Soldier's Game (7 page)

The clock stands in a traffic island at the busy junction outside Haymarket railway station. It has a double-sided face and is set within a large stone memorial, weathered and blackened with exhaust fumes. Each day commuters stream by on their way to and from their trains. To most it’s all but invisible amid the surrounding buildings, the signs and traffic lights, the rush of cars and buses. Bolted into the stone on one side of the monument is a bronze plaque that reads:

Ross must have ridden past it dozens of times in the car without taking any notice. The afternoon he and Pat walked down to Haymarket they found the stone scrawled with spray paint. Scour marks showed where the council regularly cleaned off the graffiti.

Pat had brought along an old pamphlet that said the monument had been erected in 1922, four years after the war ended. An estimated 40,000 people had crowded into Haymarket on the day it was dedicated, along with pipe bands and ministers and politicians. Sir George McCrae himself had been present on the platform along with some of the few remaining survivors of the original Hearts Battalion.

Big Sandy Yule was there, having recovered from his wounds, as was Alfie Briggs who, like Jack, would never play football again. Among other former Hearts players present were Annan Ness and Jamie Low as well as Pat Crossan, who did make the return to Tynecastle. The “handsomest man in the world” started again as winger in the first home match of the 1919 peacetime season, defeating Queens Park. A few years later he would marry Alice Wattie after what he called “the longest engagement in Scottish history”. Alice’s brother and Pat’s best pal would not make the
ceremony. Harry Wattie died on the first day’s fighting at the Somme.

Also present at the ceremony was Albert Ripley, who managed to survive the war despite being wounded twice and later gassed at Roeux. He and Jack Jordan remained lifelong friends. And, of course, Jack was there too among the crowd. By then he’d already met Ross’s great-grandmother and they were engaged. A year later Sir George would help him get a position at the Royal Bank of Scotland where he worked until his retirement in 1958, having risen to the position of senior manager.

Over the years Jack rarely spoke of the war and his fallen friends – though he did write each and every Christmas to Hugh Wilson’s sister Emily. What Pat knew of her father’s story had come from books and what her mother had told her the year after Jack died from cancer in 1960.

For weeks the story of Jack Jordan and the 16th Royal Scots haunted Ross. To think of the immediate world around him – streets, houses, tenements – overlain with time like one of those kid’s books with
clear plastic pages. Lives all but vanished: hopes, dreams, sorrow, pain.

One night he lay awake in bed thinking about something Pat said. Ross had asked her why people build monuments.

“Isn’t it better just to forget?” he said.

“We can’t ever forget,” she’d replied.

“Why not?”

Pat had stood there by the clock clutching the yellowed pamphlet.

“Well, the way I look at it is – the dead can only be dead. Nothing else is left to them. The least we can do is to try and make sense of what’s happened in the past, hold on to what it meant to those soldiers and their families – even if just by reading a name on a bronze plaque.”

It was this that gave Ross the idea. The very next evening he phoned Pat and they talked it over. She wrote the letter and in the end it was an archivist from Heart of Midlothian FC who got back in touch.

One day a few weeks later Pat met Ross after school
and they took a cab to Tynecastle. The archivist – a Mr Kemp – met them in reception at the club administration building and took them into a meeting room. He was a small portly man, a good six inches shorter than Pat, with balding hair and thick black glasses. Ross laid Jack’s box onto the table.

“May I?” said Mr Kemp.

Ross nodded and the archivist reached for the latch. His eyes widened when he opened the lid. He lifted the boots carefully out of the box.

“These have been well looked after. Top quality for the time.”

Mr Kemp grew more excited when he found the maroon jersey, and the shorts and socks – a full kit. But it was the medal and Jack’s photograph that he looked at the longest before removing his glasses.

“And you say he never played football again.”

“No. Just a loyal supporter after the war,” Pat replied.

Mr Kemp shook his head.

“Well, all I can say is the club would be honoured to have these objects in our collection – especially with the upcoming centennial of the Great War.”

In the cab on the way home Ross began to wonder if he’d made a mistake giving up Jack’s things. Pat seemed almost to read his thoughts. She laid a hand on his knee.

“Why not stop in for a quick cup of hot chocolate and then I’ll walk you home.”

Sitting later at her kitchen table Ross sighed.

“Do you think it’s possible to miss someone you never knew?”

Pat smiled.

“But you do know Jack – or all that’s left to know. And he knew you.”

“How could he know me?” asked Ross.

Pat replied, “Well, it’s obvious he cherished the items in that box. Why else would he have packed them away so carefully? And he must have trusted that someone would come along who’d recognise their worth.”

Ross looked confused. She reached out and touched his hand.

“That was you. And I know for certain that he would have been proud to see his old kit on display at Tynecastle. To remind people just what was sacrificed by all those young men. You made that
happen.”

