frank said. ‘We usually get paid on Saturday.’

  ‘No work for you tomorrow,’ Bert said. ‘Come back Monday.’