Chapter 17
︻┳═一
September 30th, 1916
︻┳═一
Eddie was playing cards on his bed with Jazz and Cap, using a specially-marked deck designed for blind patients, when the cheerful barking of a small dog broke the quiet. Eddie opened his arms wide. "P.B.?"
The dog leapt onto the bed, scattering cards everywhere in his frenzy to greet his master. He began to make a noise that sounded like nothing other than, "Ma'am-ma'am-ma'am!"
"Hey, boy!" Eddie tried to settle the dog as it writhed on its back and kicked its legs, sending almost all of the remaining cards onto the floor. "Where's yer Mammy, eh?"
Private Barker howled, cried, panted and licked Eddie all over for so long that Cap and Jazz began to chuckle. The heels of Bella's shoes clacked upon the floor. Two unfamiliar gaits accompanied hers.
"Poor wee thing must hae thought ye'd gone west."
"Ye-e-eah, poor baby," Eddie crooned, allowing the dog to lick his face. "I'm sorry, doggy. Such a good boy. Who's the lovely dog, then?" Eddie suddenly noticed how quiet his friends had become. As he stood to greet his visitors, Jazz and Cap shrank back, and Private Barker scampered all over the bed, scattering more cards and knocking Eddie's pillow on the floor.
"Happy birthday, Eddie," Bella said warmly.
"Thank you, my darling." Eddie stooped to kiss his wife, who was wearing her beautiful lace dress again. She put her fingers over his lips and pushed him away.
"Ach, no! Ye just kissed the dog!"
He laughed and embraced her instead, then turned his attention to the couple standing behind her. Each of them seemed to be carrying bulky objects. He reached out his right hand to the taller figure, which was still a head shorter than he. "Hello."
The man shook his hand firmly and Eddie's phantom thumb prickled painfully. (i)
"Happy birthday. How do, Lieutenant Masen?"
Eddie retained the man's hand, for he knew the voice. "You're Peter Biggins. I owe you and your missus an apology."
"It's all right now, innit?"
"Yes, sir. I shan't do it again."
"Good."
"Wonderful to meet you properly, at last. Please call me Eddie." Eddie turned his head toward the much tinier (but rotund) person. He reached out for her with both hands and she placed hers in his. This was the lady that had fed, nurtured, and welcomed him into her house. "Forgive me, Mrs. Biggins."
She burst into tears. "Oh! You are a dear boy. Mr. Biggins and I have been very worried. Very worried, indeed."
Eddie raised her hands to his lips. "I am sorry."
"Never mind, sonny. I'm just glad to see you are your chipper self again. Now, who are these fellows, then?"
"Ah, these are my best mates, Captain Emmett McCarty, Canadian First Division…"
From his place on the bed, Cap nodded at Mrs. Biggins and shook hands with Mr. Biggins. He didn't say a word.
"…and Ensign Jasper Hale, C.F.D." Jazz had half-hidden himself behind Eddie, so Eddie prodded him forward. The ensign kept the left side of his face averted, but stuck out his hand.
"Hello," Mr. Biggins said cheerfully.
"Sir," Jazz murmured. Mrs. Biggins got very close to him and peered up into his face. She pushed his hair behind his ear.
"What lovely hair you have, dear. Like flax." Eddie heard her inhale sharply. He tensed. "And most beautiful eyes, too. Such a handsome blue. May we wish you a happy belated birthday?"
Jasper stepped back and pressed himself against Eddie's side, so Eddie put his arm around him. For a moment, there was an awkward silence.
"Well," Bella said. "What shall we have first, dinner or presents?"
"Oh…" Eddie was acutely aware that Jasper's birthday had been the day before, and nobody had sent him so much as a note. Eddie had mentioned it to Bella, which was how Mrs. Biggins knew about it.
"I've brought a lovely crock full of beef with taters, turnips and onions, enough for everyone," Mrs. Biggins said heartily.
"And two bottles of plonk (ii)." Mr. Biggins held them up. They were very large bottles.
