Chapter 3: Flashbacks and Schemes
For this chapter, I recommend watching two videos beforehand: First, go on youtube and look up the trailer "Battlefield 1 Apocalypse DLC", this video does a good job of capturing the hopelessness and the horrid fighting in the trenches of the Great War, as well as how 'dirty' it could get and the pace of the action. Next, recommended during the opening scene, look up the Battlefield 1 Apocalypse OST, mostly because I think the music is awesome and techno beats paired with the orchestral parts go really well with the action and the combat of this chapter. These are not things I am holding you to, but something I thought would help increase the emersion into the story and help people picture what it is life for Hiccup in combat. Now, on with the chapter :)
—
"We are not youth any longer. We don't want to take the world by storm. We are fleeing. We fly from ourselves. From our life. We were eighteen and had begun to love life and the world; and we had to shoot it to pieces. The first bomb, the first explosion, burst in our hearts. We are cut off from activity, from striving, from progress. We believe in such things no longer, we believe in war."
- Erich Maria Remarque, "All Quiet on the Western Front"
The putrid, yellow-green cloud rolled over their lines like a sea of death and suffering. It advanced, a yellow, low wall, overcoming the senses and obscuring everything beyond half a yard from one's sight. The screams of the French Colonial troops could be heard from their positions, thousands of men running in terror from the Germans, many gunned down as they tried to escape the trenches filled with chlorine gas.
That was 5-6 pm. Hours later, darkness had fallen, with a pale moon in the cloudless skies above. Hiccup heard there was now a 4-mile gap in their lines. A gap the Canadians would be ordered to fill, no doubt. The same ones he was training in marksmanship.
Just his bloody luck.
It was now 11:00, and as the sergeants of the troops came over to their sections, they announced they'd been ordered to seal the breach in the lines left by the French, specifically attacking a position in a place called Kitchener's Woods. Orders were given to form up. And at 11:46, the order came to advance.
They ran. Ran as hard as they could in the pale moonlight, dirt crunching under their heels, heavy breathing from the men all around. Bayonets were fixed. They were told to expect close quarter combat. They were told to expect casualties.
Halfway, they ran into a strong hedge, which was cleared with their shovels and rifle butts. It was then the Germans opened up on them, the cracks of the bullets whipping all around them, the thunder of the machine guns and rifles from the Germans, the screams of the wounded and the dying. And yet, they advanced, tracers flying towards them like sonic fireflies, some passing through men and dropping them instantly.
They charged the last 200 yards, battle cries and yells heard all around, and Hiccup, throwing his cap off, let out a guttural yell, sprinting with rifle raised and charged into the trench with the Canadians. The mortars behind them sent up illumination rounds, just in time for Hiccup to see the face of the German soldier he just ran his bayonet through. Red light bathed their surroundings, almost as if it was painting the entire scene in blood, but not concealing the features of the German's face.
Young. Even in the red glow of battle, Hiccup could see he had blue eyes. A shocked expression on his face. Mouth twisted into a grimace and eyes clenching shut from the pain. Hiccup couldn't look anymore and removed his rifle and charged on further into the trenches. He bayoneted another, and not wanting to waste time with his rifle, threw it out and grabbed his shovel and knife. He was on autopilot now, survival mode, running through the trenches and striking every German he encountered, the cracks of the rifles still going off, shouts from both sides and officers blowing their whistles, encouraging the men to fight on and take the trench and the wood.
Hiccup was already out of the trenches, running towards their lines, feeling his anger and hatred at the Germans for getting him into this war, running like a madman through the woods, engaging any German he could find. He was backed up by several Canadians, and as they advanced through the woods, they reached another line of trenches. Throwing their grenades into it, they watched them detonate before leaping into the trench, once more into the breach. Fighting for his life, Hiccup struck one soldier with a shovel, then kicked him back to knock over an another, finishing off both of them. Just then, a larger soldier tackled Hiccup, forcing both of them to the ground and relieving Hiccup of his weapons. They both struggled, tossing one another around in the mud, hands reaching and grasping for grip to gain the upper hand, but to no avail for either. Hiccup pushed his hand against the Germans face, trying to drive him away, fighting against the hands threateningly close to his throat. With enough space, he kicked the man off of him, and threw him to the ground, jumping on top of him, and just then another illumination round was sent up, the bright white light illuminating everything around them. All was visible, the empty casings, the wooden breastworks of the trench, the bodies, the rifles and tools strewn around them.
