Chapter 4 – It's a long journey East
November 25 1915
It had been a long few days and Tommy rubbed his eyes as he boarded his final train. Having been on four separate trains by now, he was growing increasingly impatient. He was finally on French soil, passing through the port of Boulogne-Sur-Mer, and he was moving closer to the front. Somehow, even if he had no idea where he was, his surroundings would provide him the answer. Moving out into countryside, the fields weren't as green as he expected them to be, the faces of those they passed as their train pulled out of station after station grew wearier, more terrified, and Tommy was empathetic to their pain.
"You alright Tom?"
Looking up, Tommy eyes fell upon Freddie Thorne, his childhood friend, who had also been stationed with him. He couldn't lie, he was grateful to have the company but he wasn't sure if having a friend with him would make the situation easier or worse. What if something happened to one of them? Would he be able to potentially watch his friend die? Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he nodded briefly. Reaching into his rucksack, he pulled out the small notebook and pen that Polly had given him, making him promise he would write to her regularly, just as she had done with John and Arthur. Leaning over the small table, he began to write, thinking he could make a start and pass the time, before they arrived. Freddie watched him as his friend methodically started writing.
"Who you writing to?"
"Pol and Ada." Tommy answered without looking up. "Figure I'll have this written by the time we stop and I can get it posted."
December 19 1915
Polly sat in the large armchair holding a cigarette in one hand and a large tumbler filled almost to the brim with whisky. She was slumped back in the chair with one leg crossed over the other, taking a brief sip of the drink. A small letter sat in her lap, unopened.
"Hi Pol."
She looked up and smiled briefly as Ada stepped into the room, making her way over to the opposite couch. She glanced over her aunt, taken aback by her appearance. Her skin was lank and underneath her eyes were almost black due to lack of sleep.
"Are you alright?" Ada asked, her eyes narrowing. "You don't look well."
Polly took another drag of her cigarette, holding it within her lips, she lifted the letter and held it out to her niece. Reading through it, Ada recognised Tommy's handwriting straight away. She took in his words about the conditions he was living in, and although he hadn't been near any fighting yet, he was doing what he could to help those who came back from the front with injuries.
"Are you going to write back? He says he should be there for the foreseeable."
Polly nodded. "I'll do it shortly. It's the thought of getting through Christmas Day. Last year, everyone was here, everyone was in high spirits. Well, apart from Thomas."
"He had only recently lost Greta." Ada reminded her.
"Yes, and now, we could lose him."
"We're not going to lose him, Pol. Tommy is as strong as an ox. You know the three of them will be back. It's just a waiting game."
March 28 1916
The sounds of the artillery fire, despite being some miles away, sounded as though they were firing right next door. Thomas pressed his face deep into his pillow trying desperately to limit the loud bangs. It was well after midnight, but the noises didn't let up. Sighing, he turned so he was now lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling only a few feet away from him. The soft snores from his bunkmate below provided little relief. It irritated him that others could manage to ignore the sounds and yet, he couldn't force them from his mind. At times like these, he couldn't help but wish the night away, praying for morning to come, just so he could get up and find something else to do to keep his mind occupied. Being based at Etaples, one of the largest British Military bases, was not without its faults and issues. It was busy and kept him occupied, but one of the most difficult parts for him was the fact he was only a few miles from the English coast. On a clear day, Thomas could see the cliffs of Dover far off in the distance, and being so close, yet being unable to return home was one of the more difficult aspects of army life. As the war had progressed, the area had quickly been transformed to include a military hospital, treating wounded soldiers before they recovered or made the journey back home. He knew it was a stop over for soldiers before they were sent to the front.
He had been exchanging letters back and forth with Polly for the last few months and he had tried not to divulge too much information which would worry her. The last letter he had sent to her had been some time ago and he was yet to hear back from her, slightly concerned that several weeks had gone by.