"And I have crusty bread, and cold, fresh butter," Bella added, "And a jar of quince (iii) preserves, and a tin of shortbread from Aunt Maggie. Jessy has lent us seven bowls and some mugs."
"How very kind of you," Eddie said.
"Not at all," Mrs. Biggins said. "We must feed you up, my dear."
"Looks like these two need feeding up more, My Own," Mr. Biggins said. He reached out to give Jasper a nudge, and Jasper half-hid behind Eddie again. "Don't they feed you in the army?"
"No, sir, they mostly starve us," Eddie said. The Bigginses laughed lightly while Emmett crawled into his wheelchair.
"Well," Eddie said, "this is quite the humdinger (iv) of a party. Now, how are we going to manage to eat?"
"Jessy suggested we haff a picnic." Bella prodded Private Barker onto the floor and picked up the last few cards littering Eddie's bed. "Mr. and Mrs. Biggins may use the chairs."
"Oh, no," Mrs. Biggins said. "We shall picnic on the floor, as well."
"Verra well." Bella flapped out Eddie's cotton quilt onto the floor. Mr. Biggins helped Mrs. Biggins onto her knees. Eddie suspected he would be helping her up later. He made himself comfortable opposite the couple. "Come on, Jasper," Bella said with a wave as she sank to the floor. "Emmett. Mrs. Biggins is a wonderful cook. Ye're in for a treat." Private Barker ran delighted circles around everyone, tongue lolling, and ended up tucked up on Eddies' lap.
Eddie badly wanted Bella pressed up beside him, but he was aware that the whole afternoon might go up in one dilly of an explosion, so when Jasper carried Emmett over and placed him to Eddie's left side, then sank down to sit on his right, Eddie didn't make them move.
"Come on, P.B.," Bella picked up a small bowl of stew and set it to one side. Private Barker leapt off Eddie's lap and dug into it with enthusiasm.
Mr. Biggins cleared his throat. "Bless these Thy gifts, o Lord, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, and make us mindful of the needs of others."
"Amen."
Eddie took a spoonful of beef so tender he barely had to chew it, seasoned to perfection and swimming in rich gravy infused with red wine. The bread was crusty and beautifully white (v), and Bella had spread it with the sweet butter. Eddie was aware that he was eating greedily so he tried to slow down, but Jazz and Cap were already almost scraping the bottom of their bowls.
The Bigginses and Bella were doing most of the chatting, but they didn't seem to mind.
Mrs. Biggins held up her ladle. "Here, dearie." She refilled Jazz's bowl. "This will do you good."
"Thank you," he said softly.
"Captain?"
"Oh, I d-don't… But… a b-bit of th-that… bird and yellow..." His face wrinkled and his eyelids fluttered with anxiety.
"Indeed." Bella passed it to him as though nothing was amiss, pointing at the items so he would remember the words. "Ye like bread and butter, don't ye, Captain?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I love using it to sop up my gravy."
"Yes, ma'am!" Emmett did exactly that.
"Eddie will have more beef, won't you, sonny?" Mrs. Biggins said.
"Yes, please, Mrs. Biggins." He nudged Jasper. "Isn't Mrs. Biggins the most wonderful cook?"
"Yes, sir."
Even Cap made it through two bowls of stew and a triangle of shortbread with a dab of quince jam on top. And everyone had at least one mug of plonk.
"I don't think I could eat one more bite." Eddie rubbed his stomach.
"Ye're full?" Bella demanded.
Eddie laughed. "It has been known to happen."
"When?"
He felt his face burn. "Occasionally."
Quickly, Bella and Mrs. Biggins wrapped the leftovers and returned them to their basket.
"And now, the presents!" Bella announced. Before Eddie could interject, she passed a small package to Jazz. "Here, this is from me and Eddie."
"For me? Thank you." He tore off the brown paper. "Rothman fags! (vi) Wow. Thanks."
"And this is from me and the missus," Mr. Biggins said, passing Jazz a cloth sack. He peeked at them uncertainly.
"But… you don't even know me."
"You belong to our Eddie," Mr. Biggins said. "That makes you family."