Most horrifyingly, though, it allowed Hiccup to see the face of the man he was fighting. If he could call his enemy that. He wasn't even old enough to be growing facial hair, but that didn't matter to Hiccup at this moment. He grabbed a rock lying nearby, and lifting it over his head with one hand, brought it down to bear on the German boy, screaming his lungs out with each blow.
And when it was over, Hiccup looked up, and he to his surprise and terror, saw another German, bayonet fixed charging at him, letting out a cry of havoc as he bounded closer and closer. He let out a scream, just before the German reached him…
—
Hiccup awoke with a cry of terror, sweat drenching him, and immediately saw that he was in a hotel room. Where was he again?
"You're in Paris," he told himself, "you're not in danger. You're not dead. You're ok," he repeated to himself, over and over, as if it was a chant to heal himself of his wounds. He brushed the scar on his left shoulder, a shallow one that would've been deeper had it not been for a young Canadian that night in Ypres, a Canadian he hoped was still alive and maybe even on reserve. Hiccup recalled how his eyes bulged at the sight of the dead body he created, the death he dealt with his rifle, and Hiccup had to hold him to stop his violent shaking. It was a terrible night for everyone, except the officers, who told the remaining Canadian troops that they had won the day. They had taken the wood and were proud of their troops.
They didn't mention the fact that 75% of all the attacking Canadians were killed or wounded. They didn't mention the French lines were devastated and morale was plummeting due to this new weapon, and they didn't mention the fact that the attack was poorly planned, and they never spoke of a reward for their actions, other than medals for a select few, including Hiccup.
He remembers getting that despicable pinned to his uniform, blood still staining the torso, as they cited his charge into the trenches and his "dispatch" of 8 German soldiers, 1 by rifle, 2 by bayonet, 4 by shovel and knife, and 1 by rock and hands. He wounded several others, apparently, that were now captured and prisoners of war. They actually congratulated him for his "gallantry and bravery in the face of a determined and hostile force and overwhelming fire". It was all bull. He only got it because he was the only survivor left out of the group that charged the furthest into the woods, save for the shell-shocked boy. That boy probably didn't even get recognized for his actions, as command didn't look too well upon those who were losing their minds. They thought those who lost their insanity were either cowards or acting. Put the officers into the trenches and see how long they can hold their sanity, Hiccup thought, but stopped himself. It wasn't all true, field officers had the highest mortality rate since they led the charges. But who suffered more in this war, the dead or the living?
Still lying in bed, Hiccup turned to the alarm clock and turned on the light above it, noting it was 5 a.m.
Time to stand-to, he thought. He got out of bed and removed the sweat soaked sheets from his bed, throwing them into a corner and putting new ones on. After, he changed into his uniform, turned on the lights, and lit a candle. The meeting wasn't until 11 a.m., he had some time to kill, and what better way to kill time than to read a nice book?
Spending time with Astrid, he thought to himself, with a slight smile.
—
Astrid woke up around 8 in the morning, sunlight streaming into her room, the sounds of Paris already coming alive in the bustling streets below. She struggled to open her eyes fully, wishing she could stay in bed just a little longer.
Alas, her warrior mind and upbringing got the best of her, and she forced herself out of bed with a grunt, making her bed and then walking towards the shower for a quick wash. While in the shower, she couldn't stop thinking about the day before. Hiccup had just been so wonderful, sweet and kind. It honestly was surprising when he offered to walk her home, too, she would have guessed that he thought she could take care of herself.
Still, it was sweet that he cared about her. She just hoped he was ok. It still rattles her when she thinks about the little breakdown he had that first day, the way he was shaking, the way his eyes just kind of became hollow and empty, still as a statue.
She hated to admit it, but it scared her. It scared her how much Hiccup had changed, and she wanted to help. She just had to hope that he would let her help him.
She turned off the water and got out of the shower, snagging a towel and drying herself before finishing up her daily chores. After, it was, in her opinion, the worst part of her morning routine…
Getting dressed.
Back in Berk, Astrid was allowed to wear clothing that defied the social norm, like tunics that exposed all of her arms and shorter skirts with leggings, as Berk was somewhat isolated from the general population of Scotland in the Highlands, surviving for decades after the old tribes had left, and also, Astrid hated dresses.
She despised them actually. Wished she could burn them all. And it made her livid when she found out she would have to wear one during her Red Cross nurse training while in Britain. However, here in France, the style was becoming looser, and there were women wearing some kind of tunics mixed with shorter skirts, so it was more practical than a dress, which Astrid could live with. Today's outfit was just a light blue shirt over her camisole (it's like an undershirt for those who don't know, including me lol) that had a bit of deep V-neck and a skirt that went to about her ankles. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was good enough for her.