April 3 1916
Night had quickly appeared and the numbers of Emily's colleagues had slowly dwindled. Yet again, she had been asked to work on later, having a large sack of mail plumped down on her table. She sighed as she began loosening the strings to open up the bag, allowing piles of the letters to pour out in front of her. Lifting up the first few letters, she began to flick through them, reading the contents of each. They were much the same as she had been reading for weeks now and she was sad to say that she was somewhat becoming immune to it all. As she lifted each letter in turn, one in particular caught her eye. It had no envelope and was just a single paged letter. Lifting it up, she turned it over to examine both sides, hoping to find an address. The hand writing was neat and as she read over it, taking in the senders words, she could understand that they were writing to a family member. It was also clear that he wasn't the only one in his family that was at war. Pulling the sack towards her, Emily started pulling out large piles of letters, trying desperately to find an open envelope that would match the letter. Looking around, she was aware that she was alone, so lifting the bottom of the sack, she tipped the full contents over the table, being careful not to let any of the letters fall onto the floor. Picking up each letter individually, she looked through them until she finally got through them all. Having placed them all back in the bag, she sank back onto her stool, somewhat deflated at being unable to fit the corresponding envelope. Emily lifted the letter back up and started reading it more thoroughly. As she reached the end, she noted it had been signed off by the name 'Thomas' and his regiment details were noted underneath. Getting to her feet, Emily took a few paces before she reached the storage cupboard. Pushing open the door, she lifted a few sheets of blank paper, an envelope and a pen. She made her way back to her desk and took a seat, placing the paper in front of her. Taking a deep breath, she began writing.
May 13 1916
Dear Thomas,
I know you may find this strange, but please hear me out.
My name is Emily and I work within the Birmingham mail sorting office. Today (April 3rd), I came across your letter which unfortunately seemed to have come apart from its envelope, after being routed through London. As a result, I was unable to forward it on. I have kept it safe, so if you are able to send me on the details of the recipient, I will ensure it finds its way to them.
I have to be honest with you that I did read your letter. Although, I do have to do this with all letters, but I found yours particularly emotional and I just wanted to ensure that it reached your family. Its clear to me that you are all going through a very trying time at the moment. I don't have much room for comparison as no one in my immediate family have been directly affected. My father died a few years ago and my siblings are too young to fully understand what is happening.
I hope this letter finds you safe and well. You speak of having difficulty sleeping at night, and I do hope this has somewhat subsided.
I hope you do not think it rude of me to contact you this way.
Kind Regards,
Emily
Tommy had read the letter over and over again and couldn't help but feel slightly amused and impressed by the senders tenacity. He could only imagine the envelope had gotten lost after being routed to Birmingham, otherwise it would never have gotten there. What was more surprising to him was glancing over her address which she had written on the back of the envelope and at the foot of her letter. He recognised the street as one based in a small town about ten minutes from Small Heath. Reading over her words, he was surprised by the empathy she had shown to a complete stranger and without really thinking about it, Tommy found himself pulling out his notepad and responding to her.
June 1 1916
Emily arrived home after another long day. She felt physically exhausted after having spent fourteen hours at the sorting office and then minding her siblings until her mother arrived home. Finally stepping foot into the quietness of her own flat was like nirvana. Pressing her back up against the now closed door, she allowed her eyelids to relax and she took a deep breath. Taking a step, she started to walk down the hallway when a crumpling noise stopped her. Looking down, her eyes fell upon the yellow stained letter sticking out from under her heeled boot. Reaching down, she picked the letter up and glanced over the hand writing. Her breath suddenly caught in her throat as she recognised it. Rushing through to the living room, she poured herself a drink and took a seat in her large red armchair. Kicking off her boots, she tucked her feet under her legs, allowing her skirt to drape over them. Pausing for a second, she examined the writing again, somewhat surprised that he had even bothered to respond. But then, remembering she had asked for the forwarding address for the previous letter, Emily convinced herself that was all that would be included. Picking her letter opener up from the table beside her, she slipped it across the top of the envelope, bursting it open. Unfolding the piece of paper, she began to read.
Dear Emily,
I wish to thank you for ensuring my letter did not go astray. It is not often that one finds another person willing to go out of their way for someone else. Can you please forward it on to my Aunt Polly. Her address is written on the back of this letter. I know she must be worried at the fact she will not have heard from me for some time so I'm sure that letter will give her some comfort. As you p icked up from my letter, my two brothers are also stationed in France. They left some time before me. I have managed to exchange some letters with them but not as much as I would like. I will be honest, it is pleasant to hear from someone else. Someone not directly connected to my family. Surprisingly, looking at your address, you do not seem to live too far away from them. As you will see from Polly's address, we all live in Small Heath. I do hope to get back there soon. I don't think any of us were expecting to be here for so long. It has almost been six months that I have been stationed here, and yet, I do not feel as if I had a home anywhere else. Sadly, it feels as though this has always been my home. As of yet, I have not been sent to the Front, something I am grateful for, however being here when our men come back injured it just as difficult to deal with.