"Thank you." He sounded amazed.
"Go on then," Mrs. Biggins urged. "Open it."
Jasper opened the bag and paused. He reached in and pulled out a blue linen shirt. "I… I don't know what to say."
Mrs. Biggins patted him on the knee. "Say you'll come and stay with us when you're ready to come home."
"Yes, ma'am. Yes, Mrs. Biggins. I will."
"I have been thinking," Mrs. Biggins said, "that I should like all of you to call me Mother Biggins."
"It would be…" Cap began, and drifted off.
Eddie cleared his throat. "We would be honoured to call you Mother."
"Honoured," Cap echoed.
"Here, Cap," Bella said, passing him a small rectangular package.
"It's not!" He shook his head with a panicked expression.
"Happy unbirthday. I thought ye maun need something to trade with this lot."
He ripped into the paper and looked at the contents. "Good…"
"Hershey's chocolate."
"I could kiss you right now." That came out of his mouth with no effort whatsoever!
"Hey," Eddie growled and gave Emmett a playful nudge. "Bella's my little woman. Get your own. Sir."
Jasper laughed under his breath.
Bella pushed a hard, cubic package into Eddie's hands. "Here, sweet man. Open it."
Eddie carefully tore the paper but something small and cool slipped out of the top and fell into his lap. He felt the box in his hands and smelled it tentatively. "Fags? There must be a year's supply here. What… Dunhill's. These are the best."
"My father said so." Bella reached into his lap, retrieved the small item and handed it to him. "I thought perhaps a lighter would be easier for ye tae use than Lucifers." (vii)
"Thank you, darling." He held the lighter up to his good eye and squinted at it. It was rectangular, with a striker on top, and the front was enamelled to look like a tankful of tropical fish. "How fanciful! I love it." (viii)
"Do ye?"
"I do! Thank you so much. I shall use it with pleasure." He tucked it into his trouser pocket and patted it.
Mr. Biggins cleared his throat. "I hope you will not think Mrs.—Mother Biggins and I are overstepping, Eddie. This is only part of it. There is more for you when you come home." He passed Eddie a large, cloth sack.
"Whatever is this?" Eddie tugged open the silk ribbon that was holding the bag shut.
"Bella said you asked for Muftis," Mrs. Biggins said. "They belonged… to our son, Bernard." Edward opened the bag and drew out a tailored white shirt and a summer weight, grey three-piece suit.
"Oh, my," Edward said, his throat closing up.
"We lost him at the Aisne," Mr. Biggins said. "September 13th, 1914." (ix)
"I'm sae sorry," Bella said.
Eddie nodded. "Our deepest condolences."
"First Battle of the Aisne," Emmett said darkly.
"You know of it, Captain? Were you there?" Mrs. Biggins asked eagerly. But Emmett did not answer. There was another awkward silence.
"Cap goes blank sometimes," Eddie explained. "And he forgets the words for things. It's called Neurasthenia." (x) That's why he's here."
Mrs. Biggins shook her head. "Oh, dear. How's it cured, then?"
"Rest." Jasper hugged himself. "They think. They don't really know if it works or not. Most men don't seem to get over it."
"And why are you in here, sonny?" Mr. Biggins asked.
Jasper gulped and let his hair fall in front of his face like a curtain. "Shell shock." He attempted and failed to stand as his muscles jerked and seized. Eddie rose, picked him up, and carried him to bed. Jasper was shaking so badly that Eddie had to wrap him up in his arms to prevent him from going loony. He tipped his head toward Bella apprehensively but she only gave Jazz a pat on the head, followed by a kiss on the head for Eddie.
"I think I maun take Private Barker home for a wee bit. After that, I'll come back tae see you."
"All right, thank you."
"We'll be off, too, boys," Mr. Biggins said, helping Mrs. Biggins up. He turned his attention to Emmett. "May I help you back to your cot, Captain?"
"N-no fans you. Okay-O sitting on the blanket."
"Right-o. Cheerio, then!"
"Pip pip." Jasper whimpered.
