France, 1917
He wanted to see her face one more time. His shaking hand reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph she had made for him just before he left. She was the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Her smile filled his heart with warmth and hope that somehow, he and her brother might survive this. Her brother, Darren, had been the only reason he had enlisted in the first place.
As soon as the war began Darren jumped at the chance to join against his family's wishes. He went to the nearest recruiting station and being only 17 he knew they wouldn't take him so he lied about his age. His sister, Carina, was overcome with fear and sadness that her brother would be killed so he enlisted shortly after and promised her that he would look after Darren. That was almost three years ago if he remembered correctly.
"Come on Jack, not again," Darren said standing next to him the muddy trench. "That's the hundredth time today you've stared at that photograph."
Jack slid the photo back into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes, giving one to Darren. "Well if I die, I want your sister to be the last and first thing I have in my head," he replied, lighting the cigarette for him.
Darren rolled his eyes. "Dear god..."
They both chuckled a bit. There wasn't much to find to laugh about these days though. The war was dragging on and everyone was tired and miserable. Jack looked around and saw the rest of the soldiers standing around, rifles in hand, either talking or smoking or trying to joke.
"I miss her too," Darren said. "And father and mother. Our home…my nice warm bed. Three meals a day-"
"Alright now stop it," Jack interjected. "You're getting me more homesick than I already am."
Darren didn't take offense, but he did stop.
"Jack," a voice called out to him.
Jack turned and saw an older heavier bearded soldier carrying a set of bagpipes.
"Tavish," Jack shouted and walked over to meet him. When they met Jack held out his hand, but Tavish immediately hugged him.
"Jacky my boy, how are you doing," Tavish asked.
"Tired, scared…nothing out of the ordinary."
"I hear you lad." Tavish slapped Jack on the back. "But you shouldn't be scared not with me here. I'll play you boys over the top into Jerry's trench with these pipes."
Jack smirked. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a few weeks."
"Ah, I took a bullet a few weeks ago. Didn't do much damage so I convinced them to let me come back to you boys."
"Well, I'm glad you're here Tavish," Jack smiled.
"Me as well you old Scottish bastard," Darren said as he walked up.
Tavish let out a laugh and embraced Darren as well. "Good to see you too, boy."
Jack looked up at the cloudy gray sky. He was happy to see his friend again but something didn't feel right. He had felt like that most of the day and he just couldn't shake it. He glanced down at his watch. "We'd best get back," Jack said. "It's almost time."
"Alright Jack, good luck to you. I'll be right with you and the lads," Tavish smiled.
Tavish was always one to try and keep up moral. He was friendly and as hopeful as any human could be and that counted for a lot. Their unit stayed strong and stuck together and a large part of the reason for it was because of him.
Jack and Darren walked back to their positions and leaned up against the trench wall. Everyone was scared and nervous. They had taken a heavy beating the past few weeks and it was starting to wear. Jack could see Major Winston heading their way. He tall slender man with a pencil thin mustache and had a famous 'by the book' attitude. He wasn't the most liked, but the men couldn't pick and choose.
"Alright, when we go over same as always stay near but not too close and watch each other's backs," Jack said to Darren.
"I'll see you on the other side," Darren replied.
Winston approached Jack and he stood at attention as fast as he could. "Sergeant Evan's, are your men ready," the Major asked.
"Yes sir, the lads are ready to go," Jack replied.
"Good, very good," Major Winston smiled. He looked at his watch and shouted out, "Get into position!"
Jack could hear the order being given out through the trenches as it was shouted from platoon to platoon. Jack and his squad readied up against the trench wall. One hand gripped on the trench ladder and his other gripped his rifle. He looked to his right and he could see Tavish readying his bag pipes. Every second seemed like forever. The Major pulled his whistle from around his neck, eyes still on his watch and blew.
