The next day they returned to their normal routines, but Blackadder was still thinking over the incident in the trench the night before.
Of course it could have been a nightmare: it would be typical of a yellow pencil pusher like Darling to scare himself like that. But he was sure Darling was awake when he screamed...
He was actually begrudgingly pleased when he was called yet again to go to Melchett's office, if only to see if he could get more information about the clerk's strange behaviour.
Darling wasn't having the best morning. The loss of several hours of sleep was weighing his concentration down and he'd already miscounted the office inventory several times. He wiped at the tired skin round his eyes and started on the numbers once again.
One of the sergeants in charge of the moved battalion had been called in to debrief with Melchett. He'd been here for more than an hour, and Darling was doing his best to keep his head down. The sergeant was renowned for his prying, and the last thing he needed was to be pulled into a conversation about personal matters. However, just as he was leaving the man paused and turned to Darling with a frown.
"Hey, I remember you. Cartwright wasn't it?" he asked.
"Darling," Darling corrected, with an irritable twitch.
"You what?"
"My name. Is Darling." He bit out testily.
"Oh yeah, Captain Darling," he said. "Hey, didn't you used to be the Captain of that platoon out along the East line?"
Darling twitched again. "Yes, well-"
"You gonna re-join the troops down in the trenches then?" He interrupted. "Or are you gonna stay in this cushy desk job with Melchett?"
"I think my skills are better suited in an administration position," he said, not looking up from his paper.
"Suit yourself," the man shrugged, and left, Darling glared daggers into his back.
A few moments later, Blackadder entered. Darling was spared the normal jump surprise of his entrance, having his eyes on the door as it opened.
"Good morning, Darling," Blackadder said. "I don't know about you but I had a marvellous nights sleep."
"Yes, very good Blackadder," Darling snapped acidicly. "Now I'm very busy so if you would-"
"Tell me, Darl-"
"Captain Darling," Darling spat out, nearly snapping the pencil again.
"-ling," Blackadder continued regardless, leaning against the desk casually. Darling moved some of his pencils away from Blackadder's hand, to stop him knocking them out of place. "Why did you get this job?"
"I actually went to school, Blackadder," he said. "I didn't just sign up to shoot pigmies first chance I got."
"But was that the real reason you got this job over me?" Blackadder asked. "Or was it because-" he pulled out his pistol and fired it into the ceiling, before brandishing it in Darling's face "Sterben wie der hund sind sei, Englisch abschaum!" He yelled in broken German.
The reaction was almost instant; Darling leapt backwards out of his chair with a strangled tell, eyes wide with utter terror; the chair clattering to the floor as his back hit the wall. Right now he wasn't looking at Blackadder, he was staring at an angry German solider brandishing a sizeable revolver to his forehead. He was in the trench, a storm raging overhead with shouts and yells outside as other soldiers ran towards their dugout, but they would be too late. Behind him, bodies lay strewn throughout the dugout. Oh god the blood-
Blackadder stared at the quivering Darling for a moment. This wasn't the proud rival he verbally sparred with on a daily basis, this was a terrified man. He quickly shook off the shock (and slight pity, although he'd never admit it) went straight for the interrogation, tinged with actual concern and interest.
"What happened?" He asked.
"They attacked the trench..." Darling recited blankly, still staring into the middle-distance. He twitched sharply, in a way that must have hurt his neck.
"Who attacked?"
"The Germans. In the middle of the night. The trench..."
"What happened?" he asked again.
Darling hesitated, then gave a pained, almost mournful cry as he stared into the flashback.
Blackadder realised he needed to snap him out of it. "Darl- Kevin calm down."
The man's breathing was fast now, bordering on hyperventilation.
"Have to get out have to get out have to get out have to get out-"
"You're in your office, calm down!" a voice called out, he frowned; it sounded like-
"Bl- Blackadder?" he stammered.
Oh that's right, Blackadder had been called in to see Melchett hadn't he? Trust the git to pull something like that, on a man of his disposition.
"Kevin, are you alright?"