Ross felt better about his decision after that. And for the next few weeks he went to bed each night hoping to see Jack again in his dreams, to play once more with him at Tynecastle, to score that perfect goal. But dreams are rarely a matter of will. Nor does true life play out like tales in books. Brave soldiers don’t prevail, they mostly suffer or die for no good reason, bad luck or an undone shoelace or some lines on a map.

A few good things did happen in the coming weeks. Somehow Ross managed to “find his feet” as Pat had predicted and no longer tripped over thin air. Indeed, the whole team seemed to up their game towards the end of the season and began to win a few matches. By June, Bruntsfield was progressing up the league. All the whispering about Barry ended and more parents began to turn up for matches. Even Pat appeared at the pitch one Saturday afternoon.

It was a quarter-final match against Clermiston. The Bruntsfield team was down by two goals near the end of the first half. But in the final minute
Calum Mitchell managed to score a header. Barry gathered the team together at half-time.

“Tough defending out there and passing looks good, but you forwards need to take some digs. You’ve got nothing to lose – remember we’re just happy to be here.”

Going back out onto the pitch Ross noticed a group of S1s had come along to watch, including Craig Muir. He stood near the far goal with his arms folded, looking as large and menacing as ever. Ross had said nothing to his parents about the punch and he hoped Muir appreciated the trouble he’d been saved.

The second-half whistle blew and Ross forgot Muir and everything else in the sudden rush of play. Bruntsfield threatened over a dozen times in the next twenty minutes but just couldn’t put the ball in the net. Only five minutes remained in the match when Calum sent a cross from the right wing, which the Clermiston goalie just managed to deflect over the crossbar. It was a corner. Calum lined up for the kick but couldn’t see an opening so he motioned Ross back.

With a bit of jostling Ross managed to elude his defender. He took the pass off his right heel and with
a quick touch set himself up for the shot. The ball rocketed off his foot, bending between two defenders and past the outstretched gloves of the keeper. It glanced off the far post and into the net – the sweetest shot Ross had ever kicked. A roar went up from the pitch. Even loud-mouth Bob Nelson looked stunned.

The final whistle blew and the game ended at two-all with a penalty shoot-out. Ying looked white-faced and grim.

“I think I might vomit,” he said.

Barry pulled him aside.

“Remember, a penalty shoot-out is no-lose situation for a goalie,” he said. “All the pressure is on the shooters.”

But Ying looked no more reassured.

Bruntsfield won the toss and Ross was first up to shoot. He made it in with an easy chip. After five more shots, the score was three-all. Calum Mitchell lined up for his turn but scooped the ball high over the crossbar. All the Clermiston players mobbed their goalie as though the match was already won.

Ying lined up for the next shot, looking pale but surprisingly determined – waving his arms to distract the Clermiston player. The shooter faked left but was slow in changing direction. Ying read it perfectly and
easily deflected the ball.

On the next shot Rory Burn made it five-four to Bruntsfield. The pressure was again on Ying.

The next Clermiston shooter came forward – a large red-haired boy who took so long positioning the ball the referee had to hurry him up. The player then took one step and drilled the shot hard but straight. It hit Ying square in the middle and he looked down in disbelief to find the ball tucked in his arms.

A wild cheer erupted from the sidelines and Ross and the rest of the team rushed forward and hoisted Ying onto their shoulders. Over on the far end the S1 boys punched the air in triumph. Ross caught sight of Muir who gave him a sly thumbs-up, and it was good to see the guy could forget he was a creep, even if just for a moment.

The Bruntsfield P7s would later be knocked out in the semi-finals but that day they were winners. Barry invited all the players and parents back to his house for a barbeque. He set up an old stereo turntable in the garden and played scratchy jazz records. They ate sausages and hamburgers and later, much to the players’ horror, a few of the parents even felt inspired to dance.

In the evening when Pat walked Ross home again
she put an arm around his shoulder.

“That was some goal,” she said. “You should listen more to your granny.”

Another good thing happened a few days later. A letter awaited Ross one afternoon when he arrived home from school. On the envelope was the official Hearts crest. Ross tore it open and inside were two tickets to the season opener – Hearts v Dundee United. There was also a compliments slip with a mysterious note from Mr Kemp: “Look out for a surprise.”

The Saturday arrived and Ross of course invited Pat to go with him to the match. The seats were possibly the best in the stadium – midfield, halfway up the stand. They sat down and got settled just as the Hearts players ran out onto the pitch for their warm-up.

Ross was studying his programme when he heard Pat exclaim, “Oh my word!”

He looked up to see her staring in astonishment, and followed her gaze across the pitch. Among the huge posters of famous past Hearts players that
decorated the far stand – Tommy Walker, John Cumming, Drew Busby, Steven Pressley – was a new one. Twenty feet high, arms folded and beaming with that same confident grin, stood Jack Jordan, towering over the crowd, eighteen years old and forever fresh with promise.