Tavish quickly gathered his courage and began to play "The Battle of the Somme" on his bagpipes and the men yelled a war cry as they climbed over the top of the trench. Jack heart was pounding in his head as adrenaline coursed through his body as he began to run in the direction of the German trench. The German machine guns and rifles began firing and men were dropping left and right. Jack began sprinting to the German trench along side his men. He looked to see Darren running to his left but just at the right distance.
The bagpipes paused but only for a moment as Tavish made his way out of the trench to follow the men. The bagpipes began to play again and Jack could feel himself filled with something. Was it bravery or fear or both? The men had nearly reached the halfway point and then everything fell apart. The whistling of incoming artillery filled the air, and the men began to panic. They had been told the German's had no artillery the day before which gave most of them a bit of hope that this attack could be pulled off and now that hope was dissipating.
The shells began to land and exploded all around them. He saw the men began to dive to the ground, some began to turn back and the others rushed forward. He stopped when he saw his men trying to take cover where there was none. He ran over to them and began to pull them up. "Get up," he shouted. "Go damn it!"
He saw Darren on the ground in a fetal position. He was screaming so loud Jack could hear him over the explosions. He rushed over to Darren and began to pull him to his feet.
"Come on, don't quit," Jack shouted. "One more push and were closer to home! Come on! I got you!" Jack helped him up and Jack could see the fear and the tears in his eyes.
"I'll get you back home, I promise," Jack shouted. Darren nodded and they both began to run.
Jack could barely hear the bagpipes playing anymore over the noise of gunfire and explosions. He looked back and through the clouds of dirt he could see Tavish marching on playing the pipes trying to rally the men forward. Jack tried to keep his courage up as he saw his friend bravely moving his way up but that courage was soon shattered. Tavish's head snapped back as it was struck with a bullet. The bagpipes dropped to the ground and he fell face down in the mud.
The explosions seemed to be intensifying. The men began to turn and run. He could hear the call for retreat. He looked to his own men, and he saw all that was left was Darren. Everything that could go wrong had. The sharp shrilling sound of the Majors whistle broke the air and everyone began to retreat. "Fall back," he shouted to Darren as he turned. Darren quickly turned about and he and Jack sprinted as fast as they could back to their trench. As they got close, they could see the other men motioning for them to hurry up.
Darren had gotten ahead of Jack but he kept yelling for him to keep running. He had to make sure Darren got back. Jack felt a powerful force shove him to the side. His rifle was slung from his hands and he landed in the mud. His ears rang and his head pounded. He could feel liquid, thick and warm, pouring down the left side of his face and over his eye. He began to stand up but immediately dropped back to the ground.
He let out a cry of pain when he dropped. He could feel something sticking out of his left side. He lay on his back on the muddy ground. This is it, he thought. Carina I'm sorry. I tried my best. He tried to hold back the tears and he could feel unconsciousness wanting to take him. He felt hands around his ankles and his body being dragged across the ground. He could already feel himself slipping away. It was over and he knew it. He closed his eyes and everything went dark.
Jack woke to a young pretty red-haired woman in a dirty blue blouse and a brown skirt changing a bandage on his head. He let out a groan and she was slightly startled. "Oh sorry," she apologized. "I didn't know you were awake."
"Uh…where am I," Jack asked trying to sit up.
"No don't sit up," she ordered. "You're in the field hospital. We set up in town several miles away from the trenches."
Jack looked around and he saw all the other beds filled with wounded soldiers and he realized the field hospital was in a church. He moved slightly and winced in pain. He saw a bandage wrapped around his waist. He could see that blood was slightly weeping through on the left side. "What happened to me," he asked her.
"You were knocked unconscious by a shell. They had to take a bit of shrapnel out and stich you up. You had a nasty cut on your forehead as well. You're lucky," she replied. Jack could see she looked exhausted and he could see the sadness in her eyes.
"Thank you," he said. "For taking care of me."
She gave a slight smile. "It's alright."
"I know it must be a lot to deal with all of this," Jack said. "And it takes brave person to do it."
