All I Have to Give (13 page)

The prayers of the chaplain came to an end.

With the tying of the blindfold, the calm that had descended on him as they had driven him the short distance to his place of death deserted him. In its place a feeling of being strangled by his
own throat muscles took him, as his breath came in short, painful gasps.

He tried to think of his ma, but her face wouldn’t come to him. Then he thought of Betsy, and although at times he’d been annoyed at how she put herself in his way whenever she
could, he knew he’d been pleased really, and wouldn’t know what to do without her. He thought about her beauty, her golden curls, her smiley eyes and her full lips. How he longed to
have her with him now. He would hold her cuddly body to his, and kiss every part of her.

‘Firing squad, fall in! Firing squad, take aim.’

A trickle of warm water ran down his leg.
Please God, don’t let me mates see as I’ve wet meself.
His breath laboured even more. His heart thudded against his chest. Clamping
his teeth on his lips, he waited.

‘Fire!’

The deafening crack of the rifles had him gasping in a deep breath of fear. Then he felt nothing. No pain, no falling to the ground, no blackness . . . He wasn’t dead! The angry voice of
the officer in charge broke the silence:

‘What the . . . ? How dare you disobey an order! Christ, you’ll all be shot for this. Corporal, I saw you and some of your men raise their rifles. You must have planned this. You
blithering idiot. What did you think? That you would save the snivelling coward? Well, that will happen over my dead body.’

A blast made Jimmy jump. Then a hot pain registered, flaming a redness through his brain, before an impenetrable blackness engulfed him. It was a swirling blackness that lifted him as if he was
a feather and took him towards a beautiful light. As he floated, all fear and feeling left him, and a happiness like none he’d ever felt before settled on him. Into this happiness came a
voice. A voice that he loved and had missed so much – that of their Bobby: ‘Come on, lad. Eeh, you took your time; we were expecting you five minutes since.’

Nothing moved; even the breeze died. Albert stared at the crumpled body of Jimmy as he tried to process what had happened. He hadn’t reckoned on the fact that the officer
in charge had a handgun with which to finish the job, if the squad hadn’t hit the target. How could he forget such a vital piece of information?

An intense rage boiled inside him. It took away all reasoning. Tearing at the officer, he raised his rifle and, with blood-curdling screams, brought the weapon crashing down on the cowering
figure of the man, who no longer held any authority for him. Blow after crushing blow reduced the man’s head to a bloody mess.

‘Stop, for Christ’s sake! Corp, stop!’

These words, and the hands that restrained him, brought Albert back to sanity. With the return of his reasoning came remembrance of his plan. Shaking himself free, he dashed over to the box,
retrieved his Chauchat machine rifle and stood, holding them all back.

Their shocked faces reflected back to him the enormity of what he intended to do, but he couldn’t change his mind.

‘Corporal, for God’s sake! Whatever your intention, allow me to tend to Private O’Flynn and the officer. I have to make sure O’Flynn is dead, and the officer may need my
help.’

Registering the medic and the priest standing on the sidelines for the first time since before the shooting, Albert waved the medic forward. Once he’d done his checks, Albert ordered him
and the now-kneeling priest to lie facedown in front of him, where he could see them.

His men had quietened. They stood like statues, gaping at him. None of them had a weapon to hand with which to stop him, having swapped theirs for the ones he’d given them.

‘I’m sorry.’ Opening fire, he made every bullet count. Each soldier – whether still standing in his shocked position, or on the move ready to run for his life –
took a bullet in the knee or thigh.

The air filled with their screams of agony.

Cries of ‘You fucking bastard!’, ‘You fucking traitor!’ and ‘Why?’ came to him, and the horror of the scene with his men, his faithful comrades-in-arms,
writhing in a bloodbath of pain, nearly undid him. But his reason for inflicting the pain helped him to cope, as he tried to explain. ‘Shut up and listen. I’m sorry, but I ’ad to
do it . . .’

‘Fuck off, you bastard!’

‘Listen, Jacky. I’m telling yer, I ’ad to. I won’t be with you, to ’elp save you. I’m off. This way, I’ve given yer your tickets ’ome.’

As no further protests broke the moans of agony, Albert turned his attention to the prostrate figures of the priest and medic in front of him. Taking out his shotgun, he aimed it at the
priest.