Ross, Jack Jordan, his family and some of the characters in this book – including Hugh Wilson and Albert Ripley – are fictional, but the story of the 16th Royal Scots “Hearts Battalion” is a true one. The events are based on real accounts though some particular details have been altered and invented for reasons of plot. But I have attempted to remain true to the story and the period.

This book owes much to the excellent history of the “Hearts Battalion” by Jack Alexander:
McCrae’s Battalion: The Story of the 16th Royal Scots
(Mainstream Publishing, 2004). It is a fascinating and painstakingly researched though readable book packed with detail and I thoroughly recommend it to anyone interested in the history of the 16th Royal Scots and World War I.

I would like to thank David Speed, club historian at the Heart of Midlothian, and Craig Murray of the
Imperial War Museum who both made comments on the manuscript, though any deviations from historical fact – intentional or not – are entirely my own. I would also like to thank Jim Wilson for his help with football terminology and Alan “Let’s make some noise” Duffy for his generous introduction to Tynecastle.

Thanks also to my editor at Floris Books, Sally Polson, and my wife Ann – both of whom made many helpful suggestions on the manuscript.

Finally, I would like to acknowledge the 2008 Bruntsfield P7 girls football team – players and parents – who gave an untutored American an insight into the game and many hours of excitement and enjoyment.

• The Great War – or World War I as it came to be known – began in August 1914 when Germany invaded France and Belgium, drawing Britain into the Europe-wide conflict.
  
• Over 65 million soldiers fought in the war, an estimated 21 million men were injured and 8.5 million died, significantly more than the entire population of Scotland today.
  
• Officers were killed in greater proportions than regular soldiers as they carried revolvers rather than rifles and were easy to spot by the enemy.
  
• The youngest casualty of WW1 is thought to be Private John Condon of the 2nd Royal Irish Regiment who was just fourteen when he was
  reported missing, presumed dead on 24 May 1915.
  
• Much of the conflict was fought in a bloody stalemate along a twisting 472-mile line known as the Western Front, which stretched from the English Channel to the Swiss frontier.
  
• Among the major battles fought along the Western Front was that of the Somme, which began on 1 July 1916 and lasted until that November.
  
• America entered the war in 1917, which helped to break the stalemate in favour of the Allies. The war came to an end at 11 am on the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918.
  
• The Great War was also known in later years as the War to End All Wars. Sadly this would not be the case when, just 21 years later, the Nazi leader Adolf Hitler sent German forces into Poland, sparking World War II.
  
• Among new weapons introduced or used widely for the first time in World War I were the machine-gun, the tank, poison gas, U-boats, and aeroplanes and Zeppelins for aerial bombardment.
  
• On 2 April 1916, two German Zeppelins sailed across the North Sea and dropped bombs on Leith and central Edinburgh, causing several deaths, with one bomb hitting the Castle rock.
  
• Hundreds of memorials were commissioned across Britain to commemorate the men who died in The Great War, from simple plaques in churches, to stone monuments such as the Hearts Memorial, to the grand Cenotaph in London.
  
• Fields of red Flanders poppies grew along the Western Front after the war, inspiring the British Legion to sell paper poppies to raise funds for wounded soldiers, as it still does today.
  
• More than a million British women went to work in munitions factories during WWI. Emboldened by this contribution to the war effort, they demanded and won limited voting rights in 1918, with full rights granted in 1928 for all adults over 21.
  

• On the first day of battle at the Somme the British army suffered its worst one-day combat loss in history with 19,240 soldiers dead, 35,493 wounded and 2,152 missing.
  
• The Somme was also the first time the tank was used in battle.
  
• British “sappers” – many of them miners back home – dug deep tunnels under the German lines to plant huge explosive mines. Sometimes in digging they broke through into enemy tunnels and had to engage German sappers in hand-to-hand combat underground.
  
• By the end of the Somme offensive, British and French troops had penetrated no more than six miles into occupied German territory.
  
• On 7 October 1916, a German soldier from the 6th Bavarian Reserves was wounded at the Somme. His name was Adolf Hitler.
  

• Heart of Midlothian football club was founded in Edinburgh around 1874 and first played in East Meadows Park, with players changing in the upstairs room of a local tavern.
  
• The club began wearing its characteristic maroon in 1877 and moved to the present site of Tynecastle stadium in 1886.
  
• Under the leadership of manager John McCartney,
  Hearts fielded one the best squads in the club’s history in 1914 when war broke out.
  
• Military training took its toil and, though heavily favoured to be League Champions, the club lost out to Celtic by only four points in the 1914–15 season.
  
• Three Hearts players and uncounted fans lost their lives in that first day of fighting at the Somme, including Harry Wattie, Ernie Ellis and Duncan Currie.
  
• In 1922 supporters and friends of Heart of Midlothian erected a memorial to the singular sacrifice of the football club in the First World War. In 2009 the clock tower was temporarily moved from its place at Haymarket junction and put into storage to make way for the Edinburgh tram works.