︻┳═一
An hour later, Eddie gripped the seat of the chair in the middle of Dr. Harris's office. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" There were four blurry men in the bright blue room, one of whom appeared to be in uniform. The fourth man, he knew to be his doctor.
"Well," Dr. Harris said jovially, "we've some papers to put in order so you can go home."
Eddie sat up a bit. "I'm getting out?"
"Not right away, these things take time. Red tape, you know." (xi)
"Oh. Of course."
"So, I sent a telegram your parents to find out where we should ship you."
His blood ran cold. "What?"
"Back to Newfoundland. Home, my good man."
Eddie shot to his feet. "What is the meaning of this?" Damn the man! He'd promised he could be trusted. Eddie shook his head with increasing ferocity. "I'm not going back with them. No way! I'm a married man and I'm remaining here with my wife!"
"You're not eighteen, yet."
He felt his Irish rise. "You are not going to invalidate my marriage or my service. We have discussed this already." He pointed at Harris. "I trusted you."
"Lieutenant."
"The Newfoundlanders promoted me three times and put me in charge of sixty men. If you try to say I'm not an adult or I'm not competent to make decisions for myself, I'll—"
Dr. Harris stepped closer and Eddie discovered he was smiling kindly. He patted Eddie on the shoulder. "Bravo."
Eddie shook his head with a frown. "Doctor."
"Please sit, Lieutenant." Eddie clenched his fists. His heart was pounding against his ribs.
"Please, Eddie."
He felt for the chair and sat, feeling almost ill with anticipation.
"Please forgive me for testing you."
"That was a test?" Eddie was sorely tempted to make his pending release impossible by beating the shit out of his doctor. Wasn't it well for him that Eddie wanted out so badly!
"Yes. You're nearly ready to be discharged from this hospital but we want you to leave under the best possible conditions. One concern is that we have received more correspondence from your parents and your father is determined to take you back home, so I needed to expose your true feelings about that."
"I am not going."
"I understand. Another issue is that you need paperwork completed in order to receive your pension. And you need a doctor who knows about vision, and a suitable job. We had to determine if you were really mentally prepared to be responsible for yourself."
"You're confusing me. Can you give it to me straight?" The doctor didn't seem to be capable of giving direct answers, yet he wondered why the men with shell shock didn't trust him?
"All right. First, let me reassure you that with the great help you've been around here, nobody's going to question your competence and nobody's going to send you anywhere that you don't want to go."
"Good—because nobody can make me leave my wife, especially not my father."
"Your relationship is not amicable?"
"He was so adamant about me working in the mine that I ran away when I was fourteen."
Harris shifted as though he wanted to pace, but there was no room with all the extra people present. "He seems a very domineering gentleman, from the correspondence we've had from him."
Eddie wished he could see. Who were the other people in the room? Surely not his father! "My father was never cruel to me. He was simply determined that I should follow in his footsteps and he had no patience to hear out my preferences."
"I see. And if you cannot do the work for which you were groomed?"
"I'm a trained classical musician. I can make my own way. I may go back to Canada someday, with my wife, but I will not be going back to live in Newfoundland. Not even to visit."
"Why not?" Harris sounded shocked. "Do you hate your parents that much?"
"Hah! I don't hate them at all, but that has no bearing on me going home. Can you imagine me walking around St. John?" He winced. "What people would say to me about being one of sixty survivors of Beaumont-Hamel? The widows? The mothers who lost their boys? And I am alive, while their loved ones perished?"
"They have venerated the survivors as heroes."
"I'm not a hero. People would pity me because I can't see. No, thank you. I'd rather live practically anywhere else."
"Well, we've collected all the papers you're going to need. We just need to get the formalities out of the way, and then you'll have to sign everything."
Unconsciously, he tipped down his chin. "Sign papers I can't read?"
"I'll read them to you, and then show you where to sign."
Eddie shook his head. "I hope you will forgive me, doctor, but as you've just been threatening to send me back to Newfoundland to live as a dependent upon my parents, I'm going to require someone I trust to read everything and make sure it's jake (xii)."
