There's a mention of soldier becoming injured in this chapter - it's not graphic at all. If you have any concerns, please send me a PM on this site or message me on Tumblr. No anons please - I will only answer privately.
There is a three-month time jump from the previous chapter.
December 1915 - Ypres, Belgium
Blaine
"Are you ready to go, shrimpy? We're due for our briefing in half an hour," Captain Duval reminds him.
"Almost. I've just received a letter from my grandmother, and I want to read it first," Blaine replies.
"You and your letters. I'm still trying to figure out who's the mysterious 'K'. Are you sure it's not Lady Katherine Wilde?" Captain Duval asks, waggling his eyebrows.
Blaine scrunches his nose. "Absolutely not!"
When Captain Duval has left their sleeping quarters, Blaine carefully opens the envelope and takes out the letter. A photograph drops out, and Blaine picks it up and sees that it's Kurt in his RFC uniform. Blaine's heart races as he carefully takes in every inch of the photo. Kurt looks so handsome in the uniform. Kurt's face has thinned out a bit, accentuating his jawline. His eyes are filled with determination, and Blaine realizes that Kurt looks like a man ready to join the war. He adds the photograph to his leather travel wallet, to be studied in much more detail later, and begins to read his grandmama's scrawly handwriting...
20th November 1915
My dearest Blaine,
I had thought I would live out my last years visiting family and peacefully going about my business. How wrong I was! My days are a whirlwind of governors meetings at the village school, the Women's Institute, and the Westerville Hospital. Your mother thinks that I'm the patron of too many organizations and insists that I hand over the Westerville Hospital to her. Over my dead body! What she doesn't seem to appreciate is that I'm not a fragile old lady, and I'm more than capable of handling everything.
As you know, Sebastian returned to the abbey with a head injury. This week, he went back to work as a medic at the abbey's hospital. I sometimes see him outside my bedroom window, helping men with artificial legs learn to walk again. I never took Sebastian to be a patient and caring sort of man. War can do strange things and change people in the most unpredictable ways.
I enclose a photograph of Kurt. Your mother insisted that it be taken before he left for the RFC. One copy is framed and sits proudly on the mantel with the other photographs of the Westerville men fighting in the war. Last week, I had Quinn drive me to Exeter. Whilst she was at her knitting circle, I made a visit to the photography studio. It was simple to order extra copies of Kurt's photograph. I can be sneaky when I need to be!
Hummel receives regular letters from Kurt, who's learning how to fly aeroplanes. You'll certainly never find me in one of those contraptions. I like my feet close to the ground, thank you very much. After his leave next month, Kurt will be in the No 22 squadron stationed somewhere on the continent. You might want to find out if his squadron will be located near you.
I'm counting down the days (29) until you are returning to Westerville on home leave. Seeing you once again in one piece is the only Christmas wish I have. I've already formulated a plan on how you and Kurt can spend some alone time together. It's foolproof! This time, I've really outdone myself, if that's even possible.
Both Cooper and Evans also have home leave for Christmas. Hummel and Mrs Hudson plan to get married a few days after Christmas. I don't usually bother attending servants' weddings, but with all the Westerville men home, it's a real cause for celebration. I'm counting on you to escort me to the church.
Stay safe, and God bless you.
Your ever-loving Grandmama
Blaine wipes a tear from his cheek. His grandmama writes faithfully every week. He checks the time (will he ever get used to his wristwatch?) and places the leather photo wallet and letter into his trunk.
Blaine hears a knock on the door and calls out, "Enter".
Privates Larsen and Morris enter the room.
"Is your trunk ready, Lieutenant Anderson?" Private Larsen asks.
Blaine nods. "Yes, it's filled with enough paperwork to last a lifetime."
Blaine checks in at HQ and sits down with his fellow officers find out about what is going on at the front line.
Major Ashmore begins the briefing. "As you know, it's been quiet on the front these past few weeks. I guess that Germans also have families and are preoccupied with plans for home leave at Christmas."
Blaine laughs with the rest of the officers. It's true that he's been daydreaming about his home leave in a couple weeks' time. It'll be the first time he'll be back at Westerville since the start of the war, and he can't wait to see his family… and Kurt.
