Listen to "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits
Battle of the Somme – November 1916
Francis Bonnefoy was extremely concerned when his younger brother Matthew Williams volunteered to join him in battle. He was grateful on the surface, but in his heart felt that it was unfair, after all this wasn't his war. He had grown up in Canada and Francis still viewed him as a young child, even though he was fully grown and although only 19 he was a man at that age. When he arrived at the battle of the Somme, Francis welcomed him with open arms and tried to get him into doing activities that meant he didn't have to go over the trenches with the troops, such as working the telegraph. He had been there three weeks when he realised what Francis was doing and eventually he realised that his older brother was the one stopping him from joining the battle properly. One cold evening as they were about to rest for the night, Matthew, who was a naturally shy young man, eventually found the courage to speak to him about his desire to go over the trenches and fight.
"Can I have a word with you Sir?" He asked being far too polite. It made his big brother smile at first.
"Matthew..." he said with a smile "You do not need to call me Sir… call me Francis, there is no need to be so formal!" He said and hugged him. "What do you want to have a word about?"
"I want to know why … you got me on working the telegraph instead of fighting…" He said in a serious tone. "I am perfectly capable, and I came here to help defend France… not to sit taking messages and making cups of tea."
Francis' face dropped, he wasn't about to let his little brother go over the top, he didn't want him to. He was afraid for him but didn't want to let on that was the reason. "Oh Matthew, you are the best telegraph operator we've had in months…" He lied "You speak fluently, both English and French, and that's what we need… if you go over the top it would be … dangerous for you."
"Isn't it dangerous for everyone?" Matthew replied. "Look Francis… if I go over, I've seen a way I can get to the enemy… I know I can do it…I want to get out there and fight…"
Francis looked at his young brother. He was so enthusiastic and bright, thinking he could go out there and everything would be fine. He looked into his young eyes, which spoke of hope, and a sense of duty and loyalty towards both France and England. All he could feel was that he had to protect Matthew, not send him out to fight a war he had nothing to do with… a war that he didn't need to be in. It saddened him to think that he might want to go out there.
"Matthew, do you know how many young men have died in this war?" Francis uttered "I wouldn't want you to go over the top and something happen to you."
"So… you think I'm still a child…right?"
He looked down and tried not to gaze at his younger brother in the eyes, and sighed deeply. "You don't need to be in this war Matthew, you live in a peaceful part of the world. " He said "It's not that I think you're a child, its… its… "
"What is it then?" He asked.
Francis finally sighed defeated in his arguments. He wanted to protect the young Canadian, not send him over the top to certain death. Instead of answering him, Francis laid down on his bunk and turned the other way, not ready to talk about it. Matthew went out to the trench for a smoke and some fresh air. There were many different soldiers of different nationalities in that trench, the English, the French, the Canadians and some Americans too, as they were part of an allied operation. Most of the men had seen some action, but he, Matthew hadn't even fired his weapon. It made him feel inadequate in some ways.
"I want you to send a message to command HQ…" Came a British voice behind him. It was Commander Kirkland, and he was in the middle of lots of different things.
" Yes sir Commander Kirkland Sir!" Matthew gasped being overly polite again, and he saluted.
.
"Tell them that the enemy have made their move… ten men are dead … and I recommend action within three days." He said handing him a piece of paper. "We're counting on you."
"Yes sir…" He replied. He could see the point in being the telegraph operator but he still wanted to go over the top. After going back inside, he sent the message and then thought about how he could be a real part of this war instead of always sending the messages and receiving them all the time. It was no good asking Francis for permission, he'd have to show him and all the others what he was made of, even if that meant going against orders.
Francis still wasn't talking to him. He lay on his bunk, pretending to be asleep, but he wasn't. He was awake and facing the other way, thinking of Matthew when he was a child, how he needed his protection always, and he was always ready to give it. He recalled the little boy with his polar bear teddy, and how he had been such a gentle child, who it seemed had grown into a gentle adult, but still he couldn't think of him as a grown man… not little Matthew. He loved the boy, and wanted to be the best big brother ever, and when he was younger, if anyone bullied him, he always counted on his big brother to be there, to sort everything out. Worst of all was the fact that young Matthew suffered from seizures, and because Francis wanted him to have a good life, he encouraged him to keep quiet about them, so that he wouldn't be held back in life. He couldn't help thinking that if he had done exactly the opposite, and allowed Matthew to be open about it, then he wouldn't have been accepted into the army at all. He recalled he first time he witnessed it, when young Matthew was only 12 years old. He'd given him his supper and was reading to him to help him sleep, when his younger brother had his first seizure, a full grand mall convulsion as he lay in bed, after a happy day. First his eyes rolled back and his back arched, before his body was racked with violent spasms that he couldn't control. This had happened many times, but never in public, and in that aspect Francis thought Matthew had been lucky that it hadn't been found out. He couldn't possibly let him go over the top.
