Author's Note: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean nor any of the characters. I only own the plot to the story and few characters which are my own.
Summary: World War 1 Slow Burn Au. Will Turner returns home to England after four horror filled years on the Western Front. Trying to peace back together his broken life. A chance at a new life comes in the form of a job on a country estate in Surrey.
AN Reviews and Feedback are greatly appreciated. The Character Charlie Bellingham is loosely based off the 346 British and Commonwealth Soldiers who where executed by firing squad during the war. Three hundred and nine where posthumously pardoned years later.
Chapter 3
Somme, France
1st July 1916
I sat on an ammo crate bring the bolt of my Enfield back. I loaded a five round magazine into the chamber I had an another five round magazine on the bottom.
"Sarge" Private Owens appeared nervously in front of me.
"What is it Owens" I say
"You've been over the top before haven't you" He asked.
"Yes" I tensely answered bringing the bolt back to the correct position. I moved to remove my bayonet from it's scabbard on my hip.
"So what it's like" Owens questioned.
"You don't want to think about it. Keep your mind on the job" I dismissed.
"No Sarge, I mean is it scary"
"Yes it is" I levelled with him. "You don't have much time to be frightened for long a second maybe two at most" I explained as the artillery barrage continued over head like it had for the past several days.
Elliot Captain Monroe's secretary was handing out of bottles of Scotch to calm the other lads nerves as we waited before we went over the top.
I waved Elliot away as he came forth with an empty cup and bottle of Scotch. "No thanks Private" I answered.
"Not having a drink Sargent. Not even on a day like today" Captain Richard Monroe appeared. Monroe had been my commander officer since the we arrived in France almost two years ago. Had it really been that long.
"No Sir. I'd rather keep my head clear for when we go over the top" Looking around at so many clean cut and young faces. Of men no more like boys who where far to young to be in this hell they called a war.
"That's the last of it Sir" Elliot said to Monroe.
"Good then you can go back to reserves" I heard Monroe say to Elliot.
"No sir I'm coming with you. Who's going to fetch your tea Sir" Elliot said with youthful naivety. The poor bastard didn't know what he was in for when we went over the top. Now the lads that did know what to expect, where those that had been with the Battalion for a while.
"Very well then"
There was pushing and shoving at both ends of the trench as the ladders where brought forwards to placed against the wall of trench.
A hush fell over the Battalion as the barrage continued.
"Give the order Sargent Turner" Captain Monroe nodded to me.
"Fix Bayonets" I orders.
The Battalion fixed their bayonets. Bellingham was sick throwing up. Most likely from nerves.
"I can't do it Fred. I don't want to die" Bellingham cried to his mate. Lance Corporal Frederick 'Fred' Davis.
"Pull yourself together Charlie" Lance Corporal Davis grabbed Bellingham's bayonet from it's scabbard placing it on Bellingham's rifle.
"I can't do it Fred"
"Mate you got to. You don't go over the top with us. Captain Monroe will shot you. Now pull yourself together Charlie" Bellingham's feelings about not wanting to die. Was something that we all shared. But we where soldiers. We had a job to do.
"Everything alright Davis" I asked.
"Yes Sarge. He just nervous" Davis turned to me.
"Try to keep him calm Davis. Not long know" I turned to walk further down the trench. I came to as stop to stand beside Owens.
"We got up together Owens. You stay beside me"
"Yes Sargent" Owens answered.
Waiting for the order to go over the top was the worst part. The barrage was still continuing to pummel the German Trenches.
"You alright" I asked Owens who had a photo and bible clutched in his hand as he prayed.
"I'm fine Sargent. That's my girl Florence she works in the pub with her folks."Owens showed me the photo of his sweetheart back home.
"Pretty Girl" I mused.
"You got anyone waiting for you back home Sarge"
"No I don't" I shook my head. Suddenly the barrage stopped. It was only matter of minutes before the order was given.
"Over the Top" Monroe whistled
The first wave clambered up the ladders only to be cut down by machine gun fire. I was half way up the ladder. I didn't see Owens beside me on either side. I glanced over my shoulder. He and Bellingham where both shaking with fear. The dead bodies of Captain Monroe and the still not dead Lance Corporal Davis.
He had a massive hole in his neck where his throat had once been. He was convulsing as bleed spurted from the gaping wound.
"Owens, Bellingham. Get up these ladders now" I ordered. Owens snapped out of it picking up his rifle. While Bellingham stood there rotted to the spot as he watched his mate die before his eyes.
"Get up now Bellingham" Came the snotty voice of the now first in command First Lieutenant Rupert Blackwood-Reed. "Get up or I will shoot you" He bellowed.
I shot a glance to Owens.
He pulled Bellingham to his feet handing him his rife. Before they both went up the ladders with me.
Reed was bellowing orders as was Second Lieutenant Blackthorn and Hughes. We fought our way through no man's land. Men falling left and right of us. We where being battered by both machine gun and German Artillery Fire.
