Prologue-Home

Walter kept on writing even though he was meant be on the front now he needed to finish his letter to Rilla which so far said:

'Dear Rilla-My-Rilla,

We're going over the top today, Rilla-my-Rilla, I wrote mother and Di yesterday, but somehow I feel as if I must write you today. I hadn't intended to do any writing today but I've got to. Do you remember old Mrs. Tom Crawford over-harbour, who was always saying that it was 'laid on her' to do such and such a thing? Well, that is just how I feel. It's 'laid on me' to write you tonight—you, sister and chum of mine. There are some things I want to say before—well, before tomorrow.

"You and Ingleside seem strangely near me tonight. It's the first time I've felt this since I came. Always home has seemed so far away—so hopelessly far away from this hideous welter of filth and blood. But tonight it is quite close to me—it seems to me I can almost see you—hear you speak. And I can see the moonlight shining white and still on the old hills of home. It has seemed to me ever since I came here that it was impossible that there could be rosy dawns and striking dawns anywhere in the world. But tonight somehow, all the beautiful things I have always loved seem to have become possible again—and this is good, and makes me feel a deep, certain, exquisite happiness. It must be autumn at home now—the harbour is a-dream and the old Glen hills blue with haze, and Rainbow Valley a haunt of delight with wild asters blowing all over it—our old "farewell-summers." I always liked that name better than 'aster'—it was a poem in itself.

"Rilla, you know I've always had premonitions. You remember the Pied Piper—but no, of course you wouldn't—you were too young. One evening long ago when Nan and Di and Jem and the Merediths and I were together in Rainbow Valley I had a queer vision or presentiment—whatever you like to call it. Rilla, I saw the Piper coming down the Valley with a shadowy host behind him.

"Is there laughter in your face yet, Rilla? I hope so. The world will need laughter and courage more than ever in the years that will come next.

"I meant to write to Una this morning, too, but I won't have time now. Read this letter to her and tell her it's really meant for you both—you two dear, fine loyal girls. Tomorrow, when we go over the top—I'll think of you both—of your laughter, Rilla-my-Rilla, and the steadfastness in Una's blue eyes—somehow I see those eyes very plainly tonight, too. Yes, you'll both keep faith—I'm sure of that—you and Una. And so goodnight. We go over the top now."

Lots of Love your brother Walter'

Walter wrote the address on the envelope and sealed with his signet ring. He stood up put it in the mail chute and got dressed quickly. As he was late he was put at the back, his friend Charles Stevens, who sister was in the Red Cross, in his place at the front. They slowly marched forwards when the bombs first hit. Charles was struck. Walter darted through the confusion to his friend who was lying on no-mans land he dragged Charles body to the Red Cross van he was shot on the arm but carried on heedlessly.

Desperation gives you energy he thought to himself grimly.

He started dragging Charles with even more energy to the van finally he made it. He talked to the official who was in charge, who after a tiny bit of persuading, decided to take them back to the hospital where they would be treated. The van left just before the flames of war reached the forest where the army camp was.

"Oh my god." said Cecily hysterically, "What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine but your brother isn't, he's in the back." Walter replied exhausted.

"Good god Charles, Charles!"

"Cecily, my sister as my friend Walter says the piper will pipe me west today. I feel sure of this. And Cecily, I'm not afraid. When you see my dead body, remember that. I've won my own freedom here—freedom from all fear. I shall never be afraid of anything again—neither of death— nor of life; if after all, I am to go on living. And life, I think, would be the harder of the two to face—for it could never be beautiful for me again. There would always be such horrible things to remember—things that would make life ugly and painful always for me. I could never forget them. But whether its life or death, I'm not afraid, my dear, and I am not sorry that I came. I'm satisfied. I'll never go to explore the world I once dreamed of globetrotting—but I've helped to make Canada safe for the explorers of the future—for the workers of the future—ay, and the dreamers, too—for if no man dreams, there will be nothing for the workers to fulfil—the future, not of Canada only but of the world—when the 'red rain' of Langemarck and Verdun shall have brought forth a golden harvest—not in a year or two, as some foolishly think, but a generation later, when the seed sown now shall have had time to germinate and grow. It's the fate of mankind. That is what we're fighting for. And we shall win—never for a moment doubt that, sister. For it isn't only the living that is fighting the dead are fighting too. Such an army cannot be defeated." he took a deep breath in and continued.

"I've a idea about you, Cecily, as well as about myself. I think you and Walter will live through the war—and that there are long years of happiness for you by-and-by. And you will tell your children of the Idea we fought and died for—teach them it must be lived for as well as died for, else the price paid for it will have been given for nought. This will be part of your work, dear sister. And if you—all you girls back in the homeland—do it, then we who don't come back will know that you have not 'broken faith' with us." With this he shuddered and lay still.

"Charles! Charles!" cried Cecily.

"Cecily he's dead."

"No! NO!"

Sobbing Cecily was led away from her brother and Walter thought of the words Charles had said in the van 'Take care of her.'

"I will Charles I will."

Hey guys I just though what would have happened if Walter lived

Ouatpeace