Chapter 7 (Arthur Kirkland)

"Look at that!" "This is unreal!" The harbour was filled with ships. The entire BEF would have to board them in the next hours. Arthur stared at the countless ships, remembering the English Armada he had learned about in school. Was this how it looked like? Countless ships, side by side? There was this sense of pride and excitement, and the feeling of strength that all who looked at the fleet shared. This view seemed to take all the worries of the soldiers away. There was no way they could lose! "Ready, Kirkland?" his platoon leader, lieutenant Winters, asked. "Sir, more than I'll ever be" Arthur replied. "Then get your squad. We should get going. You and the other two corporals, get your squads on the ship. Then, go to the briefing room. You'll get your objectives there. Understood?" lieutenant Winters asked. "Yes, sir!" Arthur replied and saluted before searching for his squad.
"Boys, move it. We'll get going!" Arthur declared once he found the men who seemed too occupied with the young women standing there to even think about war. Arthur sighted and used the heels of his shoes to make a loud sound so the twelve men were interrupted in whatever they were doing, turned around and stood to attention. Arthur looked at the smiling women behind them: "I'm sorry, but I have to take them with me. France awaits."

"You won't do that when we're abroad, is that understood?" Arthur muttered while he led his men on their assigned ship, "We have a job to do and a reputation to keep." "…Yes, corporal" one of them, 18-year-old Jason Baker, replied. "I will brief you once I know the details of our mission. Whatever you do, don't do anything stupid, understood? Casualties before ever seeing the battlefield – that would be stupid" Arthur declared once they entered their rooms. "Understood!" "I assume I'm back in a bit over an hour" Arthur stated before he turned around to make his way to the briefing room.

"As a part of E company, you will be assigned to guard the line east of Lille. You'll be forming a triangle, Kirkland, you'll take the position to the east. In case of an engagement, you must communicate with A company from the First French Army as they are right next to you. It's easy to start friendly fire. Johnson, you'll take the position to the west. The same goes for you, even though it's always easier to communicate with platoons from the same army. Ford, you'll be positioned between the two, some kilometres to the south. You will be positioned in front of G company from the Royal Artillery, 3rd field regiment. So, don't walk into their fire if they were to shoot, that would be pretty dumb" lieutenant Winters declared, handing maps to them where their future position was signalised with a circle. "To each of your squad, I will assign you a radioman. It's possible we won't be able to meet up to discuss new strategies if, or rather, when the Germans attack. Radiomen, like medics, can and will turn out to be immensely important. Any questions?" It was dead-silent. The three corporals looked at their maps, at all the different divisions, companies – everything that was marked on them. It felt like one of the thousand training exercises they had done in the past – but this time, real lives were on the line. 'This is it' Arthur thought, 'we are actually going to war'.

It was hard to explain how he felt. This realisation was different than the thoughts that were running through his head when he had entered the ship. After he had briefed his squad, he sought time alone to fight this battle within him. It wasn't that he was afraid of dying – somehow, was clear to him that he'd make it. He thought about a life with gruesome injuries, about the pictures of the dead Germans that he would have to see – but he didn't think that he wouldn't return. Maybe that's the mistake soldiers make that had never been to war: They don't know the true fragility of a human life, and the luck that it takes to move in the right second, so you're not hit by the blast of a mortar, or by the bullet of an enemy's rifle.

Arthur watched the coastline of France. It came closer, it became endless in his eyes. What looked like relatively small area on his map was now huge. They disembarked and made their first steps on French soil. They were greeted, well, their officers were greeted by French army officials. Photographers were there, too. The first British troops in France – apparently, that was worth photographing. Some platoons were taken to their positions by cars, Arthur's entire company, however, had to take the train first, and then were resettled in cars. Driving through the villages of northern France, Arthur couldn't really imagine war coming here. It all seemed to picturesque, so calm and quiet. 'But then again, that is probably how Poland looked, too' he thought. How he hated the word 'Blitz'. It violated everything he had previously learned about war – even about the great war. It was just… cruel.

"Get out, the last kilometres we have to walk!" Winters yelled. The three squads assembled and began their way up north. No one really talked when they walked over the green fields surrounding Lille. Johnsons squad moved west, closer to the city itself, while the squad under Lewis Ford had taken their position together with platoon leader Winters some minutes ago. So now, Arthur was alone with his men, moving towards their post further to the east. "It's quiet" Benjamin Simons, 18 years old, remarked. "Well, I don't think their strategy is to ring warning bells so we know they're coming" Arthur replied sarcastically, "Doesn't mean we couldn't be attacked in the night. Fighter planes can reach this place within minutes." Once they had reached the post that lay on top of a little hill, they started digging. Not yet faced with the time pressure of raging combat, they managed to dig formidable fox holes, rather trenches, really. Like the way they had learned as a result of the great war. That this tactic would be useless in some days, that didn't even cross Arthur's mind.

That was right at the end of April. The wait for anything to happen was… strange. Strange, because no one knew what they were waiting for. Sure, all of them knew that, in theory, the Germans would come. Eventually. But in theory, that could be in some months. Till then, some units would most likely be replaced by others. But at least they had actual food – not much, already, rationing had started for both civilians and soldiers, but they weren't living off can food rations. If it hadn't been for the guns, it would have felt like an odd camping trip of which no one knew when it would be over.

"Do you think we'll ever get to fight?" Timothy Warners asked one night. It was May the 9th. "At some point, sure. Maybe not here, though" Eric Glass replied. Arthur didn't say anything because he didn't know how he wanted to answer – did he want to fight? For sure. He wanted to kill Germans. But did he want to be under mortar and artillery fire and have bombs dropped on his head? … not really. So he just kept quiet and stared into the clear sky. It was an unusually clear night. He could see the moon and the stars. With the light that he had, he looked on his map. He knew that the Belgium and Dutch army were not there to stop the German advance, they were there to delay it so the French and British army could counterattack and defeat them. In theory, that sounded easy – attack their flanks, the artillery should take out heavy machinery before the infantry would engage. In theory, it was simple. The thing about theory was just – it doesn't work out that way.

They were about to get some rest, but then, the radioman yelled: "It's the HQ!" Arthur felt his blood run cold while he watched his radioman picking the phone up. He had never seen a man turn literally white. He waved Arthur over: "He demands you." Arthur took the phone: "Sir?" "Get ready, Luxembourg fell. They're moving towards Holland now, the Luftwaffe is up. We alerted the Artillery, but be on high alert. We have a major problem because the BEF is not complete and only very view companies and divisions are fully entrenched. The French will send troops up north to assist the Belgium army, but that won't buy much time. The fight moves south, now and this means we will have to engage soon." "Yes, sir. I copy that. Any change in our location?" Arthur asked, forgetting his anxiety. "Well, holding the position would be nice, but till now, no, no relocating." "Copy that. Anything else?" Arthur asked. "No, not till now. Keep your head low, I'd say. They're famous for aerial bombing." "We'll do our best" Arthur replied. "Fair enough. I'll call you when there is anything new."

Arthur held the field phone in his hand like holding it would shelter him from what was to come. "What's the matter?" Timothy asked. "Get in the trenches, put your gear on. They've invaded Luxembourg and are moving towards Belgium" Arthur said coldly. He said words he himself couldn't understand. This was it. This was the war they had been waiting for.