After getting dressed and putting her into its usual ponytail, she went downstairs and outside to the streets. There were newspaper vendors going on about the current events in the world, most of them about the war. People were walking everywhere, on the streets and the sidewalks, their voices coming together to form a colossal sea of sound that Astrid still had to adjust to. Occasionally, there would be a car or two passing by, which still baffled her, as no one in Berk had one and there seemed to be so many here!
After adjusting to the bustling, morning life of a weekday in Paris, Astrid started walking to the nearest cafe, namely because she realized she was absolutely starving. She found a seat inside, thankfully there weren't too many people at the cafe around this time. She ordered some eggs and other food, as well as coffee, thinking about what she needed to do for today, maybe she should review the manuals, or the steps for injecting morphine, or the amount of painkiller or anesthetic to give to a soldier, or how to triage, or maybe…
"Astrid?" The voice startled her, and she whipped her head around, fully prepared to give the speaker an earful for coming up on her so suddenly from behind her, until she saw the speaker and smiled, letting a little squeak and getting up to embrace her friend in a hug that was most likely earning some frowns and comments of 'unladylike behavior' from some of the older women in the cafe.
Screw, them, Astrid hadn't seen Heather Heinecken since Britain, during their Red Cross training. Heather was a German immigrant who had to find her way to Britain 3 years before the war started after her parents were taken by German troops on suspicion of treason and executed, leaving her an orphan in militaristic Prussia. She eventually found her way out through deception and cunning and made her way to Britain. For most immigrants, immigration is very difficult, but as she was fluent in English and French as well as her native German, in addition to be semi-fluent in other languages, it was not very difficult to adjust to the language barrier. It was difficult to find work, though, so she helped where she could, and when the war broke out, many people became suspicious of her. She joined the Red Cross because she figured they wouldn't think she was a spy or discriminate against her there because of her German heritage. She also thought they would appreciate her in-depth knowledge of chemistry and medicine, which she inherited from her father in the form of his German medical textbooks and other materials.
She was wrong on both accounts.
Luckily, Astrid Hofferson saw no threat in the foreigner, and they quickly became friends because of their devotion to the war effort, their pride in themselves and, on a slightly not so good not, their temperament, as both could lose their temper at any one of the men that inevitably would hit on them as they walked through the streets of London or even Paris. Luckily, no one was hurt (permanently), but Heather had to remain for a few more days in London before traveling to Paris to finalize paperwork for working for the Red Cross.
It was good to have the duo back together again, Astrid thought with a smile. She released Heather from her embrace and they both took their seats in the far corner of the cafe, with plenty of catching up to do.
"So how did the paperwork go? Are you ready to get started?" Astrid was just wanting the conversation to get to something about boys, she REALLY wanted to talk about meeting Hiccup and seeing him again.
"Yeah, all set! Once they figure where we should go, anyway," Heather said with a slight chuckle.
"I know what you mean. I don't think they were expecting to get this many people to volunteer for it, maybe that's why their taking so long to sort us out."
"That's probably why. I'll be honest, I didn't expect to see you again! I thought by the time I got here you would've already been gone for the front!"
"Yeah, I thought so, too! Ehh, its not so bad. Paris is, kind of interesting. Have you been around the city much?"
"Not really, I don't want to hang around my hotel too much, because the other Red Cross workers seem suspicious of me just because I'm German and I feel like the Parisians can smell the Sauerkraut on me!" Astrid couldn't but laugh a little at that one, and was relieved when Heather shared a laugh, too. She was glad Heather could joke about this since it wasn't too much of a problem anymore. "But seriously, Astrid, what's up? I haven't spoken to you in a week or week and a half, so what's been going on? No letters from home?"
"No, but I did send one to my family, telling them I was finally in Paris and that I was waiting to work. I'll probably write another for them around the time we get our assignments to tell them about the change of address, maybe add something in there for Uncle Finn's birthday, but I doubt he'll write anything back."
