Chapter 17. Here today, gone tomorrow
"Are you up for some chess tonight? I haven't had a decent
game since we played at Bornemouthe."
Winston unrolled a stretcher. "How long ago was that, Harkness."
"Too long." Harkness said.
They'd spent the morning washing blood off stretchers and
standing them against the first aid station wall to dry. Harkness
nudged Winston. Behind them, new recruits tried not watch
what they were doing.
"They'll know what it's about soon enough." Winston said.
He tipped out the bucket he was using. "I'm off to get some
water." The aid post had been set up in a farmer's milking shed
and at the back of the buildings there was a well. As he lowered
the roped bucket, Winston caught sight of his reflection in the
dark water below.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
He'd watched Harry's body fall backwards into the river and drift
away after he'd shot himself, now the feeling of floating blind in a
current washed over him. Winston shook his head and clenched
his jaw until the feeling passed.
*
Harkness held out closed fists and Winston picked.
"I'm white then." Harkness said. He turned the board around
and made the first move. "They're trying to rush reinforcements
up but they're not going to get here in time." As an aid post
medical officer Harkness was privy to planning that Winston was not.
Winston moved his piece. "When's the next show then?"
"In two days time." Harkness said.
It had rained continuously before the last planned attack. The battle
field had been a sea of knee deep mud and because of it, three teams
of six stretcher bearers had been tasked. The attack had been a
complete disaster. After reorganising, only two teams of four stretcher
bearers were left, made up of the survivors who were still able to
walk and carry.
"Here today, gone tomorrow." Winston said.
Harkness tapped his Queen. "Fuck it, I've got two bottles of the
finest medicinal spirits hidden away here somewhere."
Winston laughed. "We'll call it a draw then."
*
The soldiers were in position, shoulder to shoulder an hour
before the attack. As final preparations were being made
Winston stood against the trench wall with his eyes closed listening
to his new squad mates. He heard the Scouser accents of Arthur and
Robbie good naturedly cat calling each other, but one voice was missing
- young Toby. Winston looked around. Toby had his back to them and
was trying to wrap his hands with bandages.
"Show me Toby. The wooden stretcher handles are hard on everybody's
hands. Have you got gloves?"
"I lost them the first week I was here."
"So did I." Winston said as he finished bandaging Toby's hands.
Toby saw the silver chain wrapped around Winston's wrist.
"What's that? "
Winston showed Toby the the pendant. "It was on my wrist when
they brought me in to the aid post. No idea where it came from,
so it's a bit of a lucky charm."
"I wonder what the 'V' stand for," Toby said. "Victory maybe?"
"That's a nice thought." Winston said.
"Fix bayonets." the officer on the fire step called.
*