Tell me more about what is going on at home. Polly doesn't tell me much. I think she is concerned I will find it too difficult to read.
Thank you for sending your regards about my sleeping pattern. Unfortunately, it hasn't been any better. It is still difficult to find any sleep here, but I live in hope.
I hope to hear from you again.
Thomas.
Folding the letter up, Emily held it to her heart. He seemed so lost where he was. Looking at the address of his Aunt, she knew she couldn't break her promise and would arrange to get his original letter to her. But also, she hoped they could continue conversing. If her letters made him feel any better about where he was, then who was she to prevent that.
June 19 1916
"Shelby. Thomas Shelby. Letso. William Letso"
The sound of someone yelling pulled Thomas rudely from his slumber.
"Whaaa…." He murmured, lifting his head from the pillow and rubbing his eyes. He could sense the room was still relatively dark indicting that dawn hadn't yet broken.
"Shelby! Letso!"
Finally recognising the voice as his sergeant, Thomas quickly climbed down the steps of his bunkbed, missing the last three as he jumped to the floor, his heels clicking together and his right hand flying up to the side of his face. "Yes, Sir." He saluted, recognising his colleague standing across from him.
"Both of you need to go to the Colonel's office immediately."
Nodding and saying nothing else, They quickly pushed their boots on and made their way along the long corridor. Glancing at each other, Thomas shrugged as he knocked on the door. He felt tense, he couldn't help it. He knew this was bad news. He had been building his way through the ranks, but he knew that to get any further, he would need to be involved directly in the conflict. Having been to Verdun to support the Allies, it was the closest he had gotten to any fighting.
"Come in."
Pushing the door open, both men marched into the room and saluted, not making direct eye contact with their superior.
"Get your things ready gents. You're going to the front."
June 20 1916
"Dear Thomas,
I wanted to assure you I had forwarded on your letter to your Aunt Polly. I hope she has managed to contact you by now.
Its funny how when travelling, you tend to not think of home. You enjoy the time you have away, and don't give it a second thought. Yet, I can only imagine that you long for the days of being home. Being truthful, you aren't missing out on too much. You're right, I am only a short distance from Small Heath. I was in the town yesterday visiting family. I wonder if I passed your Aunt Polly. Wouldn't that be funny?
I have been trying to pass the days here by taking on some additional duties but unfortunately, life is not at its most exciting in a mail sorting office. I long to do more. To help with the cause. I used to work as a nurse when I lived in London and I miss it terribly. I sometimes think back to the people I left behind in the hospital and wonder what ever became of them. I remember one patient in particular, Mrs Brown. She was living with consumption and had been in the hospital for some time. I sometimes wonder if she is still with us.
I hope everything is going as well as it can for you and you have managed to sleep. I hope to hear from you again.
Emily"
As she sealed the envelope and placed a stamp on it, she thought long and hard before she would post it. It seemed strange to her to even consider writing back to him. She had argued with herself since receiving his last correspondence a week previous. She had done what she set out to do and sent on his letter. Why did she still feel the need to contact him? She thought back to the message he had sent to her and remembered him asking her to write back. Who would she be to deny him that?
Leaving the letter by her door, she made her way through to her bedroom and climbed into bed. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine what Thomas looked like. Was he tall or short? Did he have dark hair or blond? Was he handsome? Shaking her head to herself, she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind and forced herself to fall asleep.
June 28 1916
The ground was made of chalk soil and came away easily when tunnelling down. Tunnels had been being dug under No Mans Land for some time and Thomas and William joined the group to continue digging, with the aim of planting mines under the German front lines. A large number had already been planted and the aim was to blow them all on July 1st. Listening intently to the ground surrounding him, Thomas lifted his hand, signalling for the others to quieten down. They did so immediately until he nodded his head briefly and they resumed. They had been under ground for hours and the lack of fresh air was making him light headed, but he continued. It was imperative the mines were planted in plenty of time and he wasn't about to let his battalion down.