"I understand your reticence. Shall we proceed with the examinations, and then my colleagues can write and sign their portions of the paperwork and depart? Then, we can get your representative here to go over the details, although I don't know whom you think might be qualified. A lawyer, perhaps?"
"Of course not. My wife, Isobel. She will be here shortly after oh-fifteen-hundred this afternoon."
"A woman?" One of the men in the room snorted.
Edward set his jaw. "My wife was the most Senior Nurse under Matron White at the Number Five Base Hospital near Ypres, where she served for three years. Her quick actions have saved the lives of many hundreds of men. Mrs. Masen has performed surgeries when no surgeon was available, she reads medical textbooks for fun, she has a firm grasp on legal matters and finances, and best of all she is loyal to me. Never disparage my wife, sir, or I shall knock your block off." (xiii)
"You shall, eh?" he laughed with glee.
"Do you think I can't?" Eddie asked, his voice dangerously soft.
"No, no, I wouldn't try you. I'm well-aware you were a hero at the Salient. Pushed back those Huns, eh?"
The Canadian patois unnerved him. "Who are you?"
"I work for your father. He's been searching for you a long time without success, Anthony, but I found you were Edward Masen in the lists. I'm an agent of inquiry."
Eddie took a few deep breaths. "Dr. Harris, I want this hawkshaw (xiv) ejected. He is not here in my best interest."
"Lieutenant Masen," the man said. "May I not send word to your mother that you are well? Your parents have been frantic for over three years. Will you not at least—"
"Send my love to my mother. And tell them… I am fine. And that I will not be coming home."
"Lieutenant—"
"I have nothing more to say to this gentleman." The room grew so quiet that the ticking of the clock became overbearing. At last, the man stepped forward, sought Eddie's hand and shook it. "You're a brave soul, Lieutenant Masen, and so I shall tell your parents. I wish you every success, sir."
"Do you?" Edward said coldly.
"Indeed, I do, and I shall remember you every day for the rest of my life. God bless." After clasping Eddie's shoulder kindly, he departed.
Eddie shrugged away his nerves and crossed his arms. "Perhaps, to be polite, Dr. Harris, you could introduce me to the other gentlemen in this room."
"Forgive me," Harris said. "You have adapted so well that I forget you cannot see. Lieutenant Ashby is here to record a report of your physical state, in order to document your discharge."
"Lieutenant." Edward stuck out his hand and Ashby took it. It did not escape Eddie's notice that the man had a good look at his hand while they shook. In fact, he turned it over and inspected it from various angles.
"Looks like he'll still be able to fire a gun."
Eddie calmly withdrew his hand from view. "In case it has escaped your notice, I can't see."
"Well, that's the issue isn't it, Lieutenant?" an older-sounding Englishman said cheerfully. "How bad it is, and whether it's permanent."
Eddie licked his lip nervously. The man got right up close to him. He was balding, with white hair and faded blue eyes, and wore a kind smile. Eddie immediately took a shine to him.
"I am Dr. Heath. I have some experience restoring vision." (xv)
Eddie wiped his palms on his trousers and shook hands with him. "You'll be able to tell me? If I'm blind forever?"
"Hard to say, most of the time. Ocular science is a very new field of study. But I should be able to tell if your eyes are healing. You'll allow me to look?"
"Yes, of course."
"Very good. I will need to move your chair over by the window."
Before Dr. Heath could move, Eddie picked up his chair and angled himself in it as directed.
"You're rather a useful person, aren't you? Like to do things for yourself."
Ashby scribbled notes loudly.
Eddie grimaced. "I'm blind, not lame. And I'm not a dunce."
"Of course not. All right, I'm going to hold up this lens to your eye and use my mirror to reflect light into it. It may be painful."
"Okay."
The doctor got his face so close to Eddie's that their cheeks touched. He wore far too much cologne. A sharp beam of light entered Eddie's left eye and he yelped. The doctor rubbed Eddie's shoulder while Eddie pressed his palm to his stinging eye.