"Yeah, I remember you saying something about that while we were in London, what happened to him? Was he wounded in combat or did he get sick or…"
"No, it's something weird. Okay, so my uncle Finn fought with Stoic, the mayor, Gobber, the town mechanic/repairman, Spitelout, the crazy 'oy-oy-oy' guy, and my dad in the Second Boer Wars, this was like 15 years ago, when they could actually fit into uniforms and stuff, because they were younger, right? So, they go off and fight there, and my uncle gets their crazy reputation for being fearless, charging into ambushes and stuff, the kind of things that get normal people killed. One day, he goes missing, and Stoic, Gobber, Spitelout, and my dad go out with the search party, and they eventually find him two days later with his uniform and ammo, just sitting frozen on top of this hill, eyes completely glazed over and in a daze. They took him back to the camp, and had him checked out, but they said he was fine, he may have just needed some rest. A few days later, they sent him home, and he's gotten better, but he rarely ever converses or smiles or looks people in the eyes. It's super strange, and it doesn't help Spitelout told everyone he found 'Frozen Finn" Hofferson."
"Oh my gosh, Astrid, I'm so sorry. You said he's doing better, though, that's good news," Heather's medical began to come forth in her analysis, "are his eyes, like, devoid of color? Were there any head wounds, maybe any obstructed by the hair or a hat he wore?"
"No, I don't think so. He just kind of sat there, frozen and no responding, but there were no physical wounds or anything." At that moment, as soon as she said that, Astrid began to picture Hiccup on that first day, the way his eyes glazed over, he became still and non-responsive, like he was in his own little world. Could the thing that happened to her uncle have happened to Hiccup? But why was Hiccup normal in other regards and her uncle completely changed? Was it a medical condition, or was it something with the fighting?
"You have that look in your eye, Astrid. What's up?"
"Nothing, I just feel like I've seen that in some of the soldiers around here then."
"It might be shell shock then," Heather said plainly.
"It might be… what? Shell… shell what?"
"Shell shock. It was one of the things I overheard some of the people in the medical ships talking about when I got her in at Calais. It's this theoretical thing that a lot of frontline soldiers have that shows all these symptoms of head wounds, like tremors and sensitivity, dizziness and tinnitus, but no physical wounds. The one thing that sets it apart is also when they have this unfocused stare, and some head doctors on board said it might mean they've become emotionally detached and their brain rewired so they have no emotion. It's pretty scary, and they don't have any ways of treating it other than rest." Heather may have been explaining all of these things, but as soon as Astrid heard her talking about an unfocused gaze, she immediately went back to Hiccup, going through a mental checklist of everything Heather just said and seeing if Hiccup fit this.
It broke her heart a little when she realized it all matched up, that one moment when she brought up combat, Hiccup showed those symptoms of shell shock. She needed to help him, but how? Heather just said there was no cure. Maybe Hiccup just needs rest, maybe stress won't help. She should refrain from talking about the war anymore around him, especially if she accidentally trig…
"Are you ok? You keep staring off into space and making me wonder if you're shell shocked," Heather sounded genuinely concerned for Astrid now.
"No no no, yeah, I'm good. I'm ok, I'm fine, I was just wondering about some of the things you said, I'm pretty sure I know a few of the soldiers here that suffer from that. Sorry."
"Oh, Astrid you don't have to apologize! Ok, now, speaking of soldiers…"
Oh no.
"I've seen a lot of them around, and you keep bringing up, these 'soldiers' so I just have two questions for you, Astrid Hofferson. What's his name, and is he cute?"
Shit, was the only thing running through Astrid's mind before she started turning a very unbecoming shade of crimson, smiling slightly out of embarrassment and crinkling her nose. Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, Heather's mouth shifted into an 'oooooo' and her eyes widened significantly, knowing she hit the bullseye with that shot in the dark. "Ooooohhhhhh, Astrid, honey, did you think you could keep that a secret from me," she asked, pride seeping through her words.
"I wasn't planning on it, I was going to tell you! I just didn't know how!" Astrid swears, the more she spoke at that moment, the redder her face got, and she had to turn away and wrap the blonde ponytail around her mouth in a futile attempt to hide the blush. It angered her at how red she was turning, and that anger turned to embarrassment because she was better than this, and that embarrassment just led straight back into blushing. It was a vicious cycle. "It was just so sudden, and I didn't want to, you know, brag about it!"
"Oh, so who is he? British? French? American volunteer?"
"He's a British soldier, but he has American citizenship, I'm pretty sure. But why does that matter, Heather?"
"Just trying to get to know him a little bit. What's his rank?"
"Ummmm…it starts with a C?"
"Captain?" Heather's eyes lit up in hope for her friend. An officer was a great catch…
"No no. It's, ummmm…it's lower than that I think. He's got like one of those v's on his shoulder?"
