Opening the wardrobe, Alfred racked most of the clothes aside until he reached the blazer, tie, shirt and trousers kept in a cellophane bag on a coat-hanger. Carefully taking it out, he took the transparent bag off and laid it on his bed before returning to the wardrobe.
Next, he took out his best shoes – almost as old as he was and in far better condition. They were set down equally careful precision at the foot of the bed.
Finally Alfred went to his bedside table, moved it to one side and then picked up the edge of the carpet until it revealed a blatantly loose floorboard. Lifting the floorboard out, he reached in and took out an extremely old shoebox. Inside the shoebox, individually wrapped in layers of cotton wool, were six shiny medals. Three of them for distinguishing conduct of one kind or another. He should be proud.
Should be.
Except there was a price paid for each medal, and for each time and for each medal the price was too high. A price far too expensive for the pocket and heart of Alfred Pennyworth.
The Victoria Cross: awarded for facing down and single-handedly destroying an enemy tank. Of course it was single-handed – nearly everyone else was either dead or maimed by that tank.
The Distinguished Conduct Medal: awarded for the heroic rescue of two wounded officers, one doctor and twenty-two women and children from a first aid post under heavy enemy fire. At the expense of the life of two nurses and a young boy whose bodies were so mutilated by machineguns that there wasn't enough left of them for a single coffin between them.
The Military Medal: awarded for brave capture of two machine gun posts in a single day. Painfully paid for with the lives of half of his platoon.
The Korea Medal: given to all British soldiers who spent a service period of at least one day on the strength of a unit serving in Korea. Given to the young corporal after spending two years of his life fighting for his life and sanity in a foreign land.
The United Nations Korean War Medal: also given to all soldiers serving for at least a day on the strength of a unit in Korea. Another medal for two years of war, as if it made it better.
The Malaya General Service Medal: awarded for service of at least one day on the strength of a unit serving in said country during the Malayan Emergency. Paid for with yet another two years of watching friends and strangers die in jungles.
Why did he continue to keep them, if the memories they sparked were so painful? Why was he preparing to go to the cenotaph this morning, to stare and pray in front of a memorial of murdered friends and family? He was not the masochist that Master Bruce was.
The answer was the same for both questions. The only way to stay sane in the face of it all was to remember why they fought and died. To remember their common cause and kinship in war.
And to honour it as he honoured their memory.
