Eyes Front

Bring me the sunflower and I'll transplant
It in my garden's burnt salinity.
All day its heliocentric gold face
Will turn towards the blue of sky and sea.

Jeremy Reed.

The inflexible routine for pre-war Saturday mornings on the north west frontier of India was barrack inspection. All hands would be mustered on the Friday evening and the already brilliant stones outside barrack blocks would receive yet another coat of whitewash. The grass would be cut by Indian gardeners wielding large metal rods like golf clubs but with a sharp cutting edge at the base. Other native workers would busy themselves removing sticks, stones and rubbish which had accumulated over the week.
Early on the Saturday morning, everyone would be out of bed at the first sound of the bugle putting finishing touches to their company areas.
Lieutenant 'Olly' Evans had recently joined the 1st Battalion South Wales Borderers and he found himself in charge of his company one Saturday morning when his company commander was otherwise engaged. Accompanied by the Company Sergeant Major, he carried out a preliminary inspection of the outside area and was about to congratulate the warrant officer on the immaculate state of the lines when an Indian gardener went past pushing a wheel barrow full of flowers. A few seconds later, eager hands of soldiers, from another company in an adjacent block, removed the flowers and placed them in prepared beds, while the Indian trundled off with his barrow for another load.
The transformation of the dry and dusty mound of earth next door into a colourful garden was as good a conjuring trick as Olly and the Sergeant Major had seen since they had been on the frontier; both realised they had some catching up to do.
After a few seconds thought, Olly gave instructions for a party of men to proceed to the dhobi lines and each collect an armful of sunflowers. The dhobi lines was the place where washing of soldiers' clothes was carried out by the contractor's staff. The abundance of water made it an ideal place for sunflowers to grow.
The men descended on the washing area with picks and shovels but they found digging out the massive plants was a hard job as the roots went so deep. "Cut them off at ground level," ordered the sergeant major. Machetes were unsheathed and the men scythed through the sunflowers until each one had a full load.
With less than fifteen minutes to go before the commanding officer arrived, Olly and the CSM supervised the erection of the sunflowers. Each one was about eight feet high and when they had been jammed into the earth they presented a solid wall of bright yellow blooms.
The Commanding Officer, Adjutant, Regimental Sergeant Major, Provost Sergeant, stick orderly and CO's bugler came into sight right on time and the giant display of sunflowers made the Colonel stop in his tracks. "Good heavens," he exclaimed. "What a remarkable sight. Well done, Olly, you've certainly brightened the place up, but I don't remember seeing those flowers last week." Olly accepted the compliment with a humble shrug and mumbled something about the blooms shooting up after they received a load of manure from the mule lines.
The CO went on to inspect the barrack rooms, but he seemed to have a far away look in his eyes. When he had completed the inspection, he went back to have another look at the garden. He walked up and down the phalanx of flowers and then bellowed: "There's something wrong with these plants!" Olly's mouth went as dry as the earth had been only half an hour before, and he squeaked: "Oh, what's that, sir?" The Colonel caught hold of the stem of the largest flower and with a sharp tug, pulled it out of the ground. He surveyed the rootless but pointed end of the stalk: "Just as I thought," he said, holding it in such a way that Olly thought he was going to be pinned to the wall. "Sunflowers always face the sun, and yours are pointing in all directions."