"That's a corporal, Astrid. Still technically an officer, though. Good job Astrid!" Heather smiled and gave her friend a thumb up, laughing as she did so. Astrid just continued to blush.
"No, it's not like that," Astrid let out another embarrassed chuckle, "He's actually really nice and sweet, and pretty cute, I must say. Plus, we're from the same town! I knew him as a kid!"
"Woah, you're both from the same desolate, bleak, depressing and sad corner of northern Scotland? The one where it snows 9 months a year, and hails the other 3?"
"Yeah, that one, and hey! Don't bash my hometown, Hun!" To any outsider, this would've sounded accusatory, but Astrid and Heather were good enough friends that no name was hurtful, when said in a joking context, thank Thor.
"Alright, alright. So, what's this lucky bastard's name?"
"Harry Haddock III, I know it's kind of a weird name, but…"
"Wait, did you say Harry Haddock III?" Astrid nodded, a little confused as to how she would know. "Oh my gosh, Astrid! Did you not read the newspapers back home?!"
"No, I didn't want to learn anything about the war, I wanted to do it on my own!"
"Astrid, he's like something of a small hero! He was in the papers twice, not front cover, obviously, but he was in there for what he did during the first two battle around Ypres!"
Now, Astrid Hofferson is not typically surprised, but this was something that took her by surprise. When she was talking to Hiccup, he seemed so nonchalant about the medals, she knew he would've had to do something great to earn them, but she never guessed it was news worthy.
What did he do?
"I…I never…I never knew that. Wow, this is surprising. He told me about medals he got, but he never said what he did for them."
"Yeah, the papers didn't go into detail, but he killed several Germans, apparently using handheld weapons, and took his men furthest into the woods, advancing further than anyone else."
"Ok, that would explain the medals, but he never told me. He, uh," she debated the next words out of her mouth, "could there be a reason he doesn't want to talk about combat, Heather? Like, was there anything in your father's medical books or journals that would explain it?"
"Ummm, off the top of my head? I don't think so, maybe the stress of combat. My father did write about how some soldiers reacted to combat during the Boxer Rebellion. They wouldn't talk about combat like some of the others, it wasn't about glory for them. My father wrote it might be because of the shock of killing, or just handled it differently. Harry just might handle combat differently than everyone, that's all."
"Ok."
"You're worried about him, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah, a little bit…ok I'm pretty worried. He seems fine when we talk about normal things, and he can talk about being in the army, but one time I directly asked him what combat was like, and he froze up."
"I think you just have to give him time. For some soldiers it's just a temporary thing, they can talk about combat later, but for now, he might still be dealing with the shock of it, so I think giving him time and space should help. Ok?"
"Ok, sounds good." The conversation continued for hours on a variety of topics, ranging from the things they learned for nursing, Paris, helping Astrid brush up on her French, what they think they'll be doing, where they'll be heading, and life after the war, if it ended in their lifetime. It seemed like this war had no forseeable end in sight.
It had been a few hours since they both sat in the cafe, and as the sun leaned towards the afternoon, the light slowly dimming by the hour, Astrid and Heather wrapped up their conversation. Heather still had some unpacking to do, as well as making sure her nurse uniform was pressed and ready in case they got called out. Astrid, on the other hand, was going to head back to her room, maybe swing by Hiccup's cafe around dinnertime, maybe she could see him, and they could spend some more time together. That wouldn't be sappy or clingy, would it? They weren't dating, but maybe Astrid just wanted to spend some time with him. That's ok to do, even if we aren't dating, right? Gods, he really messed me up, I hate you for making me into a sappy mess, Hiccup. She shook her head, bidding Heather a goodbye with the promise of catching up later and told one another the hotels they were staying in so they could visit one another.
As she walked back to her room, pushing through the people on the seemingly perpetually busy streets of Paris, Astrid couldn't help but think about the front, as it was starting to hit her what going to the lines might mean. Sure, she wouldn't be on the frontline, like Hiccup or even the rest of the Berk gang serving, but she would still be in danger. People's lives depended on her ability to stay calm and do her job, like Hiccup, except she wouldn't be in danger, or at least immediate danger. She just wondered where she would go first, and hopefully, Heather could be deployed with her. That way, she wouldn't have to try to make friends and could focus on her work. She hated to be the one sewing people up, she wished she could fight, but if she was needed helping the wounded, she won't complain, and she'll do what's expected of her.
For King and Country, she'll do her duty.
