20th February 1942
With a lump in his throat, Bert, along with Johnny, Peter, Andrew, and five other soldiers went to the tent where the general was waiting for them.
They just visited the sergeant of their section who was on a medical tent; he had an infected wound on his right forearm.
"What do you think the General wants from us?" Johnny asked.
"I don't know," Peter shrugged, "maybe he asks us things about Sergeant Scotts health."
Bert raised an eyebrow: "Wouldn't it be better if 'e just called you, Peter? I just don't understand… Why the whole section?"
"Maybe one of us will be promoted."
"Good objection, Jerry," Andrew said to Private Jerry Butterfield, "we need a new sergeant."
Bert stopped and turned to Andrew: "We don't need a new sergeant. As soon as Felix is better- "
"Didn't you hear what the doc said to Pegg, Alfred!? He could lose his arm! "
"I always try t' see the positive things, Andrew Stone." He pronounced the name as sarcastic as possible.
"Hey!" Johnny said as Bert and Andrew built up more and more in front of each other and the latter even grabbed Bert's collar, "Enough, guys! You are no longer pubescent adolescents! Let's go to the general and we'll find out what he wants."
"'e's right," the former chimney sweep hissed through his teeth.
Andrew let go of him, but not without giving him another punch in the chest that staggered Bert. Fortunately, Peter was right behind Bert so that he could keep him from falling. "Don't worry," the medic said reassuringly, "I just hope he won't be our sergeant ..."
The two followed the others, but stayed a meter away from the rest of the group.
"'ow is Felix really doin'?" Bert was worried about him. The section was founded just a few months ago, but he liked the sergeant.
"Not good. But you know him: he doesn't want to unsettle anyone... As Andrew said, the doctor said that it is very likely that he will lose his forearm..."
The corporal eyed the young medic: he looked worried.
In addition to Johnny, Peter developed into Bert's problem child. He made an incredible effort and has learned much in the past few months; he was a really good medic now. The private also wanted to be a doctor... But then everything turned out differently than expected when he had to go to war. In the eyes of Bert, the paramedic tried too hard and put his own needs completely in the background. Unfortunately, this was exploited by some.
Bert had to smile when he thought back to the day several weeks ago when Peter asked him shyly about his experience as a medic. Bert was also certain that Peter and Elizabeth would get along very well; at least they both had a topic which interested both of them.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he only noticed that they were at their destination when Peter held the tarpaulin so Bert could enter the tent. Bert stepped in and stood behind the others.
The general stood before them. The soldiers saluted and he took a step towards them.
However, Bert couldn't assess whether there was good or bad news waiting for them; his face was too neutral.
"I have a mission for you," he started as he slowly walked down the front row of the soldiers; the general's voice was as neutral as his facial expressions. However, none of the men dared to ask him what kind of mission it will be and so they waited patiently. "Your section will travel back to England and join another division there... Home defence."
The men's eyes lit up when they heard this; only Bert had a bad feeling about it. Yes, he was happy that he was allowed to go back 'home', but still an inner voice told him that it was by no means good or long-lasting.
"You will be leaving next week."
The general explained to the men which division they were going to, what had to be considered during the transit and that they would stop in Paris for three days.
The soldiers were about to leave when the general spoke up again: "Just a moment," they turned, "which one of you is Corporal Herbert Alfred?"
"That's me, sir," Bert said and was given room by the others so that he could step in front of the general.
The man examined him before taking a step forward: "Corporal Herbert Alfred, I hereby appoint you sergeant. Congratulations" he patted the newly promoted man on the shoulder briefly before stepping away. "Take good care of yourself and your section. Step away. "
The men left the tent and walked the path they had just come from. As soon as the soldiers were out of earshot, Johnny and Peter patted Bert on the back at the same time as Andrew walked past him with a contemptuous look.
"Congratulations Bertie-Boy… even if it was the weirdest promotion I've ever seen"
"You mean Sergeant Bertie-Boy, Johnny," Peter said with a wink.
Bert stopped: Thank you, but you don't have t' congratulate me… Really. It's not somethin' I'm proud of. "
With these words, the sergeant disappeared into a quiet corner and sat on a log. The other soldiers watched him, but left him alone.
Sergeant Herbert Alfred echoed in his head and he sat there for a moment in silence.
He didn't know how long he had been sitting there motionless and lost in thought when he took a sheet of paper and a pen from his pocket; he had the need to write a letter:
Dearest Mary,
I know I wrote my last letter only a few days ago, but a lot has happened today.
The first thing I learned today was that Felix might lose his forearm. We visited him today and he said that he was fine and that he would be with us again soon. However, Peter told me that the doctor disagreed. And an amputation could probably save his life in this case.
But that was not everything.
The general was there and send my section to a "mission": We change the division and go back to England. Home defence.
To be honest, I don't know if I should be happy that I'm going back home or not. Because my feeling tells me that it will be anything but easy.
Especially since I have to take care of my section now.
Yes, you read that correctly: my section. Because I was just promoted to sergeant on this occasion.
It's all so surreal right now. I have the feeling that I won't care about anything soon.
I'm more scared every day, Mary. And from day to day I miss you more.
I wish nothing more than that this damn war will be over soon. I want to hug you, kiss you and look you in the eyes when I say "I love you".
Enough about me: how are you? How is the new family doing? And did you hear anything from Lizzy? I wrote her a letter less than a week ago but received no response. I'm starting to worry... She usually answers within a day or two.
I will write to you again as soon as there is something new. Or I will write another letter before I leave next week.
Take care of yourself.
I love you,
Bert
He put the letter in his breast pocket so that he could send it later and took out the little sketchbook and put it aside.
But this was a mistake, because shortly afterwards Andrew came and took the book.
"Let's see what our little wannabe artist scribbles in his little book," he flipped through the pages and let out a dirty laugh.
Bert jumped up and tried to get his book back, unsuccessfully. "Give that back!"
Andrew held the book up and continued flipping through it: "You and your imagination about women. Take a look at yourself... You will get not more than an ugly, blind woman. Oh!", He discovered a drawing of Liz, it showed her shortly before Berts departure, "I remember her… I think I said a couple of months ago that I would take her."
Andrew tore the page out and lovelessly put it in his pocket. Bert petrified for a moment and looked at him disbelieving. This guy really stopped at nothing.
In the meantime Johnny and Peter had come.
"Already forgot that he's your sergeant now!?" the medic said reproachfully.
"Give me my book back!" Said Bert angrily after he found his words again, "That's an order!"
Silence.
Bert never wanted to do or say anything like that, but he had no choice. He had said this so loudly that other soldiers peered around the corner and wanted to know what just happened.
With a scowl, Andrew pressed the book against Bert's chest violently.
"Don't think I have respect for you now, Sergeant," he emphasised the last word as if he was about to vomit. And to make his point clear, the corporal spat at Bert's feet.
As always, I would be very happy about your reviews :)
(Please don't be too strict with me when it comes to historical accuracy. Unfortunately, I don't find everything in my research.)