I've been quiet for a while. Here is a thing I did for my English homework and I got good feedback so I hope you like it.
The Day It All Changed
Margaret had left her office only a moment before, the door was still open, so she saw no reason why he had knocked, yet she still greeted him as if the door had been shut.
"Enter."
"Telegram for Colonel Brett, Matron." The young Private responded while standing in the still open doorway.
"Well he can't take it now, can he Chinnery? Leave it on his desk." Her voice still tense and clipped from her previous conversation.
"I beg your pardon, Matron but a telegram for the Colonel." He repeated adding extra emphasis on the word telegram. She slowly looked up from her desk, understanding the boys meaning.
"Thank you Chinnery, I'll take it to him now." She stood from the desk and walked form the office, taking the telegram from him as she went. Calmly as she could, she proceeded to the outbuilding where Joan's court martial was being held.
The questions Pubright had asked Joan had started to become more personal, Roland thought, but he didn't dare interrupt. He was hardly in Pubright's good books and asking him to tone down his questioning, would certainly spell trouble for him. He had taken a chance asking if the poor woman could sit, after Soper had not supplied a chair. He hardly noticed when Grace walked in to speak with Pubright. She whispered something incoherent in his ear, but the Colonel still nodded in acknowledgment of her words. She then beckoned for Roland to follow her outside. He did as requested.
"What is it?" he asked her when they were out of earshot of anybody. His eyes then fell upon the telegram
"There is no good way to do this." She said simply, handing him the telegram. He instantly understood.
"I'm so sorry, Roland. I knew you were so proud of him." Her eyes filled with regret that she had to be the one to impart such news.
His eyes stayed fixed upon the paper in his hand. He was still reeling with the shock of it, when he met her gaze. Silently thanking her, with a single nod of his head, he turned to go back to the court martial. He entered sitting back on his chair next to Pubright. He apologised for his absence, hoping he didn't seem too distant. Try as he might though, he could not focus throughout the rest of the court martial. His thoughts lay with his son. Who lay dead on a battlefield, in no-man's land. Another dead body. Roland had dealt with death before. How could he have not? A surgeon in the RAMC, avoiding death? It was near impossible. He had seen men die in front of him, on the operating table and in the field, during the Boer war. This was different though. This was his son.
The son he'd laughed with, cried with, talked with, argued with and spent time with. The son he had watched grow from baby, to a boy, to a man. A memory swam to the forefront of his mind. Freddie's first birthday. It had become a farce more than a birthday party. Hetty had made a big deal of inviting as many members of the family that could come along. His first Christmas had been better, much quieter. Only close family. All Roland had wanted to do was spend the day with his son and wife. He managed to supress any more memories until the end of the court martial.
Joan had been found guilty of treason and was sentenced to death by firing squad. He knew that he should feel hatred for her, for betraying the army, but coming now when he had just lost Freddie, all he could feel was pity for the woman. Pitying the fact that it was a waste of a life, or because of the probing questions that had been asked, made her share secrets, she was not proud of. He could not make up his mind.
Sitting in his office a later that evening, Roland recalled the fact that Freddie would have been in Flanders. Hopefully a peaceful place for his son's final resting place. He deserved nothing less, because his death had put everything into perspective. This had been the day it all changed.
The End
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