—
"As far I know, that's the extent of the situation regarding morale around Gallipoli, sir," Hiccup finished his report with a quick salute, expecting be able to leave. He looked around at his superiors sitting around the round table, looking down at their papers and stroking their chins and mustaches. There were French, Belgian and British officers gathered around the table, and had been for hours. It was around midday, he guessed, and he was pretty hungry, maybe he could get a bit at…
"And what of the situation on the Italian front? The front has stagnated on all sides, and it is imperative to know the morale of our allies in order to launch effective, coordinated offensives." One of the British officers, Hiccup couldn't guess his rank, spoke up, looking at Hiccup inquisitively.
"Sir, along the Italian front, morale is not favorable. The Italians dislike their new commander, they continue to suffer from munition and equipment shortages, which are not addressed by the current Italian leadership. The weather does not aid morale, and the Austro-Hungarians occupation of higher, more fortified positions is not lost on the troops, furthering leading to a deterioration of morale. In light of their coming offensive along the Isonzo, I think the Italian attack is a mistake, and numerous issues must be addressed before such a large campaign should be undertaken."
"While we appreciate your tactical input, Corporal Haddock, I would remind you that you are in the presence of superior officers, and it would suit you to keep your opinions of offensives to yourself. Let us make the decisions about tactics." The officer's rebuff was not as harsh as Hiccup expected, probably because he just learned something he didn't know, but Hiccup still had to remind himself to behave.
"Yes, sir. My apologies, sir." Just answer their questions, then bite your tongue, Hiccup reminded himself.
"Alright, thank you for your reports on Gallipoli and the Italian front, Corporal Haddock. Now, if I could have all other officers vacate the room, I need a moment to speak with Corporal Haddock, alone." All the officers left the room, save for the major general that spoke. Hiccup remained at attention, while the major general rose. "So, corporal Haddock, I apologize for sending you on all of these errands, but I want you to know that the work you do is important."
"Thank you, sir, and I do, sir."
"At ease, soldier, no one else is here, we can talk like normal humans."
"Thank you, General Hammond." He took a seat next to the general, where there were a series of papers Hiccup did not care to look at.
"Now, I hate to do this to you, but following your actions at Kitchener's woods, you showed yet again your adeptness for unconventional combat, as well as leadership skills. You achieved the rank of Corporal early on, but am I correct in understanding that all of the men under your command where killed in an artillery barrage?"
"Yes, sir." Hiccup painfully remembered how all of the new recruits bunched up in a shallow trench, perishing when the artillery came and rained down on them like a storm.
"Terribly dreadful that, and I extend my condolences. Be that as it may, you have proved yourself as a terrific soldier in not only fighting, but reconnaissance and marksmanship, especially in the Alps. Now, these next few assignments I will give you are…unconventional in nature. Should you accept, this will end your extended leave in Paris, however, I remind you that these are dire circumstances and vital to the war effort."
"I can assure you, sir, I am up for the task," Unwise as it may be ending his mental respite in Paris, Hiccup knew that if he was needed, if he shied away from the assignment, someone else would go in his stead, and if that person or persons perished, it was his fault. That's not something Hiccup wanted to live with. He quickly added "for King and Country."
"Yes yes, King and Country, but this is where things get tricky. The Western Front has stagnated, and we can assume the Italian front will stagnate as well, and there is not much we know about the Eastern Front. However, the key front we need you in right now is in the Sinai Peninsula and the region around Egypt and Palestine."
"But, sir, what about Anatolia, and Gallipoli?"
"Other commanders think a breakthrough is possible, but I won't hold my breath. Instead, I'm seeing that it is imperative to prepare for an offensive further south in the Ottoman's territory, somewhere where we can use the native population's desire for independence to our advantage. Now, you will be transferred to the appropriate division for the time being and sent down with a handful of other soldiers will similar skills, and you will partake in some… unconventional methods of war while there. You will be stationed there for the remainder of the summer season, as we will you need you and your new section back. You will be, on paper, attached to a superior command, and defend trenches and participate in planned offensives like the rest of the men, but on special occasions you may receive special assignments deemed vital to the war effort. These assignments are confidential in nature and will not be spoken about to outside personnel unless deemed either necessary or the action is no longer needed to remain secret."
"Sir, are you asking me to become a spy?"
"No, that is a separate department of the government, I mean handling raids and infiltration on enemy trenches and supply routes. These will only come as needed, and may not occur at all, but you will be temporarily moved to the front in the Arabian regions, until we will need your experience at an upcoming offensive."
"This is highly unconventional sir, and I've never participated in a raid or even infiltration."
