His heart thumped with excitement. Tough luck for that young sailor, but now he had his chance. ‘Look lively, Boy Seaman,’ grunted PO Lucas as Russell arrived panting on deck. The cutter was ready for lowering again and he scrambled into it, pack slung over one shoulder. ‘Lower away,’ called the petty officer. As the cables hummed, and the boat sank down, he glared at Russell. ‘Be sensible, lad. Just do what you’re told.’ ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ The cutter smacked into the water, and they headed for the wharves where the rest of the supply party stood waiting. ‘Toss your pack up,’ called the bearded Red Watch PO. One of the cutter’s seamen swung it onto the wharf, while Russell shinnied up a rope ladder. ‘Purchas, isn’t it?’ the petty officer asked. ‘I’m PO Ralston. Let’s be having you; truck’s over there.’ Noel winked at Russell as the supply party headed towards an old lorry with Korean letters on the door about twenty yards away. Four or five of them carried rifles.