"Okay, okay, that's enough. May I examine the other?"
Eddie took deep breaths as tears welled. "Give me a minute."
"Come on," Ashby groused. "We haven't got all day."
"For God's sake, man!" Dr. Harris snapped. "Give him a moment!"
"We have more soldiers to see."
"I'll remind you that this man took four German officers prisoner at St. Julien when he was fifteen years old!"
"Exactly. So we want to know when we can have him back. If he's really that brave—"
"I'm all right now." Eddie tried to quash the tremble in his voice.
"You are a brave man," Dr. Heath said. "Don't let anyone imply otherwise." He shone light into Eddie's right eye. It was still sharp but not nearly as painful. "This one's your better eye, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Is he going to be able to see, or not?" Ashby snapped. There was dead silence.
"Dr. Harris," Dr. Heath said calmly, "Will you give Lieutenant Masen a cold cloth, please?"
"Indeed." Dr. Harris poured water out of his drinking pitcher onto a large white handkerchief and passed it to Eddie, who pressed it to his eyes and sighed.
"Lieutenant Ashby," Dr. Heath directed, "write up Lieutenant Masen an Honourable Discharge due to functional blindness. Ensure he gets his Silver War Badge, his campaign medals and anything else to which he is entitled. Dr. Harris, your secretary should do up all the paperwork for Lieutenant Masen's pension and future educational training, and I will be glad to sign any and all supporting documents."
"Thank you, Doctor," Harris said. "Shall we take a break and go for dinner now?"
"Not yet." Dr. Heath sank to one knee beside Eddie. "All right, are you ready to hear my possibly-useful opinion?"
Eddie gripped his knees. He wished they wouldn't tremble in front of Ashby, who had, for some reason, an awful lot of disdain for him. He nodded curtly.
"In my professional opinion, there's a tonne of shit in your eyes that doesn't belong."
Eddie laughed a bit. "Will you put that in the report?"
"In so many words. Some of the shrapnel may work its way out. Some of it may embed itself further in." This wasn't news. Dr. Marcus had told Bella that months before and she had relayed the message to Eddie. "However," Dr. Heath continued, "there's one piece that's quite pricking your left eye. Can you feel it when you blink? On your lower lid?"
"Yes."
"Removing it probably won't improve your vision, but if it stays in, it may shift and cause more damage. In my opinion, it should come out."
"How?"
"If you're up to it, I'll do it right now."
Eddie gulped. "Now?"
"I'm going for my dinner," Ashby said loudly. "I'll come back afterward to work on the papers." He beat a hasty retreat.
"And that man treats you like a malingerer," (xvi) Heath whispered. "He's the coward in the room." Eddie hummed a laugh despite himself.
"The foreign body is visible to the naked eye so I don't really want to sedate you. Laudanum would give you a sick stomach for hours. Removing the speck will only take a few seconds."
"All right."
"Dr. Harris, please assist me by standing where I am now."
"Of course."
"Let me just get my tweezers." He stepped away and back again. "Now, Edward, Dr. Harris will hold your face quite firmly. I want you to stare at him. Do not move your eyes toward me."
Unless he wanted his eyeball to resemble a scrambled egg. "Understood." Eddie tried not to get his wind up as Dr. Heath showed Dr. Harris how to position Eddie's face. Dr. Harris gripped Eddie securely between his hands.
"Steady on, good man," he said, his brown eyes bright but reflecting concern.
There was a rush of motion and a horrible metal-clacking-on-metal sound, and then the feeling of something smooth squelching and slipping through his eyeball. Oh, God, oh God, oh God…
The thing in his eye twisted and jammed.
"F-fuck!" Eddie cried, and Dr. Harris held him in a viselike grip.
"Don't move, Eddie. Keep still, there's a good fellow."
Eddie grasped Harris's wrists. "Ow!" Tears welled and soaked his cheeks.
Harris attempted to look encouraging. "Steady on. He's nearly done." Eddie kept still but his breath hummed in and out with fright.
