Our Girl – What Happened Next?

The trumpet began to sing at Brize Norton, as the coffin was lifted to rest on the shoulders of those that knew Georgie best. It was an eventuality that her family had been told about when she first joined the army all those years ago, but never did they think that their little girl would be brought home from Afghanistan in a box, with a Union Jack placed proudly on top. It was something they saw on the news, on films even, but not in real life. Not to their girl. Not to Georgie Lane.

Her mum, dad, and sisters Marie and Lou stood, watching on, their body's stiff with grief and torment. They remembered how Georgie had felt when it was Elvis being carried across the tarmac. Now it was their turn. There were whimpers being drowned out by the whistling of the wind, and tears that dropped, almost in slow motion, to the ground. Marie and Lou, and Georgie's mum were crumbling, disintegrating into the arms of their husband and father, whilst he himself was visibly broken from the inside out. A glazed look in his eyes, like he was distant, like he had taken himself off to happier times of the whole family together. But he was there. Much to his dread.

Fingers was following the coffin, walking behind the sister-in-law that had become a sister to him, much before his marriage to Marie. It had hit him hardest out of the troop, he had served 4 tours with Georgie, each of them giving him something to remember her by, whether good or bad.

His uniform was pristine, boots polished, and medals gleaming, but this was no representation of what was going on in his mind. Quite the opposite in fact. Ever since that day, he had struggled to get the pictures out of his mind. He had woken up in pools of sweat in the night, believing it to be her blood that he was knelt in as he looked over her body. He had become distant, and no longer enjoyed 'bantering with the lads' or watching the football in their downtime. The regular FaceTime calls to new wife Marie and the family had suddenly stopped, as he couldn't face the family, even though he knew they would hold nothing against him. He was trapped in a bubble of what ifs and self-loathing. He blamed himself. He had made a promise, and he had broken it.

The coffin was placed carefully into the funeral car, and it began to drive slowly away. The family had decided to travel to the funeral all together, in a separate car. Georgie's mum and dad, Lou, and Marie all climbed into the car, before Marie gave Fingers the look to join them. It had been cleared by the commanding officers, and Fingers marched solemnly over, before removing his hat and getting inside.

The cars soon approached the church, bells ringing, and a flag at half-mast outside, waving gently in the wind. The service was hard. The hardest thing any of them had ever had to do. Burying Georgie's fiancé was a difficult day, but this was tenfold. It was a near impossible task. To admit that she would never polish her boots in the kitchen again, making a mess on the floor, or that she would never come home and tell them that she was going away again, them tearing up at the thought of not seeing her for another 6,12, maybe 18 months, even that she would not scream in the middle of the night, after having a night terror about Elvis, them sitting on the end of the bed, comforting her back to sleep. She had gone.

'Our girl has gone' they sobbed.