Darling started, Blackadder never used his first name. Not since school. He quickly went into the defensive; he'd broken down. In front of Edmund Blackadder. He'd never live this down. He'd seen, he knew-
"What do you want, Blackadder?" He cut across his train of thought before another wave of panic set it. Blackadder was the one man you couldn't let your guard down around. One weakness spotted and that was his weapon against you. He'd been using his twitch against him for almost two years now.
"Kevin for gods sake-"
"It's Captain Darling," Darling spat venomously, scrambling to his feet with attempted grace and straightening out his army-regulation jacket, before marching past Blackadder out the door. His heart was still going like the clappers from the flashback; he needed some tea and a sit down. Hopefully Blackadder would be gone by the time
Blackadder was early for his appointment, so decided to hang around outside the office. As he leaned against a wall, he spotted two officers talking a few meters down the corridor, or more precisely heard their discussion:
"Didn't know Captain Darling was his secretary," one of the officers was saying. "Last time I saw him he was running from the trenches with his tail between his legs..."
"Excuse me?" Blackadder walked up to them mid-conversation, his interest piqued.
"Yes?" the officers turned to look at him with an annoying air of superiority that Blackadder instantly disliked.
"I heard you talking about Captain Darling," he said. "His last post, was in your trench?"
"Actually it was the trench next to ours, why?"
"Personal friend of mine," Blackadder lied. "He never told me what happened and I was hoping you'd fill me in."
"Interesting story actually," he said. "The trenches were stormed in the night by Jerries. We fought back but had to retreat to other more protected trenches. Captain
Darling's trench was hit the strongest, only he and a few others managed to escape, the rest were killed. I don't know what the Captain saw, but he was in intensive care for shock for a few weeks. Next I heard, they gave him the position of Melchett's assistant to keep him busy during recovery away from the front."
"Really?"
"Oh yes, apparently he couldn't stand being in any trench for a good while afterwards."
"Tell me, was his trench one of the ones east of here?"
"Oh yes, I'm moving my men in there today. The ones we recently reclaimed."
Blackadder spotted the clock on the wall, it was nearing the time of his appointment.
"I have to go now, but thank you for, sir," Blackadder saluted and walked away."
"What is it, Blackadder?" Melchett asked as Blackadder entered his office; the fact that he'd called for him in the first place escaping him.
"Well, I never thought I'd be saying this, but... I'm concerned about Captain Darling."
"Oh it isn't that ridiculous trench business, is it?" Melchett snorted dismissively. "I've told him a thousand times that there's no reason to be so affected by it anymore.
It's safely behind our lines now, and anyway it was a good two years ago at least."
"Sir, that's the worst shell shock I've seen this side of the trench."
"Pah, it was just a small attack. He wasn't fit to stay in the trenches, kept twitching and screaming every time a gun went off. So we moved him here."
"For his peace of mind, sir?"
"No! So he didn't affect the rest of the troops! Can't have weak minded men like that spreading his nerves to the rest of his soldiers. No, let the blotter jotters work their cowardice away in offices, and let the brave souls who don't panic at the sight of blood fight for our country!"
"As far as I would love to agree with you," Blackadder noted. "I don't think cowardice is the problem here."
"Nonsense, of course it is! Those doctors back in Blighty may call it an illness, we all know that it's pathetic conchy excuses."
Blackadder gave up. Melchett, as always, was thick headed and thick skinned and wasn't going to change his mind anytime soon.
Blackadder initially planned to walk straight out the office and not say anything, pretend his and Darling's little confrontation never happened and let both of them get on with their lives ignoring it. However, as he passed Darling's desk, where the man was practically ripping holes in the paper as he wrote in his frustration and shakiness, he paused and turned to him.
"For what it's worth, Kevin," he said. "I'm sorry."
Darling paused for a moment, glanced up at him with an unreadable expression, then returned to his report. As Blackadder closed the door, he heard a long-suffering sigh of a tired man and he silently agreed: they'd both had a long day.
I based this second half on what I've read about how many people saw PTSD and 'shell-shock' as a sign of mental weakness rather than a legitimate illness.
Sorry if it's a bit messy, I didn't realize how much I'd get into writing this...
Final scene coming up soon!