We made our way through the wire.
"SARGE" I heard someone call to me glancing over my shoulder Owens was caught on the wire.
'Fuck Sake' I swore to myself as I back tracked. Removing my bayonet from the front of my Enfield
Before I could get to him. Owens was hit by German Machine gun fire.
I cut him free from the wire. I tried not to wince at what remained of the lads stomach. The machine gun fire had torn the poor bastards insides to shreds.
"I anit going to make it back Sarge. Write to my girl and my folks. Tell em I died fighting" He handed me a blood soaked diary, his bible and photo of his girl Florence.
"I will Owens"
"Can you feel the sun Sarge. It's so warm and bright on my face" He mumbled before he slipped away. I closed his eyes out of respect. I took his identification tags and paybook.
I got to my feet saying a silent pray for Owens and the others who had fallen.
I made my way through the dead and dying to find the rest of the Battalion. I was knocked over by someine crying and running at full pelt. It was Bellingham.
"Bellingham what hell lad" I questioned. As I got to my feet.
"I'm sorry Sargent" He mumbled before running off unarmed.
Swann Estate, Swanson Surrey England
July 1919
I was awoken by the rooster crowing in a new day. For weeks afterwards I'd thought that Private Charlie Bellingham was dead. Till he was found alive several miles away from the front hiding on a farm.
He'd been dragged kicking and scream back for court martial for both Cowardliness and Desertion. Bellingham was guilty of one those charges. He was a scared eighteen year old who had seen his best mate die in front of him with a lot of lads he called friends.
I tried to speak on Bellingham's defence that he should be imprisoned rather then shot at dawn. He was no coward. But my pleas for leniency fell on deaf ears. Three days later at dawn Charlie Bellingham was tied to a post.
A blindfold placed over his head. A white patch placed on his chest. All those on the shooting party had from our Battalion. Myself included none of us wanted to do it. But we had no choice in the matter.
First Lieutenant Rupert Blackwood-Reed was the one would carry out the sentence of Bellingham been shot at dawn for Cowardliness and Desertion. In a matter of seconds it was over.
Bellingham was still alive. Till that was that bastard Reed delivered the killing shot. The cruel bastard was smiling as he shot Bellingham dead. I'd never shedded a tear crying for that bastard who was later killed at the Battle Moval in late September 1916
We buried Bellingham. I wrote home to his family saying he was no cowards but a boy scared out his whits out of his depths. I had no idea if that letter gave any comfort to his family.
I went out for a walk before work started for a day. Breakfast the bare minimum of tea, eggs and a bit of bacon.
I came across two graves sitting by themselves away from the main estate cemetery. The two graves where not well kept. Curiously I went closer for a look. I swept off the leaves of the headstones that read as follows.
Beloved Father, Son, Husband, Brother and Friend.
Captain Oliver Weatherby Thomas Swann Royal West Surrey Regiment MC.
13th October 1888 to 1st July 1916
Aged 28
Forever in Our Hearts.
Beloved Husband, Son, Brother and Friend.
Second Lieutenant Benjamin Edward Swann Royal West Surrey Regiment
23rd August 1891 to 1st July 1916
Aged 24
Forever in Our Hearts.
This would have to be the graves of Lord and Lady Swann oldest two sons. Whom where both killed on the first day of the Battle of Somme. That was one if not the bloodiest day for the British Army on the Western Front.
'In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below
We are the dead
Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn saw sunset glow
Loved and where loved, and now we lie
In Flanders field
Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with who die
We shall no sleep, though the poppies grown
In Flanders field'
I recited the poem I had read many times and knew by heart. It felt appropriate say over the graves of two of my fellow soldiers whom hadn't made it home. When I so many other blokes had made it home.
Elizabeth Swann had making her way to her brothers grave when something stopped her. A man was knelling beside the graves. He was to far away for Elizabeth to hear what he was saying.
As he turned to leave Elizabeth got a good look at him. He was roughly around the age Ben would have been had he lived. He was about six foot perhaps a little taller then that. He was handsome she supposed.
A beard covered the lower half of his face. He had two nasty looking scars on his face. One on his forehead. Another was the right side of his face up near the corner of his eye going down his cheek disappearing into his beard.
Elizabeth watched the man as he left. Before walking over to her brothers empty graves. They where buried somewhere in France.
The family's world had been turned upside down when war declared in August of 1914. Three of her brothers and cousin James enlisted. Like a lot of lads from the Estate and Swanson had.
After word finally reached them about Oliver and Ben dying. Their world was once again turned upside down. Her mother Katherine began to drink quite heavily. Her father Weatherby spent more and more time in London was hardly ever home.
Not much changed after the war ended in November last year. Her father spent hardly anytime at home on the Estate. And Lady Swann still drank quite heavily.
Elizabeth placed two lots of flowers on her older brother's graves. As she did most morning or at least once a week. Standing beside her brothers graves for a while Elizabeth turned heading back towards the house.