"Having said that, the Fritzes are still in their trenches just a few hundred yards away. There have already been two battles fought here, and there's nothing to say that there won't be another. Maintenance is the operative word during your time on the front line for the next few weeks. Your units will need to repair, deepen, widen, and strengthen the trench. In addition, you'll be laying new barbed wire, and your captain has the plans for the positioning. There are new strategic areas that could very well entrap German soldiers. Any questions?"
The room is silent. Blaine counts his blessings that no fighting is anticipated.
"You'll be in the front trench for eight days, then four days at the rest camp. Your captain has the duty roster."
Blaine gets up and collects the relevant papers from Captain Duval. After reading the instructions to ensure that he understands them, he salutes Major Ashmore as he leaves.
"Lieutenant Anderson, I need to speak to you before you head to the front. Please take a seat until everyone has left."
Blaine sits down again, wondering why the Major has singled him out. Once all the other officers are gone, Major Ashmore approaches him.
"I'm pleased to inform you that you've been promoted, Captain Anderson."
"Thank you, sir!" Blaine cries out, delighted with the news.
"It's well deserved, Captain Anderson. You've made the transition from cavalry to infantry quickly, and you've proven yourself time and time again on the battlefield."
"Thank you, Major. Does this mean I'll be transferred from the brigade?"
"To be honest, I don't know. You'll be informed during your home leave."
"Major, if it's all the same, I'd rather stay with this brigade. My men mean a lot to me and…"
"Understood, Captain Anderson. Now you better go find your unit on the front line."
Blaine gives the major a salute. When he leaves the room, Captain Duval is waiting outside for him.
"Congratulations, Captain Shrimpy."
"You know?" Blaine asks.
"Of course I know. I've got your new insignia in my pocket, and a needle and thread packed in my trunk," Captain Duval replies.
A cold gust of wind blows, and Blaine closes the top button of his heavy woolen coat. He follows Captain Duval though the zigzag maze of trenches until they arrive at the front line. His unit's soldiers are waiting for him in front of his dugout.
Blaine addresses his soldiers, "There's no fighting expected during our time at the front. We'll be doing the usual trench maintenance work. We'll go over the top to lay out new barbed wire at some point."
"Lieutenant Anderson, how many sentries will our unit provide?"
"It's Captain Anderson now," Captain Duval interjects.
When the soldiers give him a puzzled look, Captain Duval shows the new insignia to the men and hands it over to Blaine.
"Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray!" the soldiers shout. They slap Blaine's shoulder and shake hands with him before they set off on their duties.
Blaine sets down his pen, takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. Although he's exempt from the tiring manual labor, there are different claims on his time - chiefly, the never-ending paperwork. In addition to dealing with general military bureaucracy, he's also expected to master an ever-growing body of tactical and technical instructions. He knows that this will only increase in his new role as captain.
He pours himself a cup of tea and opens the tin of biscuits that Mrs Sylvester made and sent in the last parcel. He treats himself to two, for it won't be long until he's on leave and he'll be able to replenish his stash of treats. He can't wait to see his family again, and to meet Michael Devon for the first time. But mostly, he can't wait to be back in Kurt's arms.
It's been 16 months since he's last seen Kurt, and their time together is starting to feel like a dream… albeit a very nice one. Although they write each other each week, he longs to see Kurt, to touch him, and reestablish their connection. It's not that his love is fading, because it feels just as strong as ever. But he needs to fill up the well again - make new memories that he can recall and cherish while he's fighting in this war.
Captain Duval enters their dugout, takes off his gloves, and rubs his hands to warm them. "It's bloody cold out there, and tonight we're on barbed wire patrol. The men are getting a nap before we go over the top."
"We? Are you joining us?"
"I've got two units working tonight. Of course I'm going to join you. A captain's job isn't all about paperwork and giving out orders. Sometimes, you need to lead by example."
After a two-hour kip, the captains dress for their nighttime mission. Blaine can't help but rub his scarf on his cheek before putting it around his neck - after all, it was hand-knitted by Kurt. He checks his trouser pocket to ensure that he has the horseshoe lucky charm. He does the buttons up on his coat and puts on his metal helmet. After they have put their boots on, they head out to join their units.
Everywhere is dark and damp on this cold winter's night. Blaine is again thankful that his father insisted on him buying a good pair of boots before he left for the war. His privates carry reels of barbed wire, wooden stakes and other necessary equipment.
Captain Duval consults his map. "Lieutenant Davies, your unit will lay down the barbed wire here. When you're finished, return to the trench.
