Postcards From The Front

Nursted – away – lost

This week instead of the usual match report we will print an exert from a letter home from one of our fallen comrades:

This was do-or-die. After our initial surge forward in May our campaign faltered and we had been beaten back somewhat in recent weeks. Dark clouds gathered over the staging area before, grim faced and determined, we climbed aboard the Yank Tank and ABW (armored Buss wagon) and set off for the big push up the hill.

First encounter with the enemy was at 13 hundred hours when a loan trouper was seen crossing the field at Nash Street. We set about readying ourselves for the upcoming battle.

Disaster – Captain Ward accidentally set off a chemical weapon and gassed half the company. Despite this setback he led the way and with Private Brewer laid waste around them. Private Brewer’s snipper skills came to the fore as he picked off 30 without being troubled too much. Eventually though he slipped up and was caught by a dastardly cur and for him the war was over.

Private Fenning tried to repeat his recent heroics but failed and even though there was some early promise.

Lieutenant Fennell’s clash was short and vicious. Early on he launched a huge bomb and followed up with a set of rockets that scattered the enemy to all parts of the field. However, he took one in the hand and it was only a matter of time before he too was dispatched.

Sergeant Buss was looking good and had accounted for 23 when he tried to go over the top but was caught on the wire in no-mans land.

Gunners Mate Wee Stevie Oakley brought the big gun with him but the damn thing seemed to misfire.

Private Butler had to hang around a while before he could get into the action and copped one on his very first encounter.

Private Meredith lied about his age on the draft but the young lad was terribly keen to show his mettle. Truth be told we were glad to have him with us. In the face of the aggressors he advanced and with great courage and dispatched them in a series of truly inspired shots. Alas, he too fell before his time.

The others in our little band of brothers tried but failed to halt the onslaught.

After a couple of hours the retreat was sounded and we regrouped to scoff some grub and slurp a cup of tea. Never has a simple scone tasted so good. But this was only a brief respite and the hostilities soon resumed. We encircled the enemy and had at them. Wave after wave of attacks rained down on them in an effort to break their spirits.

Privates Meredith and Butler opened up with a mixture of ferocity and accuracy that pinned them down and surely it was only a matter of time before one of them perished. However, such was the heat on that fateful day that both men had to break off engagement early than usual.

Sergeant Buss was first to strike and with great accuracy he pinged one into his victim’s legs and with a loud cheer the celebrations began.

Corporal Kingsnorth was next to “hav a go” but his attack was easily repelled and he suffered heavy losses without success.

Bombardier Harvey took up the baton and lobbed some high explosives at the opposition captain who had to dig in in the face of such an onslaught. Eventually, he had his man though and the wile old campaigner had another scalp.

Unfortunately, they had a young warrior who seemed to be able to fire at will and was decimating our attack. We were in trouble.

Sensing this, Captain Ward took upon himself to get us out of the mess. Success, he dispatched two adversaries in quick fashion.

By this stage though, the battle was beginning to take it’s toll. Private Butler was out on his feet and unable to take any further part in our struggle.

Private Brewer was left motionless in the field when a sniper in the trees mowed him down as he ran for cover. It would have been a kindness just to put him out of his misery as he lay there.

Private Meredith was seen making a dash toward a group of enemy vehicles in the far corner of the battlefield only to pull up short with a wounded back. The brave lad went on to try a second assault on the opposition but sadly all the fight had gone out of him.

Private Maylan was patrolling on the boundary when all of a sudden he too went down. Got it in both legs poor blighter.

Bombardier Harvey seemed to have a complete breakdown when faced with the horror of the whole thing. This resulted in a series of inexplicable events that left him sprawling on the ground. Comical if you didn’t feel for the big man.

After some R&R by the long grass Sergeant Buss was sent back to the front again and with renewed vigor, he took out their next two.

Inspired by this, Private Butler got in on the action and aided by Fennell removed one more. But it was all too little too late. After many hours the battle ended as quickly as it started. Broken bodies littered the field. Out of the smoke and mist 22 bloodied and bruised souls trooped away to drink beer, write poetry and generally try to make sense of the whole thing.

Missing or wounded in action:
Pte N Maylan – both legs
Pte S Brewer – both legs
Pte H Meredith – back
Pte J Butler – everything
Lieut R Fennell – hand
Cpl G Kingsnorth – pretty much nothing left
Sgt S Buss – patience
Bdr N Harvey – reflexes shot to pieces

Analysis of the battle described in this letter shows that it was a more even affair than depicted. Both sides scored the same number of runs in the same number of overs. The only difference was that we didn’t have the batting to use up all our overs. An extra 20 or 30 runs would have been enough to see us home.

Moment of the match
After many years in the bowling wilderness, it was good to see Nick take the ball and “turn his arm over”. Despite the lay off he proved he still had it when he served up a delivery that drifted on the breeze like a dandelion seed and then as it pitched at the feet of the onrushing batsman turned into a cobra, bit, spat and leapt away from him to crash into the off stump. Bowling Wardie.

Aside – while fielding at mid off a puffing and slightly wheezing Ward trotted past muttering to himself – “Shit, I’m the fittest man on the pitch”

Man of the match
No contest here. Despite not actually being present at the game itself, it has to be the medical type who has the job of putting our decrepit team back together again. I don’t envy him that job.