Author's Note: Hello, and welcome to the next chapter of the Poppy Field! I realise it is late than I had planned, but hopefully you will enjoy it.
This time, I'm doing it a bit different- this is a chapter that involves mainly America and Canada. The reason I wanted to do it like this is because I noticed that I cannot really cover as much as I'd like to of the destruction and sheer scale of the war and, seeing as America is neutral- for now- he is a good way to see what else was happening.
I hope you enjoy this chapter!
~Anonymous Lily
Chapter Seven: The Interlude
Washington D.C, United States, 1914.
Alfred glanced from place to place, listening absent-mindedly at the chatter that filled the post office. His usual sparkling optimism had dulled with the declaration of war back in August, leaving him with a persistent ache of worry, dimming the spark.
Around him, cold, irritable people stood like penguins, huddled in groups and collectively grumbling from the cold. Outside, it was barely light enough to see the cityscape that had been created only a few years before; clearly Washington was under the harsh grip of winter. Somewhere, a baby gurgled, despairingly audible despite the whistling gale on the streets.
Today was the day when Alfred was supposed to be getting a letter from Matthew, who had gone to the Western Front in September. The Canadians had been quite eager to set off in order to help the British, his brother included.
He had always been a bit closer to Arthur than me, Alfred reflected, tapping his foot on the floor as he waited for the queue to finally move. He pulled his fur-lined jacket inwards to his chest to try and conserve his heat.
His stomach grumbled.
Next to him, a woman checked her gloves, frowning severely. A feathered red hat was perched atop her head, framing her angular face and curly, chestnut-brown hair. A large bag was looped on one arm, while a newspaper was cradled in the other
"For goodness sake," she grumbled, "Why is this taking so long?" The title of the paper she was holding caught Alfred's eye: 'Austro-Hungarians enter Belgrade'.
They've entered Belgrade already? Alfred wondered, Matt never mentioned that. If the weakest of the Central Powers managed to complete their goal in this short of a time... I hope they're okay.
It was hard sometimes to be an onlooker, especially in such a large conflict. The chaotic events taking place in the world almost felt like something fictional, they were too big to be true. Scarborough was bombed; another village was flattened by shells; the Middle East joins the war so that Central and Entente alike can snatch any resources they can...
And then somewhere in the mix, there are young men and women, just trying to survive in a world of madness. The confusion had been having a negative affect on Alfred's well-being as it is, he could only imagine what it was like for a warring nation- especially one used as a battlefield.
And they say it'll be over by Christmas! Alfred remarked. His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden arrival of the post office assistant.
"Mr Jones! Here is your letter, from Mr Matthew Williams." he chirped, plastering a chipper smile onto his nervous face.
"Thanks, buddy." Alfred said, flashing a warm smile and pushing his way through the disgruntled crowd.
It was now noon and the sun was piercing through the December cloud. Alfred was sitting in one of his favourite cafés, letter in hand and a coffee on the recently-polished table. The paper felt rough against his hands, with ink blotches and little doodles on one side. There was a particularly detailed sketch of a bear, folded in half during the construction of the envelope- the visible eye staring.
Despite his worry, Alfred smiled softly, reminiscing a time when Matthew would draw at meetings, his face screwed up in thought as his floppy, dirty-blond hair blew across his face.
"I wonder what's happening on Matt's end." he said, peeling open the envelope and reading its contents:
Dear Alfred,
How are you getting on? I hope you're okay back there, because it is getting a bit chaotic on the other side of the Atlantic.
Things are going fairly well on the Western Front, we're holding our ground against the Germans, which is good. They almost broke through the line recently, but the Brits managed to stop them before they did any major damage! That, at least, is a positive of this whole situation. Not that I want to leave, my men are needed here, but it isn't all it's cracked up to be.
To be honest, the trenches stink to high heaven, which is ironic, seeing as how there is enough water in them to turn the Sahara green- shame it's not clean! A lot of the men here are getting sick, their feet are rotting in their boots. Honestly, I would like to take a bit of a break, but it's probably not going to happen at the moment- we're trying to get this done for Christmas.
In other news, we found Anri in Bruges. Apparently, Ludwig injured her when his troops invaded and she was found by one of the survivors of the attack. Luckily, Arthur managed to find her and take her to a British hospital. Her men, led by the King of Belgium, are coping quite well, considering the reduced amount of men in her armies. She's now fighting with Arthur, Francis and I (The South African, Indian and ANZAC forces are here too, but I haven't seen any of the Nations yet.).
By the way, did you hear about the Austro-Hungarians at the Serbian Front? From what I have heard, they have managed to get across the border. Ivan says that he's having trouble getting help there but he is pushing the Austrians back, they have taken Przemyśl again this month.
Anyway, I must go away now, my regiment are going to be fighting in the morning.
Write back, won't you, ideally before Christmas?
Matthew
P.S: Thanks for the chocolate!
Alfred looked up, his coffee now tasted cold and bitter on his tongue. Checking his pocket-watch, he gasped. I need to meet that Grey fellah now!
Folding the letter into his pocket, he hurriedly slipped a dollar bill under the cup and dashed out into the frost-like cold.
Author's Note: My most heartfelt apologies for not getting this out sooner, the laptop broke and so I missed a week. Nevertheless, I am quite pleased with the results. Although, there are some things that I am not sure about, such as social cues in post offices and Alfred in general- he has been the hardest character to write so far.
(I realise now that this is the second time that I have written a chapter centring around someone reading a letter and possibly the third to have newspapers- mind you, they were a very influential form of media back then, so I guess it is understandable.)
Hopefully, the next chapter will be out soon...
Thank you for reading,
~Anonymous Lily
P.S: Happy holidays, readers!