"Yes, sir!" Lieutenant Davies replies.
Captain Duval continues, "Captain Anderson, your unit will lay down barbed wire 500 yards from here. I'll lead the way."
Blaine and his unit quietly follow Captain Duval until he stops. The privates start pounding the wooden stakes into the frozen ground and wrapping the barbed wire around them. Suddenly, bullets whistle past them.
"Get down, everybody!" Blaine orders.
The soldiers all lie down on the snow-covered ground, shaking with cold and fear. When five minutes have passed without any further gunfire, Blaine looks up to see if there are any casualties. His heart sinks when he sees Captain Duval's arm ensnared in the barbed wire and bleeding.
"Get the medics at once!" Blaine orders.
Two privates crouch down and leave quickly. Blaine goes over to the barbed wire and finds Captain Duval barely conscious. "Stay with me, Captain Duval. Help will soon be on its way. I won't leave you here to die."
A medic and two stretcher-bearers arrive soon after. The large medic takes some cutters from his first aid haversack and quickly begins to set Captain Duval free.
"Get him to the bearing post at once! He needs urgent attention," the medic barks at the stretcher-bearers.
Once Captain Duval is removed from no man's land, Blaine sags with relief that his friend has made it out safely. Usually, it's impossible to disentangle a soldier from the barbed wire without the German snipers' shots killing him. He looks at the medic and asks, "Do you think he'll live?"
The medic nods. "He's got a nasty gunshot wound on his arm, but as long as it doesn't get infected, he'll be okay. Other than that, his shoulder is dislocated. The doctors at the bearing post will fix that."
"You saved his life."
The medic gives a weak smile. "All in the line of duty, Captain."
"What's your name?" Blaine asks. He wants to include this soldier's efforts in his report.
"Sergeant Karofsky."
The rest of the front-line trench duty goes by quickly. There's paperwork to fill out, and he's captain of both units now that Captain Duval has been injured. Blaine doesn't know what he's doing half the time, but his soldiers are working harder than ever to make it easier for him.
Once the fresh troops have arrived, Blaine leads his soldiers through the maze of trenches until they get to the rest camp. The first thing Blaine wants to do is to clean himself. He's made do with a washcloth and cold water during their time in the front trench, but he still feels filthy. He gathers his toiletries and towel, and heads to the barn that has been converted into a bathing house.
There are three large wooden tubs filled with steamy hot water. Each one can accommodate four soldiers. When Blaine joins the queue, the soldiers push him ahead. When the whistle blows and the men bathing get out, Blaine strips off his uniform and hangs it on a nearby hook. He carefully enters the tub and sighs when he feels the hot water envelop his body. He lathers up the soap with his washcloth and scrubs himself until his skin turns pink.
"You smell like my sweetheart," Private Larsen says.
Blaine's cheeks pinken when he realizes that the soldiers in the tub can smell the lavender soap.
"That's sort of the point," Blaine remarks.
"You've got a sweetheart back home?" Private Larsen asks.
"Maybe I do," Blaine replies with a sheepish smile.
"I bet your sweetheart is pretty. Men like you always get the pretty ones," Private Morris says.
"Beautiful is the word I would use to describe my sweetheart," Blaine replies. Images of Kurt's precious face float through his mind. 'Beautiful' still doesn't do Kurt justice. Near-perfect, stunning, captivating, and enticing are a few additional words that come to Blaine's mind.
The whistle blows, indicating the end of the current bathing session. Blaine reluctantly gets out and dries himself off quickly, for the winter air is bitterly cold. He puts on a freshly-laundered pair of underdrawers. Kurt had been right in knowing that he would need so many pairs. Blaine makes a mental note that he needs to figure out ways to thank him for the advice.
Once dressed, Blaine heads to the mess tent for dinner. He detests the Maconochie stew, filled with sliced turnips, carrots, potatoes and small bits of questionable beef in a thin soup, but it fills up his belly. He's already got a list of his favorite foods for Mrs Sylvester to cook when he's at Westerville Abbey for home leave.
Blaine sleeps solidly for 12 hours - the cot is far more comfortable than what he experiences in the front-line trench. After dressing and eating a quick breakfast, he goes to the officers' building to submit his paperwork.
"Ah, Captain Anderson, I'm glad you're here," Major Ashmore greets.