"Yes, but when you enlisted, you were marked for having a sense of adventure, and have proved yourself able to handle many different environments and carry out missions of differing nature. In Gallipoli, you showed your ability to report on enemy positions and operate at night with the ANZAC scouts. In Italy, you proved yourself a highly effective marksman in rough terrain and dreadful weather, and in France and Belgium, showed that you are an effective field leader and reliable soldier. At this moment, you are the most able and qualified individual for this. Besides, the raids and infiltration are only a possibility, it has not been decided if those will be necessary. More than anything, we need men like you on the Middle Eastern front, where we can still make advances. The Western Front is immobile, and it would do you more good on a mobile front where we can make gains."
Do good? What good are we all doing in this war, other than ridding wives of husbands and sons of fathers, he thought. "I'll accept this assignment, sir."
"Good, your section is already waiting for you in Southern France, you will all fly on modified Russian Ilya Mourmet bombers, modified to allow for longer range and faster speeds to the front, but we only have a few of them, so I hope this fact makes you realize how imperative you work can be and will be. You will fly down, along with the two Red Cross nurses that are being sent down to the aid stations there. Again, this is highly unconventional, but maybe unconventional is what is needed to win the war. The date for the departure is at the end of this week, however, transportation down to the airfield leaves the day after tomorrow."
"Thank you, sir," but Hiccup wondered why they would take the time to send nurses down with them. This is bordering on stupidity and fantasy, and he had to ask, "sir, these nurses, will they be with us for the duration of our assignments, however unconventional they may be?"
"Not likely, they'll fly down with you to the front, complete responsibilities handed to them by their superiors, which I'm guessing has to do with training locals in caring for our wounded, which would allow more highly trained nurses to return to the Western, Eastern and Italian fronts. They will be accompanying you to all of your posts and training the locals in those locations, until you return here, whereupon they'll resume their normal jobs."
"I understand, sir." Hiccup only partially understood, he did not want to babysit nurses, and this was highly unprofessional and dangerous, and never heard of the army doing something like this. It was stupid, but he wasn't about to start an argument with a man who could have him shot for treason or cowardice. Also, in the back of his head, he was heartbroken about going to such a distant front. He would have to tell Astrid tomorrow, and maybe they could send letters to one another. He regretted not being able to spend more time with her, but maybe, if they both survived this, they could meet back up in Paris. His mind drifted, and suddenly he remembered something that he continually asked for but never received. "There is one thing I will require for my work, sir. I haven't seen him in several days, and where I go he goes. I tried to tell them this when they sent me to Paris and as a liaison to the Canadians, but they wouldn't listen."
"Yes, I've heard of this and I've read about your complaints, but I don't see any issues as to why he shouldn't be able to accompany you. He will allow you to effectively send messages throughout the immediate area, and possibly aid you in combat. I have no discourse with that."
"Thank you, sir" Hiccup let out a smile, and a sigh of relief. That meant he was ok.
"In fact, we thought it might be best to bring him here, to allow the two of you to catchup a little bit," the general turned to the door behind him, "Johnny! Bring him in!" The door behind the general opened, and there standing next to the British guard was a medium-sized, all-black King Shepard with light green eyes, panting and looking around until its eyes landed on Hiccup. Hiccup just smiled.
"TOOTHLESS!"
—
It was around 5 in the afternoon when Astrid got a knock on her door, arousing her from the reading she was doing on caring for the wounded. Thinking it might be Hiccup, she bolted to the door, first catching her foot in the chair and then knocking over her pile of books on her bed before she reached the door. She swung it upon, a little too aggressively, and found a young man dressed in a green military uniform with a Red Cross armband standing in the doorway, looking a little surprised at the force and speed with which the door swung open. "I have a message for a Miss, Astrid Hofferson?"
"Yes, that's me," she responded, a little disappointed it wasn't Hiccup and embarrassed about how she acted, trying to regain her composure. She straightened. "What is this about?"
"Uhh, your assignment, ma'am." He handed her the letter. "Report to the Hôtel-Dieu de Paris hospital and report to the ICRC Headquarters. You are first to read the letter regarding your assignments, and then report the day after tomorrow for a briefing. That is all." With that, he turned he left.
Astrid stood, standing in the doorway, holding this envelope in her hand, a tornado of emotions welling inside her. This is it, this is finally. It's finally time. I'm going somewhere to be useful, she thought, excited at the notion of finally helping people and doing her duty.