Dr. Heath turned the tweezers and the pain vanished for an instant, to be replaced by burning. "All done. I have it."
Dr. Harris handed Eddie the wet handkerchief, and Eddie managed to bring it to his eye without dropping it. He reeled and Dr. Harris pulled him over to lean against his torso.
"Such a brave lad," he said while Eddie tried not to pass out.
"This must have caused quite a lot of pain," Dr. Heath mused. "Can you see it, Edward?"
Eddie straightened up and angled his right eye toward him. The shard was like a big splinter—a full centimetre long—and it was grayish white.
"What is it?" Harris asked. "Wood?"
"Oh, no," Heath scoffed. "It's bone."
Eddie's voice caught. "It's D-Dildo. Douglass. Jeremy Douglass, Sapper, Blue Puttees."
︻┳═一
Isobel expected to find Eddie in the patients' canteen, but saw only Emmett. He frantically waved her over.
"Hello, Cap! Where's Eddie?"
Emmett's throat worked desperately. "Jazz!"
"Jasper's with Eddie?"
Emmett nodded and pointed at his eye. "Out."
"I dinnae understand, dearie."
Emmett picked up his spoon, aimed it at his eye and pretended to scoop out his eyeball. "Out. Ops. Ops Mace Out."
"Isobel's heart flew into her throat. "Are ye trying to tell me Eddie's had an operation?"
Emmett nodded with obvious relief. Isobel spun on her heel and hot-footed it upstairs.
︻┳═一
When she tiptoed into his room, she found the draperies closed and the room dim. Jasper was sitting on the right side of Eddie's cot, fully dressed. Eddie was curled up under the covers with his back to him, facing the window. He was dressed in his pyjamas. Isobel peeked at his face. His left eye was bandaged and he was asleep with his mouth open.
"What's happened?" Bella whispered.
Jasper sighed and rubbed his right temple with the heel of his hand. "I don't know what's wrong with our Brass."
"Jasper."
"He's doped to the gills on laudanum. Evidently some eye surgeon looked at him this afternoon, and decided to pluck some shrapnel out of Mace's bad eye while he was fully conscious and watching. Moron didn't even think to give Mace something to relax him, first. Doc Harris said the surgeon plucked out a piece of human bone. Mace told them about Dildo and then had hysterics. They couldn't calm him down. He was screaming when the orderlies brought him in."
"Dildo?"
"One of his enlisted men. Mace said he couldn't follow an order to save his life. Dildo stepped on one of Mace's mines. That's why he can't see."
"Dildo's in his eyes." Bella closed hers. "That's what he meant. Dear God. Poor Eddie."
︻┳═一
Isobel couldn't have appeared more frightening if she'd been storming across No Man's Land in Ypres. She marched straight for Dr. Harris, who was standing blithely in the lobby.
"Ah, Mrs. Masen," Dr. Harris inclined his head and gestured toward his office. "Thank you for coming. I want to have a word about your husband."
Isobel clenched her fists and resisted demanding what the hell he'd been thinking. "From now on, Doctor, I insist upon being informed in advance if mae husband is tae haff any medical procedures done."
"It was a spur of the moment decision. Dr. Heath felt it couldn't wait. Please do come in." He strolled over to the very chair Eddie had sat upon that morning, and placed his hands on the back so she might sit safely. He strode around her and hitched a hip onto the corner of his desk. "Your husband is an amazing man."
She blinked, then, raised her chin. "He is."
"I have a great deal of respect for him. No doubt, he will be able to leave this hospital soon."
"He is getting better, is he not?"
Dr. Harris tipped down his chin and eyed her candidly. "Do you have reason to believe he isn't?"
"No. He told me it was the shock and he will not harm himself again."
"That is also my impression." The doctor tucked his chin and looked at her intently. "You know about the nightmares?"
"I do. They are the worst when he is alone. When I am with him, I can soothe him and he does nae start tae scream."
"You do not fear him?"
She looked down and smiled. "No. Almost since we met, I have been afraid for him, but I have neffer been afraid of him."