She let out a chuckle. "Ha…brave I am not. Compassionate, stupid maybe. But not brave." She leaned over to check the bandage around his waist and Jack saw the necklace around her neck. It was a leather strap with a bright blue stone hanging from it that seemed to resonate light or maybe it was the morphine playing with his mind.
"What's your name," he asked.
"Iris," she sighed. "Yours?"
"Jack."
"Well Jack it's nice to meet you unfortunately it couldn't be under better circumstances."
Jack smiled a bit. "So where are you from?"
Iris paused for a moment. "I'm not from anywhere really," she replied. "I mean…I had a home. My father was I guess you could say a soldier. He wasn't a good man. He gave me and my mother away to serve the-" she stopped for a moment and continued. "To serve a horrible powerful woman. He was killed and I and my mother practically became slaves. My mother died shortly after and I managed to get away and ended up here. When the war came, I volunteered to help with the wounded. I couldn't just do nothing." Jack could see the pain in her eyes. He had questions but quickly decided to leave it alone.
"That's a lovely necklace," he said.
She looked down at the stone hanging from the leather strap around her neck. "Oh this-this was a gift," she said hastily. "From an old flame of mine."
"Lucky man," Jack smiled.
"Well, do you have anyone waiting for you," she asked, changing the subject.
Jack pointed to his dirty blood-stained uniform shirt sitting on a chair next to his bed. She picked it up, reached into the pocket and pulled out the photo of Carina.
"She's beautiful," Iris said.
"She is," Jack smiled. "We are supposed to get married when I return home. I enlisted to look after her brother." Darren…where was he? Was he alive? Jack thought to himself.
"I hope you get home to her," Iris said. When she picked up his shirt to put the photo back a piece of metal fell out of the other pocket. She picked it up and saw it was a medal. "What kind of medal is this," she asked.
"It's a Victoria Cross," he replied. "I got it a few months ago."
"You must have done something very brave to have gotten this."
Jack looked down for a moment. "I try not to talk about it."
"I'm sorry," she said, putting the medal and the photo back.
"It's alright," he assured her. "Iris, did you happen to see a young soldier, short with black hair come in here with me? If he's here I'd like to see him."
"Yes, I do. He's the one who brought you in actually. I'll be back in a moment," she said.
She got up and was gone for a few minutes and returned with Darren in tow. "Jack you're alright," he said happily.
"Mostly," Jack smiled.
"I'll give you two time to talk," Iris said picking up the roll of bandages and her scissors of a nearby table. "I'll check on you later."
Darren starred at her behind as she walked away. "Who is she," he asked, struck by the woman's looks.
"Iris, one of the nurses. She's a bit strange though and stop staring for god's sake," Jack said.
Darren's turned to look at Jack, face slightly red from embarrassment. "What do you mean strange," he asked.
"She says she calls no country home and her father was a soldier who died in battle. Whose side was he on I wonder?"
"Who knows. Maybe she's French or Belgian?"
"I don't know. She speaks damn good English if she is. But enough of that. Are you alright?"
"Made it without a scratch but I don't know how," Darren smiled. "I thought there wasn't supposed to be any artillery?"
"I thought so too. Wouldn't be the first time the Major lied to us about something. He's so damn head strong about winning this war he'd sacrifice every company to do it."
"At least you won't have to be worried about being sacrificed anytime soon. I'll be going back tomorrow. They're letting me stay here tonight."
"Well, I'll go back with you."
"No, you won't. You'll stay here and heal up," Darren ordered. "Can't have my future brother-in-law bleeding out on me because his sutures came loose."
Jack knew there was no arguing.
"I'll see you before I leave in the morning, and I'll come back in a few days. Time will go by so fast you'll never know I was gone here. It'll be like magic," he smiled.
"Yea, like magic," Jack repeated.
"Rest up mate," Darren said. "I'll see you in them morning."
Jack said goodbye and Darren walked away. Jack lay back in his bed and looked up at the ceiling. Something about Iris didn't sit right. But what does it matter? After he's well it'll be back to front lines, and he'll probably never see her again.