But, there was also the fact that she would be leaving Hiccup, and even if they ended up being in the same area, he wouldn't be able to see her if he even did survive. And if they did both end up surviving, Hiccup might be more broken than before. He wouldn't be the same person, and the thought of that just broke her heart.
She decided to put these thoughts aside, and opened the letter, resuming dutiful Astrid that put aside personal matters and did what was required of her. She opened the letter:
Astrid Hofferson,
This letter is coming in regard to your volunteering for the International Committee of the Red Cross. We thank you for your volunteering and your desire to help protect human life and health in these turbulent times.
For your first posting, you are being assigned to the Middle Eastern Frontline, where you will be aiding a fellow ICRC nurse in instructing the local population and native ICRC volunteers in caring for wounded and alleviate human suffering. In addition, you will carry out those same responsibilities given to every ICRC volunteer nurse in your assigned aid station. You have been chosen due to your resourcefulness that was observed during training, commitment, ability to perform in adverse circumstances and your high standing with your teachers. You were recommended for this position, as it is a great responsibility to be thrust upon.
For your briefing, report to the Hôtel-Dieu de Paris hospital's ICRC offices and seek out Sister Marie.
We thank you again for your volunteering, and may God be with you.
Signed,
Mother Francesca
Astrid was at a loss for words. She was going to the Middle Eastern frontline? "What the actual hell? The Middle Eastern Frontline?" She'd never known there were battles there, and while she was proud of herself for getting this based on her performance in training, she was confused as to why this area was demanding of attention. She was not looking forward to teaching the locals and natives, though, since she wouldn't know the language, but if this was her duty, so be it. She'd see it through with vigor and vitality, even if she didn't want to.
Astrid supposed she'd have to tell Hiccup tomorrow. Maybe they could exchange letters then, but how would she bring it up? They weren't dating, they were just friends, but she supposed she could ask if they could be more than that. She walked back to her bed and threw herself facedown, letting out an exasperated groan into the mattress. This was not going to be an easy summer.
—
So, this is where history is going to take a bit of a backseat. I wanted to explore The Great War as much as possible on several fronts, and the Middle Eastern Front is the one where there was the most mobility and least stagnation for the British. I also wanted to through in a bit of adventure, reminiscent of T.E. Lawrence, so the things that will happen in the upcoming chapters stretch history, but not by much. For example, troops were not really flown, especially not such a small number, and raiding and infiltration didn't become big until later, but I wanted Hiccup to go outside of the Western Front, so we can explore the adventurous side of his character from the movies and the shows. After this, the story will shift to most likely the Western front and the Italian Front, and realism and history will take over again. So, if you came here for trench warfare Hiccup, you'll see bits of him in the Middle East, but mostly we will wait until France again.
Now, I want to thank everyone for their reviews and favs/follows! I did not expect this many people to enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it, and I want to say thank you for your support! Now for some questions, I will answer the review questions here without singling out the actual review, because that is easier and quicker for me to do, at least for the guests. So, I know in canon there is no evidence Astrid was mean to Hiccup in childhood, but I consider actively ignoring and avoiding, as well as indifference to what may have been a victim of bullying at least very rude, so in my mind Astrid was at least very rude to Hiccup, although I may have used the wrong word choice in saying she was mean to him, you're right Guest. As for making Hiccup pagan, part of it was my own symbolic thinking, because so many people lost faith in the war, mainly monotheistic religions but not limited to them, it made sense to take a pagan following a mythology more violent, darker and more harsh than others and use that for Hiccup, because it's ironic that a pagan isn't losing faith, because he knows his gods would do something like this. Also, I can keep some of the iconic phrases, like "Oh, the gods hate me" and "Beard of Thor" and "Odin help us". As for the last guest review, Astrid will see combat, but she will not be completely helpless. She knows how to fight hand to hand in canon, which I'm carrying over in some degree, as well as her knowledge of handheld weapons, but when it comes to modern warfare, she will be very inexperienced. Realistically, she can fight and overpower men, but she won't be able to do that here using sheer strength, rather, it would be her speed, accuracy of attacks and ability to maintain distance from her male combatants. Basically, this is the best option in my opinion because it uses her canon fighting skills, but also incorporates realism in that if she was taken to the ground, she'd most likely lose. She will be fulfilling the duty of ICRC nurses, mostly, so I don't plan on venturing too far outside that, at least not in this part of the story. Alright, as for the rest of the reviews, I want to thank you guys for your support, and if you like this story, please review and fav/follow for more!
Thank you so much!
