Ch 4

The whiskey burned as it hit the back of Willie’s throat.

He wiped his mouth and handed the beautifully monogramed hip flask back to Langley-Baston. The two men from opposite extremes of the social spectrum sat together in an evil-smelling dugout.

"Second-Lieutenant Hartley was with your brother when he was killed," said the officer. "Seems they were on night patrol in no-man’s land when a Jerry star-shell caught them out. Mr. Hartley only made it back to our lines this morning. I’m afraid he had to leave your brother and two other lads out there.

"I’m sure you’d like to know that Mr. Hartley said your brother didn’t suffer. And I mean that. He says your brother caught one in the head, he never even knew what hit him."

Willie nodded his head. Death was nothing new to him and strangely his brother’s killing did not evoke much more than a feeling of tiredness in the young man.

"Who were the others Sir?" he asked.

"L.cpl. Murdock and Rifleman Evans are also reported killed," said Langley-Baston softly. "Hartley checked their bodies for signs of life but they were both gone."

Rising from the bench, Langley-Baston out his hand on Willie’s shoulder: "I’m sure you want to be by yourself for a while McCallion. I’ll have Mr. Hartley write to your family and you will obviously want to send a letter to them as well.

"If you need anything else, see Sarn’t Major Reed. There’ll be compassionate leave …"

Willie shook his head. "No point sir. I’d rather stay here if that’s alright?"

Langley-Baston paused at the entrance to the dug-out: "It’s your decision McCallion."

"Thank you sir."

Squirrel had very firm views on the important things in life. Good scran and a good brew rated highly on his list.

Willie was not surprised to see the Squirrel pop his head through the anti-gas curtain, a tin mug in one hand and a greasy looking bacon butty in the other.

"Get that down you son," said the Squirrel. "Me and the rest of the lads .. well, we’re sorry about Bertie."

Squirrel’s discomfiture was obvious. In the midst of a world of slaughter, one more death seemed trivial. And words were pretty much useless.

Willie sighed: "Ah well, God bless him. He’s out of it now. Better dead than crippled eh?"

End ch 4