‘Don’t, Corp – don’t. What you’ve done so far I can come to live with, but killing innocent men, I couldn’t. I’d not be able to live with it. For
Christ’s sake, spare them.’

This plea from Brigsy didn’t penetrate the hot feeling inside him, the searing hate of the officers, which he’d never experienced before. He had to kill them, he had to! He
couldn’t leave witnesses. The shots brought forward cries of anguish that would live with him forever, as the pain of killing innocent men pierced his soul.

Without warning, exhaustion crept over Albert. His legs wouldn’t hold him. He slumped to the ground on his knees. He had to make his men understand. ‘I didn’t want to
’urt yer, lads, not ever, but I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving yer to go through a court martial and a firing squad, when I was out of it. That’s why I did this to yer and
why I killed them.’ He pointed at the dead bodies of the priest and the medic. ‘Now, there’s no witnesses as to what ’appened. Tell them that I went berserk and shot
everyone. Tell them that you tried to carry out your duty, but that knowing which ones of yer I’d given the live bullets to, I must ’ave shot them first, making it so that you missed.
That will explain your rifles ’aving been discharged. Say that the officer, realizing what was ’appening, shot Jimmy, and then I bludgeoned ’im to death. I ’ope you can see
me reasoning and can forgive me. I’m done for, anyway. Oh, I’ll take me chance and run for it, but I don’t ’old out much ’ope.’

It was Reeto who spoke. Everyone called Ivan Hardcastle ‘Reeto’ because of his northern accent, and because this is what he said when others said ‘Righto’ to an
instruction.

Struggling to speak and still writhing in agony, he muttered, ‘I – I reckon as I can speak for all . . . At this moment I could t – take a gun to thee, Albert Price, but I
– I know as I am going to be thanking you in the f – future, ’cause as I see it, you’ve been for saving our lives and giving us a ticket home. That is, if we don’t die
of blood loss or some infection or other.’

Feeling his strength come back into him, Albert stood up. ‘Thanks, Reeto, I’m glad you can see me intention. Now, don’t worry, I told Freddie Bird to stay awake. I told
’im that if we weren’t back in the hour, which is what we usually are, then he was to raise the alarm as we would need ’elp. I didn’t tell ’im all of me plan, but
enough so that he took notice. You all know ’im, and know he will keep ’is word, so I’ll leave you now and take me chances. Good luck, and thanks for all the times you protected
me back. I only ’ope you can come to see that today I was looking after yours.’

Only curses followed him, but he understood that. They gave him a moment of deep remorse, as he straddled the old bike that he’d hidden there earlier. It had been found in a ditch before
all the fighting started in earnest. He and a few others had worked on it when they could – pinching stuff from the stores and doing it up and making it road-worthy. That had been a good
time, a time of bonding, and the bike had provided them with a means of fun as well as transport.

Since then he’d run the gauntlet of a million chances of death, and had seen good lads killed or maimed in their thousands, and all for nothing. Nothing for him, anyway, as he now faced a
life of never going back to his beloved East End. Never to have a laugh with his mates in the Elephant and Castle, or to save up a few coppers and go up west for a night out. Nor would he ever
again enjoy a cup of cockles, or juggle a handful of roast chestnuts as he swaggered down the street with a wench on his arm. All gone. And what of the new life he’d planned in his head? But
then that was an impossible dream. He had to admit it: his love for Edith – the almost painful feeling for her that consumed him – was never going to go anywhere. He’d be better
off dead.

Slipping his hand into his pocket, his fingers curled round the handle of the pistol. Sweat broke out from every pore of his body, and his hand shook. But then a picture of Edith’s face
came to him. He saw her lovely, calming smile and knew he had to live. And he knew, too, that he had to live out his life with her. He would go to her and beg her to accompany him; but if she
wouldn’t, though it would break his heart to do so, he would force her to at gunpoint.

Edith lay awake. Her mind was too troubled for her to find solace in sleep. Somehow she felt that all was not well at home, but she couldn’t think what could be wrong.
Christian had been to see her earlier and had told her Douglas was safe, so she knew they were both well.

