Darkest Hour Read Online Free PDF Page A

bisected by the road leading to Manston village. As he
led Tanner to the far side, where the watch office stood, he said, 'I hope you
don't mind me saying this, but I couldn't help noticing that you looked rather
taken aback by the way the sergeant-major lounged in that armchair.'
    'I suppose I was a bit, sir.'
    'He's certainly very chummy with the OC. I don't have
a yardstick by which to judge these things - as you've probably guessed, I'm
new to the Army - but I can see it's perhaps not the normal way of things.'
    'I suppose that's between him and the OC, sir.'
    Peploe looked thoughtful. 'I also got the impression
you don't much like CSM Blackstone.'
    Tanner grinned ruefully. 'I'm afraid he wasn't my
favourite person out in India.'
    'He's very popular here. The lads seem to think the
world of him. So does the OC. To be honest, Blackstone is absolutely his
right-hand man. I suppose it's because he's such an old hand - but he's a
strong character too. Rather clever, in his way.'
    'Oh, he's that, all right,' said Tanner.
    Peploe laughed. 'So speaks a man who knows. Well, in
any case, I'm certain experience must be the best kind of training. It's why
I'm delighted you've joined the platoon.'
    'You're right about experience, sir,' replied Tanner.
'You can be the best soldier in training but until you've been under fire you
haven't been tested.'
    'I'm sure you have much to teach me, Sergeant Tanner.
I was at university before the war, and come from a farming family with no
military background whatsoever, so being a soldier is still very much a
novelty to me.'
    'Your father wasn't in the last war, then, sir?'
    'No - he stayed on the farm. So did my uncle.'
    'Well, there's not much to it, really. I'll bet you
know how to use a rifle, sir.'
    'I know how to use one, Sergeant. To a farmer's son, shooting is part of the growing-up process. I
wouldn't say I'm an especially good shot, although it's certainly not for want
of practice. And what about you?' he asked, pointing to the embroidered badge
on the forearm of Tanner's battle-blouse - two crossed rifles crested by a
crown and ringed with leaves. 'Forgive my ignorance, but I'm guessing that's a
marksman's badge of some kind.'
    Tanner smiled. 'The Army likes badges, sir.'
    'But it is a marksman's badge?'
    'Skill in Shooting, sir. But it doesn't mean much.'
    'Where did you learn to shoot? With the Army?'
    'Like you, sir, I grew up with it.'
    'A farmer too?'
    'Not as such. My father was a gamekeeper.'
    Peploe nodded - that explains it - then said, 'But not in Yorkshire, I take it. Somewhere down south, guessing
from your accent.'
    'South Wiltshire, sir, A while ago now. I joined up as
a boy.'
    Peploe adjusted his cap. 'Forgive me, Sergeant, all
these questions. I'm a nosy sod, aren't I?'
    They had almost reached the far side of the airfield.
A number of Defiants were lined up in front of the watch office, their
ground-crew tinkering with them. In one, a man was testing the hydraulics of
the gun turret, swivelling through three hundred and sixty degrees, the
electronics whirring.
    'I'm sorry to bring up CSM Blackstone again,' said
Peploe, as they paused by the watch office, 'but I hope whatever argument you
have with him won't be a problem for the platoon - or the company, for that
matter.'
    A warning, albeit gently made, but still Tanner felt
his heart sink. Damn, damn. Blackstone had
already caused him to get off on the wrong foot with this new posting. 'It
won't be, sir. It's true I don't like the man, but I won't let that get in the
way of anything.'
    Peploe nodded. 'Good.' He smiled at Tanner again. 'You
know, Sergeant, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.'
    Good. Tanner relaxed a little. He felt rather the same. Just so long as Blackstone doesn't get in the way. But,
by God, he was going to have to watch his step.
    Inside the hut it was warm and still, the sun pouring
through the windows and capturing a million tiny dust particles disturbed by
the arrival of the men.