1914 (British Ace) (15 page)

I was surprised. The last time I had seen them they had seemed to hate the idea of a ruling class and the British Empire and yet here they were volunteering. I had heard of these battalions in Lord Derby’s hospital.  They were a clever way of getting men to volunteer.  You fought with your workmates or friends. I had just left Flanders and they would be
heading for that charnel house. Could I sit at home while they fought?

We went down to tea. 
Everyone crowded around the tiny table, I wondered how we had managed when we all lived at home. Despite the cramped conditions it was joyous. I cannot remember us all laughing quite as much.  The subjects we did not cover were the war and my brothers. I learned all about the estate and how Lord Burscough was learning to drive.  Albert was pleased with his lordship’s progress.  I knew why- as soon as his lordship could drive it would free up Albert to join up.  I said nothing.  I could not blame the boy.  I, too, had been eager enough to serve. I was not quite as keen to return now.

Dad took me, for the first time
in my life, to the Wheatsheaf, the village pub.  I had been there, of course, but never with dad. As we strolled to the pub he told me of an Act of Parliament which would restrict the opening hours of the pubs. It was not yet law but it would be in the next month or so.

“Daft, if you ask me. Some lads who drive horses and carts call in at five in the morning for a nip to keep the cold out.  And what about those shift workers who finish after the pub has shut
?  It’s not fair.  I don’t often agree with your brothers but on this I do.  Those politicians in London won’t go short of a drink but the working lads do. It’s about time they stopped trying to make us live the way they think we ought to.”

This, in itself was unusual, dad never had political views.
“You know dad, this will be the first drink I have had since I left home.”

“I thought they all drank wine in France.”

I shrugged, “They might do but we were never near any towns.  So I shall enjoy my first pint with my dad.” I put my arm around his shoulder and noticed, for the first time, that I was now much bigger than my dad.  When I had been growing up I couldn’t wait to be the same size as my dad and it had happened without me noticing.

There was a cheer when we entered the fuggy
, smoke filled crowded pub. The smell was of tobacco, stale ale and sweaty working men. Returning soldiers were a rarity and everyone wanted to buy me a drink.  My dad slammed his hand on the bar. “It’s my son and I shall buy him his first pint.  After that we are both happy to allow you all to buy us our ale!”

I was questioned all night about the lads I had left the village with.  Each death was toasted and a silence for the trooper.  I found it quite moving. They were not forgotten and that was how it should be. I saw one of Doddy’s old neighbours, “How is Mrs Brown coping?”

He shook his head, “It’s a bloody shame.  She hears about Tiny and then five minutes later Doddy buys it.” He looked at me.  “She appreciated your letter.  I think she is keen to see you.”

At that time a respectable woman would not be seen near a pub. I would see her in the morning.  It promised to be a traumatic and trying experience.

I was a little drunk as dad helped me home.  I was not used to drinking and they had all been
desperate to buy me ale.  When we reached home I was ready for bed.  I saw a slightly disapproving look from my mother but our Sarah said, “Mum, after what he has been through I think he deserves it eh?” Mum nodded and Sarah and Alice helped me up the stairs.

There was a light under the door.  Albert was still up. When I reached the door I disentangled myself. “I think, ladies, that I can manage the next part all by myself.” They
giggled, each planted a kiss on my cheek and trotted down the stairs.

When I went in I saw Albert hurriedly stuffing the Luger back into my knapsack. It sobered me up rapidly. I was glad that I had unloaded it and taken out the magazine or there could have been a tragic accident. I shook my head as I took the knapsack from him.  “I thought better of you Bert.”

“Sorry Bill, but I just thought you might have brought back some souvenirs.  I never thought you would have a German’s gun.”

“Aye well you mind you don’t tell mother about it.  Understand?”

“I swear down.”

After I had undressed and I had turned out the light I lay in the bed feel
ing quite comfortable. Then I heard Bert’s voice, “Tell me how you got the gun, Bill.”

“In the morning, I am tired now. I promise you I will but not tonight eh?”

As I was eating my breakfast mum asked, “Well our Bill, what will you
be getting up to today?” She had noticed that I was wearing my uniform and I could see a worried look on her face.  We were alone in the cottage.  The rest were all at church.  Albert had woken me so that I could tell him how I got the pistol and then I fell back asleep to rid myself of the hangover. Mum had waited for me and she would go to the services at Evensong.

I put down my knife and fork.  “I have to go and see Mrs Brown.  I promised Doddy I would.”

“That poor woman.  She loses her husband and then her two lads who should look after her in her old age are both killed.  It’s not right.” I could see, in her eyes, that she was thinking of a similar scenario for herself if the worst happened.

I stood and k
issed her on her forehead, “Don’t worry! We will all survive.  It’s not as bad as you might think out there.” That was a lie and it is a sad thing when you have to lie to your mother but it was better than the alternative.  Mum was a worrier and I would save her from as much worry as I could. I walked the long way around to her cottage for I needed time to think and I needed to give Mrs Brown the time to get back from church.

The Brown’s house had closed curtains. It did not mean she was abed; in Burscough they did things the old fashioned way.  The curtains would remain closed until she had finished mourning her boys. When she opened the door she was exactly as I had expected.  She was dressed from head to toe in black.

As soon as she saw me she burst into tears and threw her arms around me. “I’m right glad that you are safe.  My boys always thought the world of you. Come in, I’ll put the kettle on.”

I knew there was no point in saying I was not thirsty; there was a protocol to this.  There would also be cake and it would be the best china. This was my world now and I knew where I was
and the rituals involved. After she had poured the tea and given me my slice of fruit cake she engaged in small talk about my mum and the girls.  She was excited about the wedding; the whole village would be attending.