Dr. Harris sighed and looked out the window. "Some of the men who have night terrors get violent in their sleep."
"I know. It happened all the time in Flanders."
"I have had men here who tried to strangle the nurses who were trying to wake them."
"Eddie?"
"No, not Eddie. But it could happen."
"I dinnae think so. He's a sweet man."
"He's been stoic during his time here. That's why I didn't think he needed to be sedated this morning."
"The man's aye stubborn."
"He'll need to be stubborn to adapt to civilian life."
"Yes."
"Mrs. Masen, I am wondering…"
"Yes?"
"What your opinion might be. Do you think it would be a horrible idea for me to offer your husband a job?"
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i Phantom limb: when a person suffers an amputation, he or she can often feel the missing part. Sometimes one will bend to scratch an itchy foot that isn't there. It's disconcerting and frustrating.
ii Plonk: red wine
iii Quince: a small English fruit that tastes like a very mild apple. I love quince jam. My aunt's neighbour had a tree but when she moved, no more quince for us. Sigh. It's very hard to get here in Canada.
iv Humdinger: something outstanding or excellent.
v It's really a wonder the human race has survived. In Edwardian times, it was preferable to produce bread that was as white and heavy as possible. To that end, the merchants who sold the flour would adulterate it with such ingredients as plaster of Paris, alum, bean flour or chalk.
vi Fags: cigarettes. Rothman was a brand owned by Phillip Morris Co. Rothman went out of business in the 1990s. Dunhill is an old British tobacconist, which is now one of the ten most expensive brands in the world. Smokers claim it's a superior product. I wouldn't know. Actually, I've never even tried a cigarette. My grandfather, however, was addicted to Rothman's since childhood. He ended up an 8-pack-a-day smoker and passed away in his sleep at age 89, never knowing he had lung cancer.
vii Lucifers: The Lucifer Match Company made wooden matches with tips that contained phosphorus.
viii Dunhill's aquarium-themed lighters were extremely popular and are valuable today. There's a picture of one on my Facebook.
ix The First Battle of the Aisne: Sept 12, 1914 to Sept 28, 1914. The Germans retreated after the Battle of the Marne and found a place to entrench themselves beside the River Aisne. The Allies and the Germans were fighting tired. However, the German Army was better at defending its lines than it was at accomplishing offenses. Neither side could gain the upper hand. Finally, both sides began to edge toward the north in a campaign that would come to be known as The Race to the Sea.
x Neurasthenia was a vague term coined in 1869, which was applied to a wide variety of "nervous" disorders. Today, the Neurasthenia cases described in the Great War would likely be comparable to cases of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Officers during the Great War were particularly susceptible. To be diagnosed with Shell Shock was to be exposed to the ruling opinion that it was hypochondriac and the sufferer was merely a coward. Upper Brass didn't want their officers to be seen as malingering cowards, so they named the officers' form of Shell Shock—which was markedly different from Shell Shock—Neurasthenia. Those with Neurasthenia tended to lapse into fugue states, lose track of what was going on around them, and forget the words for things. They had the recognizable symptoms of exhaustion combined with what we now know to be Post-traumatic Stress.
xi Red tape: it is thought that Spain's King Charles V began to bind his most urgent court documents in red tape in the 1500s, signifying that they were to be opened before documents that were bound with ordinary twine. Over time, its use became widespread. Now the term refers to the systematic collection or sequencing of forms and procedures required to gain bureaucratic approval for something, especially when the procedures are oppressively complex and inhibit action.
xii Jake: all right, okay, on the up-and-up
xiii Knock your block off: beat you severely. The word block, meaning head, has been in use since the 1600s but this idiomatic phrase only came into use around 1908.
xiv Hawkshaw: detective
xv There were no ophthalmologists before the end of the war. WWI created the need for two entirely new orders of medicine: eye surgeons and surgeons who specialized in facial reconstruction. WWI also caused the emergence of blood transfusions and IV drips (for hydration and wound irrigation), but not before late 1917.
xvi Malingerer: a person who pretends illness or disability in order to shirk his or her duties.