"Do you have any news about Captain Duval?" Blaine asks. He's anxious to hear the latest update about his friend.
"Captain Duval was removed from the barbed wire quickly enough to avoid infection. He's been sent back to Blighty to recover."
"Thank goodness," Blaine replies.
"That's not why I wanted to see you. I was impressed how you seamlessly took over Captain Duval's command at the front line. The soldiers respect you and accepted your authority immediately. The brigadier-general has approved your permanent position as a captain in this troop."
"Thank you, Major Ashmore," Blaine replies.
Blaine's belly is doing flips. He wants to stay with the soldiers whom he's fought side by side with for over a year. Continuing with his troop is a dream come true.
"There's just one slight problem. With Captain Duval out of action, I need you here for the foreseeable future. You'll have to delay your home leave until I can find a relief officer."
"Yes, sir," Blaine replies with every ounce of obedience he can muster.
Major Ashmore continues, "I know that you need a break and you deserve to go back home. I think we all do. I'm looking everywhere for a relief officer, but I'm coming up empty-handed. Every troop is stretched thin with officers taking their leave to coincide with the Christmas and New Year holidays."
"I understand, Major Ashmore. Many of my men haven't had home leave yet. I'll do my best to keep morale high over the Christmas season. Please let me know if a relief officer becomes available. My brother and other Westerville men will be on leave over Christmas."
Major Ashmore replies, "I'm still looking, but don't raise your hopes. The Royal Army is stretched thin enough as it is."
Blaine opens his trunk and takes out the Christmas present he made for Kurt. It's not much, but it's the best that he could do under the circumstances. He found a used shell case and engraved it so that it became a work of art. For the past few months, he's carefully worked on it each night that he was at the rest camp.
He engraved daisies on the shell case because they're Kurt's favorite flower. He hopes that one day it'll be used as a vase, and he can provide a never-ending supply of daisies to fill it. On the bottom and the top, he engraved the unbroken pattern that is also on their promise rings. Blaine knows that it's not perfect, but he hopes Kurt will appreciate the sentiment.
He wraps the shell case in the army issue paper for the post. He had wanted to deliver it in person, but that plan was dashed now that he's taking over Captain Duval's position. He sits down at his desk and pulls out stationery and a pen. He has many letters to write tonight, but he starts with the most important one.
My dearest K,
Don't open the parcel yet - it's your Christmas present. You're now wondering why I've sent it to you by post, and not giving it to you in person. I have some rather unfortunate news - my home leave this month has been cancelled.
I was recently promoted to Captain, which I'm rather pleased about. I so wanted to give you this unexpected but delightful news in person. However, fate decided otherwise.
We were in the front-line trench last week. One night, we were installing new barbed wire in no man's land. Captain Duval was hit by a bullet and fell into the barbed wire. We were able to pry him free, but he's dislocated his shoulder and was shot in the arm. He's now returning to England for surgery and to recuperate.
I've taken over his position in the brigade. Since there are no other captains available to stand in for me this month, I've been told that my home leave is cancelled. I'm needed here, and I can't argue with that.
Since I've learnt that my leave is delayed, I bury my head in the pillow and cry each night. It's not fair that I'm not able to come home after spending over a year fighting on the continent. It's not fair that I haven't met Michael Devon yet. But mostly, it's not fair that all my dreams of spending time with you, of showing you how much I love you, have vaporized into thin air.
When I close my eyes at night, I realize that I probably won't see you until after the war is over. But when will that be? It won't be anytime soon. Both sides are stuck in trenches and making very little advancement. I can't see how the Allies or Germans will have an eventual victory. It's a hopeless situation.
I wish this letter was filled with good news, and sprinkled with amusing anecdotes about my daily life. But K, my heart aches so badly. Please write me soon and comfort me. Tell me you love me, tell me that you'll wait for me. But please, tell me your dreams of what our future will be like. Your loving words and dreams will help me get through this nightmare of a war.
I love you fearlessly and forever.
B
xoxoxo
Author's notes
As I wrote the letter in this chapter, my heart ached for Blaine too!
Many thanks to my fantastic betas, Fearlessly and Lilyvandersteen. I also thank Dblmalfunction, who performed a detailed final review, although all mistakes are mine. I'm HKVoyage on Tumblr.
Next up: Kurt returns to Westerville Abbey on home leave.