Then I made the mistake of complimenting her on the cake. She burst into tears again. “It was to be for Christmas.  Donald, especially, liked it but there’ll be just me.” Donald had been Doddy’s given name. 
It sounded strange to hear it.

The fruit cake suddenly turned to sawdust in my mouth. After she had dried her eyes she took a worn letter from the drawer of her table.  “Donald sent this when his brother died
.” She proffered the letter as though I needed to read it. I took it and opened it.  I recognised Doddy’s scrawl. “He said that you promised to tell me what happened to his brother.  He thought highly of you did our Donald. He said the boys would follow you anywhere. He said you looked after them.” She reached over and touched my hand, “Thank you for trying to take care of my lads.”

I scanned the letter but I could not take it in. I had not known he had written the letter.  I looked at the envelope and recognised George’s handwriting.  He must have found the letter amongst Doddy’s things.  I saw, for the first time, the slightly pink tinge to the letter.  It was Doddy’s blood. I took a deep breath, “Well Mrs Brown I promised Dod...
Donald, that I would tell about your boys and I am a man of my word.”

I spent the next hour telling her, without any of the graphic detail, how her sons had performed in Flanders. I did not have to make anything up.  They were both fine soldiers. I told her of Doddy
and Tiny’s heroism and how Doddy had saved my life. I ended by telling her of his final act of valour. “He should get a medal for what he did.”

As she folded the letter and put it away she said, “But it won’t bring them back, will it?”
The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner was the only sound. There was nothing I could say; she was right.

I left the cottage with a heavy heart.  As I walked home I wondered if I could have done anything more to stop their deaths and I knew I could not. It was tragic and unnecessary but, given that we were in battle, it was inevitable.  At least Robbie and George had survived.

When I reached home I took off my uniform and changed into my civilian clothes.  They were my best clothes for it was Sunday and that was the most important day of the week. Dad and the rest had not got back from church.  Mum told me that they had gone to speak with Lord Burscough about the wedding. 

When they returned they were all bubbling
, even my dad. “Lord Burscough drove us in his motor car to the hall from church!”

You would have thought it ranked alongside a knighthood. Sarah nodded, “Mum you should have seen the faces of the others they were green with envy.”

Albert turned to me, “Lord Burscough asked after you Bill.”

“He wondered why I wasn’t in church more likely.” The looks on their faces confirmed my thoughts.  I was not certain I was ready for church.  Any God who could condone the slaughter I had seen was a strange god of love and peace.

Kath said, “Ooh and young Lord Burscough will be here on Friday.  He’s coming for the wedding.”

That brightened me up.  It would be good to see him again.  He was a reminder of life before the war. Sunday was a lovely lazy day.  After lunch the men dozed while the women cleaned up and prepared high tea.  It was the day in the week when the best china came out and we all perched precarious plates on our knees and tried to get huge fingers into tiny cup handles.

Dad went back to church with mum for the evening service.  I knew they wanted me to go but they never said a word. After they had gone Kath and Sarah came to talk with me as I wandered around the garden.

“I am glad that you are home for my wedding.  It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

“Aye well if it wasn’t for this wound I wouldn’t be.  For that reason I am glad about the wound.  It means I can see my sister get married. Is Cedric worried about having to fight?”

“No, Lord Burscough says he is more valuable working in the big house.”

“Good.  I am pleased.”

“Of course he gets some snide comments and funny looks.  He has stopped going down to the Wheatsheaf.”

I wondered why I had not seen him there.  “Well next Saturday night, I’ll take him there for a pint and we’ll see if he gets any comments.”

Kath giggled and Sarah laughed, “You will not.”

I was taken aback.  It was not like our Sarah to back away from a fight, “I won’t cause trouble.”

“No, you goose, it’s my wedding night.  I hope that my husband will be too busy to go out with his new brother in law.”

I laughed too. It was good to be back in a normal world.

I spent the
next day digging in the garden.  The potatoes needed harvesting and then the plot needed turning over.  It was good physical exercise and was just what I needed. There is something satisfying about a garden; it is producing something.  Even the dead from the garden bring forth new life.

The
exercise did me good.  That evening, at tea, I said, “I think I will go to the barracks tomorrow.”

It was as though I had dropped the best china. Everyone stopped eating and their cutlery clattered on to their plates.

“Whatever for son?”

I could not understand their reaction. “Well our Sarah wants me in my dress uniform
for the wedding and it is at the barracks.” The relief was palpable. “What?  Did you think I was going back to the war?”

Dad shrugged, “We didn’t know son.  You’ve said nowt about it yet.”

“Well the regiment has been disbanded.  I shall have to transfer if I want to go back to the war.”

Mother brightened but Albert looked disappointed. “You’d think about not going back then Bill?”

“I haven’t made my mind up, Bert.  Besides I need to talk to George Armstrong.  He works there now.  I am still making my mind up.  I still have some time before my pass runs out.”

I could have borrowed a horse from the stables but I chose to walk.  I needed to exercise my leg and walking helped me to think.
I was also uncertain how I would feel riding a horse again. Mum insisted on giving me a packed lunch and I put it in my knapsack. I felt happier knowing that the Luger was away from Albert.  He might be tempted again.

The barracks looked the same and yet, as with the cottage, somehow smaller.
The regiment had rarely had to sleep there but even so it had been the home for a couple of hundred men. It was tidy but looked forlorn and empty. I walked into the silent yard and thought about those men who would not be returning.

“You made it then?  You are walking better that is for sure.” I turned to see a smartly turned out George.  I strode up to him and shook his hand. He waved a hand around the square, “Welcome to my world.” He leaned in, “It is a bit quiet, mind. Come on, I have a little bottle in my office and we can celebrate.”