Matthew was waiting for a reply from HQ and thinking about how he could defy Francis, and his opportunity came sooner than he imagined. The reply came through a few moments later.
"Commander Kirkland. Your orders are as follows. Three battallions, East, East by North East and South East. In two days."
That would be his chance. He resolved to defy Francis' orders and get out there, and do some damage, and fight, doing what he knew he was capable of. He wrote the message out in full and returned it to Commander Kirkland who was waiting outside.
"A message from HQ Commander Kirkland Sir." He said and handed him the paper. The worried look on Arthur's face said it all… he was going to have to send some more men to their deaths, and that was something he wasn't going to let them do alone. He was going to go out there with his men and he knew it.
"Damn…" He uttered. "Looks like we're going over…" He sighed and then walked away.
"What was that message?" Francis asked as Matthew returned to the bunker.
"It was for Commander Kirkland… he's going over the top in two days time." Matthew said seriously. "I'd like to go with them Francis."
"That's not a good idea… I forbid it… " Francis replied.
Matthew knew that would be the case, and just gave him a look of disappointment before going to bed, and ignoring his older brother all night.
The next two days were intense, and the messages coming through the telegraph for Commander Kirkland were about a strategic attack on the enemy, he was to lead his troops across the Somme, to victory on the other side, he was given co ordinates and times, and Matthew knew exactly when and where everyone would be. Francis guessed what he might do, but didn't want to say anything to him, however it worried him about what his younger brother might try to do. He watched him carefully and made sure he was never far away from him.
"I didn't know Matthew had been assigned here." Commander Kirkland said interrupting the Frenchman's thoughts. He offered Francis a cigarette and had one himself. "I thought they were keeping him at H.Q. What happened?"
"He made them send him out here." Francis replied. "I didn't know till he arrived… and if I had I would have disallowed it…"
"You can't hold the kid back forever Francis." Commander Kirkland replied. "Goodness knows I found that out when Alfred wanted his independence…"
Arthur had no idea of Matthews seizures, or how vulnerable he was. Even though he'd helped Francis raise the boy, he was very distant and only helped out when needed. They were practically strangers at this point and he knew absolutely nothing about him.
"This isn't the same thing…" Francis replied. "You don't understand… Matthew can't go out there and fight… he…"
Arthur stood there listening, but Francis couldn't tell him about Matthew's illness or anything. "He what?"
"Nothing… I just don't want him to go out there… he's only a kid… "
"Alright… we'll make sure he doesn't go over the top." Arthur replied. "Keep him busy." He said "But you're going to have to let him grow up sometime…"
Two days later, a thick fog had descended over the Somme, and Commander Kirkland lined up his troops ready to go over the top. 100 men, some of them French and some of them English, including himself, each and every one accounted for. He was prepared for what was going to happen now, and he didn't want this at all, but he had to go through with orders.
"When I blow this whistle…" He ordered his men "We attack. Are you ready?"
Without waiting for an answer he blew the whistle and the men did as they were ordered, running over the top of the trench and into the battlefield, straight into a barrage of bullets and shells, as if somehow, the Prussian army had somehow intervened with the telegraph transmissions. It was like they knew when they were going to attack and were prepared for them. Commander Kirkland drew his handgun and ran alongside his countrymen, English and French, firing his weapon, dodging bullets and running fast.
Unknown to him, Matthew Williams had defied his older brother's orders and at the last moment, he joined the men who went over the top, determined to prove his worth on the battlefield. He ran alongside the other soldiers with his rifle in hand shooting at the enemy, and roaring out a battle cry. This was what he wanted, now he would prove to Francis, to Commander Kirkland, to everyone that he was strong and he could do this. He was as good as his twin, Alfred, and he was going to show them what he was really made of.
It was not long before Francis realised Matthew was nowhere to be found and he had done exactly what he'd feared, defied orders and gone over the top with the battalions that Arthur was leading. Fear gripped the Frenchman's heart. This was not what he signed up for, not Matthew… his young brother… why the boy was practically a son to him. Without a moments thought, he hauled himself up and over the trench, dodging the hail of bullets and shells to follow Matthew out into the wilderness of hell that he'd got himself into. At least if he could catch up with him he could try to protect him, to save him, to stop him from doing something stupid.