Christian had looked pale and his cheeks were sunken. His eyes were fearful, as he’d told her that he was to command a force that would try to take Delville Wood. He’d told her that
the task was going to be a very difficult and dangerous one, but that he had every faith in his men. ‘That Corporal Price, who gave us the message that you were here, is to be made up to
Sergeant and assigned to me. A good man, by all accounts,’ he’d said, and had gone on to say, ‘We are set for tomorrow, but he doesn’t know yet. I am to inform him in the
morning.’

She’d had to look away and had felt silly in the presence of her brother, for having the thoughts that had visited her about the corporal. After a moment she’d managed to say,
‘Oh yes, a very good man. He cares about those he is in charge of, but he is suffering badly today, because tonight he has to be in the party that has to shoot one of their own. A young boy,
Jimmy O’Flynn. It’s disgusting, Christian. Jimmy is mentally ill, not a coward. Since when do we English put to death our mentally ill patients?’

Christian hung his head. ‘I know, and I agree with you. The practice sickens my stomach. And yet I can see the value of the deterrent, and the need for one. I am sorry for the boy and his
family, and I hope Price comes out of this as he always does, with his head held high. He should do, as he has always put his duty above his personal feelings.’

‘Sorry for his family,’ she’d almost shouted. ‘Christian, Jimmy is their last son – their last child! His brothers were killed at the beginning of the war. Jimmy
defied the King’s orders that no more of the family would be asked to serve, by coming to do his bit. He is sixteen! Is there nothing you can do to stop this?’

His shamefaced ‘No, I am so sorry’, and the tear she saw in his eye, stopped her from berating him further. Orders were orders at the end of the day and, a captain or not, he had to
follow them and uphold them.

Her thoughts went back to Albert. She wasn’t so sure he would cope and come out ready to carry on and do his duty. He had expressed extreme distress at the coming execution, but he also
knew it was his responsibility to do this last act for one of his own.
Ha! Duty – responsibility! How much of that can they ask of one man?

Edith feared for him, and her fear left her tossing and turning until she felt herself drifting off. But it seemed she’d only just closed her eyes when a hand shook her awake. Terror
gripped her, and her dread of bad news came rushing back into her confused mind.

‘Edith, Edith . . . shush . . . ! It’s Albert. Oh, Edith.’

‘Oh, Albert, you frightened me, what are you doing here? Are you all right? What’s happened? Oh, my dear, you are crying.’

‘Come outside. I don’t want to wake anyone. Get your things on, though, as it’s cold and wet out there.’

Whispering as Albert had, Edith told him she would only be a minute. Her arms ached to hold and comfort him, but this made her cross with herself. What was she thinking! Always in control of her
emotions, it was disconcerting to have them run away with themselves and propel her into making decisions she might not otherwise take.

Rain soaked her the moment she stepped outside. She should have been used to it by now, but she wasn’t. The mud sucked in her Wellingtons, making it difficult to step towards the huddled
figure of Albert waiting at the end of the dormitory tent.

A shock went through her as she neared him and his hand shot out and grabbed her. ‘I ’ave to go, Edith. I’ve done something really bad. I want you to come with me.’

‘What! I can’t – don’t be ridiculous. Let go of me, Albert, you’re hurting my arm. What have you done that has meant you have to go? Surely nothing is that bad that
you have to become a deserter?’

‘I killed three officers. I – I lost me reasoning. Please come, Edith. They will be after me by now. I ’ave to leave right now. I’ll tell you all about it as we go. But
if we don’t go now and they catch me, they’ll ’ave to shoot me on sight, as I won’t go without a fight. Please, Edith, I – I love you.’

Horror at what he’d said rendered her speechless, but then the thought of Albert being shot made her heart sink as if a heavy weight had landed on it. But despite this, she knew she could
not desert her patients and her colleagues, who all relied on her. ‘I cannot believe what you are saying, Albert. This isn’t like you. My brother was here today and he said you had been
singled out to go with him; he said you were known as the bravest and most loyal soldier. Why? Why are you doing this?’

‘I’ve no time to tell you. Just believe me that if we don’t go, I will die.’

‘Then you must go, but I can’t come with you. I’m needed here. I have to stay. Please, let go of me and get away as quickly as you can. I will pray for you, my dear, and send
my love with you. Stay safe, and we will meet up in the future, I am sure of that.’