Brave Company by David Hill Page B

while they climbed down the ladder to the mess room afterwards, and said, ‘Glad I had you to hang onto back there, young Russ. Stopped me from jumping overboard and swimming all the way back to New Zealand.’
    Russell had managed a half-grin. But he knew everything had changed. He wasn’t the person he’d thought he was.

    They’d steamed quickly away from the estuary of the River Han, coastline shrinking behind them. Russell stood by the rail for a few minutes, staring at the land as it became just a dark smudge. The Koreans can keep it, he thought. Let the North and South fight their stupid war themselves, and we can all go home.
    He didn’t mind the frigate’s pitching and swaying as it butted into the heavy swells, or the spray that swept the deck each time water broke over the bows. Just so long as they kept heading away from the place where he’d been shamed.
    After an hour or so, a voice crackled over the intercom. ‘This is your captain speaking. I want to congratulate all ranks on the way you behaved back there. It was a tricky spot, and you can all feel proud of how you handled yourselves under fire. Now we can keep on doing our job.’
    Russell stared at the deck. The captain’s announcement had made him feel like a cheat. He felt sure that sooner or later he’d be found out for what he really was.

    The next day was grey and bleak. The air felt freezing when Russell breathed it in. The cold pierced his heavy jersey and duffle-coat. The swells had dropped, and
Taupo
butted through a dark, unfriendly sea.
    Russell was halfway into his spell as stern lookout, the ship’s wake spreading in a foaming fan behind him, when Commander Yates appeared. The 2-i-c returned Russell’s salute.
    ‘An interesting morning yesterday, young Purchas.’
    ‘Sir.’ Russell’s stomach went heavy. He’d been seen, all right. Everyone knew he was a coward.
    Commander Yates watched him for a moment. ‘You’ll be all right now.’
    Russell didn’t know what to say. The officer wenton. ‘Nothing wrong with feeling scared sometimes. Even brave men like your uncle have – had – their times of being afraid. You did all right, Boy Seaman. I mean that.’
    Russell saluted again as the 2-i-c moved off. Yes, he’d been seen, and people knew. In spite of that, he felt a fraction better. But he wondered what people would say if he told them the truth about that so-called brave man, his Uncle Trevor.
    When his time on lookout was over, he was sent to start scraping rust from the davits where the cutter hung. ‘That’s the idea, lad,’ PO Lucas told him as he passed. ‘If I see it shine, then everything’s fine. If it’s not clean, then I’ll get mean. A bit of navy poetry for you.’
    After quarter of an hour, another duffle-coated figure appeared, limping along the deck. It was AB Buchanan, the young sailor who’d hurt his leg when he was supposed to be on the supply party. Buchanan said nothing when Russell greeted him, just began scraping at another davit.
    If he’s in a foul mood, that’s his bad luck, Russell decided. They worked in silence for ten minutes. Then Buchanan said, ‘Where were you when they started shooting at us?’
    He knows about me, too, Russell thought. ‘On deck,’ he said. ‘We’d been in the four-inch turret.’
    Buchanan just nodded. ‘I was in the mess room. Didn’t know what it was at first. Wish I’d been on gun duty. We’d have given those commies more than they expected!’
    Russell felt anger began to glow inside him. He’d talked like that, too, before he’d faced any real danger. This bloke didn’t know what he was on about.
    He took a breath. ‘You can’t—’
    Then the intercom interrupted him. ‘Attention, all hands. This is Commander Yates speaking. We’ll be heading back in to the coast tonight. There’s a landing party of South Korean troops going ashore, and we’ll be making sure they have a nice safe ride. More orders later. Carry on.’
    ‘Koreans!’