It was chaos on the battlefield, bombs were going off everywhere, the noise was horrific and dodging the constant rain of bullets was running the gauntlet. Many men fell around him, many lives were being claimed by this horrific onslaught and there was no sign of Matthew anywhere. Eventually however he saw him in the distance, and he was on enemy territory. He couldn't help but feel his heart swell with pride to think that young Matthew had made it so far, and was alright. Even so he was in even more danger on that side of the barbed wire, whatever he was trying to prove. Francis ran towards him with the intention of either joining him in his endeavours or somehow leading him to safety.
"Matthew!" He cried running towards him. "Stop!" he yelled.
Hearing the voice of his elder brother he turned around and grinned. "I made it Francis, see I told you I was strong enough, you should have believed me…"
As he stood there Francis saw his younger brother stumble, and this was familiar to him because it was clearly the start of one of his seizures. He had to get there and help him as quickly as possible. He ran faster, still dodging bullets and shells and whatever else to get to him. As he approached the barbed wire, Matthew fell into it, convulsing hard, it was clearly a full on grand mal seizure, but Francis was still too far away from him. The next thing he saw was horrific. Some Prussian soldier fired at Matthew over and over, pumping bullets into his body, sadistically, with no emotion or remorse whatsoever, he shot him.
Screaming out in horror, Francis shot at the soldier and killed him instantly, but kept shooting at him over and over to make sure the bastard was dead.
Though death and darkness gathered all around him, Francis saw that Matthew was still alive, if only just, and he went to his aid, trying to free him from the barbed wire he'd got caught up in.
"Matthew…" he cried, as tears flowed from his eyes "I'm here… attendez…attendez… I'm going to free you from this hell…" he wept. The barbed wire was horrific, it was like an endless hell trying to undo it and unwind it, as it wrapped itself around Matthew's body during that inhuman attack. "Attendez!"
Eventually he was getting somewhere, and was able to pick Matthew up from the ground, although some of that barbed wire was so stuck in him he had to remove the boy's coat in order to free him.
"I've got you… its alright.. I've got you…" He cried and held him, thinking of how he was going to get him to safety.
"Francis…" groaned Matthew, his eyes looking distant, and his body racked with pain as he'd never felt in his life. "I…just wanted to make you proud of me…" he mumbled… as he gazed into his older brother's eyes.
"I am proud of you… Mon Dieu!" Uttered Francis, crying hard. "I always was…"
At that moment more gunfire came out of nowhere and Matthew fell against the barbed wire once more as he was shot by machine gun fire this time.
Horrified beyond belief, Francis screamed and screamed, his mind not able to make sense of what was happening. Matthew was being slaughtered right in front of him and there was nothing he could do, absolutely nothing. All he could see was poor Matthew's body being pumped full of bullets, there was blood everywhere, and all over him… his mind just couldn't handle it.
"MATTHEW!" he screamed over and over, till the onslaught seemed to stop. Commander Kirkland had appeared from nowhere with a rifle and was just shooting at anything that moved, shooting … killing whoever it was in the bushes that had done this to Matthew.
In the aftermath, in the cold, and the smoke that followed, crying heartily, Francis took his younger brothers body in his arms and laid him on the freezing ground. This couldn't really have happened could it? Was he really seeing this? Matthew was dead? He stood up, trembling, shaking, completely and utterly shell shocked. He just couldn't handle it at all.
Commander Kirkland dropped his spent weapon, gasping for breath, and also shocked beyond belief. Slowly he turned and saw Francis backing off, and he didn't look good at all, he looked terrible, he'd never seen him in such a state.
"Francis?" He uttered and glanced at Matthew's mutilated body. He couldn't look at it… he couldn't take it in… he had to somehow take him back and look after him but Francis needed him too.
"Francis wait…" Arthur uttered as he moved towards him.
The Frenchman clearly wasn't himself, it was as though he didn't even recognise Arthur, as they stood there on that field. He let out a little sob, clearly shocked and terrified, and in the worst state he'd ever been in his life. He didn't wait, he ran off into the fog, into the field… and he didn't know where he was going to go or how, all he knew was he had to run.
Arthur ran after him into the fog, but it was impossible to see where he had gone, as it had become thick and nothing could be seen… only the hell of the war around could be heard, and the screams of the dying…
The commander knew what he had to do… he had to go after Francis… he knew what happened to deserters in the war… and should Francis get caught by the enemy or his own countrymen, he would be shot…unless Arthur could find him first…