Part III: Back at the Front
The ride back from HQ was silent. Blackadder all but ignored Darling, and never even allowed their eyes to meet. Blackadder, intent on hiding their liaison forever, found it easier to completely block Darling out.
Blackadder had no intentions of showing a new attitude towards Darling, or changing his demeanor. After all, what happened at HQ was just a desperate grab at intimacy in the midst of a living hell, wasn't it? "Yes, that is it," Blackadder thought to himself. "It meant nothing. Nothing has changed."
As soon as they arrived back at the front line, Blackadder headed straight to his bunker. As he walked through the makeshift threshold of his bunker, Kevin Darling following several steps behind. Inside, George was seated at a table, stringing up cotton balls with a thread and needles. Seeing the two captains entering the room, he rose to attention, and offered an enthusiastic salute.
"Back from Headquarters already, Captain Blackadder?"
"Yes, and I brought a nice big Christmas Cracker with me." Blackadder said, sarcastically, waiving at the captain behind him.
"Is that supposed to be some kind of a joke, Blackadder?" Darling asked, defensively.
"Not at all." Blackadder sat down, put his feet up, and completely ignored Darling, as he stood by the door.
At that moment, Private Baldrick raced through the door. "Sirs! Sirs! The strangest thing happened, sir." Baldrick said, excited. "All these lorries just drove up. And each one is carrying millions and millions of little presents. Maybe they are for us!"
"Well, this is turning out to be a grand Christmas, after all!" George exclaimed, motioning towards the two captains. "Perhaps Baldrick should put another rat on the fire for tomorrow's tea!"
"Nevermind," Blackadder snapped. "We already have one rat too many."
"That's ok, Lieutenant," Darling added, snarling at Blackadder, the twitch coming back to his eye. "I have no plans on staying."
"Good . . ." Blackadder responded, from across the room.
"Oh, but Captain Darling, do stay!" George insisted. "Look! We have a Christmas ladder, and presents for everyone . . ."
"Oh?" Darling asked, sneering in the direction of Blackadder, who appeared completely disinterested in the whole situation, and instead sat and cleaned out some dirt from underneath his fingernails. "And what did Captain Blackadder get this year?"
"Well, nothing, really," George responded, offering a sad look to his Commanding Officer.
"So, Captain Blackadder got bugger all for Christmas, this year, eh? Not surprised at all." Darling pressed on, anger and bitterness growing in his voice. Blackadder, again keeping up appearances, brushed the conversation off with a sarcastic response.
"Of course I got presents, Darling! There are a thousand of them out there, in little tiny boxes. Waiting just for me . . ."
George, left out of the loop, was fixated on the presents. "A thousand presents, Captain! That's amazing!"
"Yes, it is. And they are all waiting for Captain Blackadder, aren't they?" Darling purred. "Yes. Well, I suspect he will be able to follow out the General's orders by the morning. Right, Blackadder?"
"You forget, Darling. The General ordered you to help me to carry out those orders."
"I think not. It seems you've have quite enough of me already tonight."
Blackadder finally looked up at Darling, beady eyed and snarling back at him. For the first time, Blackadder realized that he had hurt the captain. Perhaps broke him. And not just physically. Perhaps it would be wrong to treat him this way, or to send him away like this. Yet, there was nothing else he could do.
"Darling, you are in on this too! Melchett ordered you to help me carry out his fool's plan, and we are going to figure out how to get out of this, together!"
"Oh, really? Why would I help you?" he snipped.
Blackadder rose to his feet, and pointed at Darling.
"Whatever happened . . . uh, happens . . . tonight . . . you will be held responsible, too!"
"Oh, will I?" Darling responded, truly believing that Blackadder had drawn the metaphorical line in the sand. "As far as the General knows, I came here only to help your. But if you remember, he did put you in charge. It'll be you at the firing squad . . . Good evening, Blackadder."
The Lieutenant and Private looked on, as the two captains argued across the room. The subordinates were completely oblivious to the subtext and emotions secretly exchanged between their superiors.
Indeed, neither Baldrick nor George, nor anyone else for that matter, would fully understand the true undertones of the sarcasm, the banter, and the jealous self-denials exchanged between Captain Blackadder and Captain Darling over the next year.
"I'm heading back to HQ," Darling said, as he shot Edmund one final glare. His final words, before he went out the door, were spoken slowly, and bitterly. "And I'll make sure to tell Melchett that you insisted that I return, and that you would take care of the entire operation."
As Darling left the bunker, Baldrick approached the remaining captain.
"Sir, what was all that about?"
Blackadder did not reply for a moment. Finally, he sat down, and explained General Melchett's plan to his two subordinates.
"That's a brilliant idea, sir!" George exclaimed, nodding his head along with Baldrick.
"No, it's not, George. It's a terrible idea. It's the worst idea since . . . since . . ."
Somehow, he could not find a sarcastic response. He was simply thinking of Darling. Gazing into space, Edmund Blackadder was completely silent.
"Sir? Sir?" Baldrick finally asked, after watching the captain stare blankly for a few moments. "What shall we do with the boxes out there?"
Blackadder shook his head, and closed his eyes as he responded. "Just pass them out to the men, and let them toss them on their fires, Baldrick. Tell them it's an extra special treat from Headquarters, to go along with their extra ration."
"And what about the General, sir?" George asked, with a concerned look on his face. "What will you tell him?"
"Oh, I don't know. And right now I don't care. I'll just make up some lame excuse in the morning. Right now, I just want to get some sleep." He walked over to the Christmas ladder, and picked at some of the white fluffy bits. George and Baldrick, still confused, decided it was simply best not to ask.
"Right then, Captain," George offered, as he and Baldrick headed for the door. "We'll be back in the morning to open up the prezzies."
"Right." Edmund stared at the ladder some more, deep in thought. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sir."
The two soldiers left the captain alone, staring at the Crimble Tree. Not a moment later, Baldrick poked his head back into the bunker.
"Don't worry, sir," Baldrick said, reassuring his commanding officer. "I am sure Father Christmas will come."
"Right."
"He will, don't you worry. But if he doesn't, just remember. There is always next year."
-Fin-
