On Thursday morning, Henry walked with Anthony to see Dr. Rivers. It wasn't usual but Henry had done that a few times. However, this time was different because Henry accompanied him inside.
"Ah, Henry…. Do come in," Dr. Rivers called to the younger man. Have a seat." Anthony was confused but said nothing as both he and Henry settled into chairs in Rivers' study. "I hope you don't mind, Anthony, but I've asked young Henry and some other chaps to join us today." A knock was heard at the door and soon three other men were seated around the room.
"I thought it might help Sir Anthony here, if there were others here who fought in some of the same battles he did, so I've invited you all. Might help you, as well, to talk about what happened," Rivers explained. The other men nodded but Anthony wasn't comfortable. How could he be? The others at least remembered the events and he would have nothing to contribute.
The session began with Dr. Rivers introducing everyone and then speaking in general terms about their wounds, both physically and mentally. Anthony realized that all of the other men suffered some of his same demons, night terrors and over reacting to loud noises being the most common. All bore physical wounds as well, again some worse than others. In his own mind, Anthony judged that the man sitting on the other side of Henry had the worst since he'd been gassed. He'd have breathing issues all of his life. The young man, Reggie Blakestone, had only been in the army a few weeks when his unit was gassed at Ypres in 1915. Leaning forward in his chair, he began to describe his experience. "I were just a private and when me Sergeant said to move, I went. Didn't get very far before the clouds of gas hit us. It were chlorine gas. Horrible. Men all around me, coughing and vomiting… dying. One of me mates doused his kerchief in water to cover his face because it were burning his skin. Seemed to help him so we all started doing it. That's the only reason I'm here. Doctor said that the water in the rags we used helped to keep it from reaching our lungs. Still, it did enough damage." Reggie settled back in his seat, a somber expression settling over him. "Were horrible. Didn't know how rotten men could treat each other 'til then."
"Thank you, Reggie. And yes, it was horrible. One wonders about the demented minds that dream up such atrocities."
"War is an atrocity in itself," another man said. Lewis Staples had been at university when the war broke out but was quickly commissioned as an officer and sent with the British Expeditionary Force to France. He'd fought at Mons and Le Cateau, where he'd been wounded. "Just a bit of shrapnel really, in my left leg. Doctors thought they'd got it all but another little bit worked its way to the surface last year. Might have more in there that hasn't shown up yet. But in '14, they patched me up and sent me back to my unit just in time to be at Ypres. There was so much chaos and instead of the quick maneuvers from before, it seemed to me to simply be an attempt at attrition. Who could kill the most enemy soldiers? Whatever strategy there was didn't seem to change the lines much. There were so many dead that the only way to advance was to climb over the corpses of our own troops. It was madness." Lewis shook his head sadly, "simply complete madness." He took a deep breath and continued. "The weather turned cold and it began to rain and snow. Instead of battles being fought around any strategic sites, little ones broke out when portions of the amies collided. The trenches began to fill with water, which then began to freeze and frostbite became the greater enemy. I was wounded again in early December, this time a bullet in my arm. Earned me a trip home for three months to recuperate in a hospital on the south coast. Reported back to the front in March. Weather was warming by then but nothing else had changed much. Both sides sniping and our lads dug into the trenches for cover. It was at Ypres that I first saw gas in use. Nasty business for both sides. "
Lewis sighed. "There was a small village near the lines. As we moved toward the village, the Germans began to fire on the people. There was no reason…women, children, old men… just cut down in the road. I saw… I saw a few soldiers chase two girls, no older than fifteen or sixteen, and once they caught the girls, they raped them. They took turns and… and when they had finished… they used their bayonets to … to …erm… you know…" A sob escaped him as he fought for composure. "The girls bled to death from… the bayonets. They were in the road, screaming and crying and begging for help but we were under orders not to separate from our unit, so we couldn't break off and chase the bastards away… save the girls. Our sergeant said it was just a couple of frog tarts anyway and not worth getting killed over. But…" He grew silent as tears rolled down his face.
Rivers looked across at Anthony. "You had a dream that was similar."
Anthony, lost in the images of Lewis' story, blinked in a startled way. "Erm, yes. Wasn't a small village though. Probably many more people… and my dream was of nuns being mistreated."
"I saw some of that too," Henry piped in. "It was late summer and we'd been fighting all around Verdun for months. There was this little village near there, Fleury, where some nuns… medical sisters that had been helping soldiers from both sides… they um, they had a small group there working in the village hall. German soldiers overran the village. Most of the villagers fled but the sisters stayed to tend the wounded. The Germans shot our soldiers that were in the sisters' care. And a few of them beat and raped some of the sisters. I… I was one of the wounded soldiers there. I managed to look dead but I wasn't. I had to lie there and stay still while they … did what they did. I wanted to help but my wounds; I couldn't. One of the nuns was so badly mistreated that she died. When it was all over and the Germans left, the sisters just cleaned everything up, buried the dead and took care of the living, like nothing had happened. But I could hear them crying at night. Some of the villagers came back and one of them went to find our troops. A few days later, some men arrived with a doctor and some nurses and ambulances. We all were sent behind the lines to a medical camp and sorted there. The sisters argued about leaving Fleury but the captain wouldn't have it."
Henry paused and looked at Anthony. "Then you arrived, sir. You had another man with you. You'd been over near Douaumont, surveilling I suppose. Anyway, when you heard what had happened and saw the captain arguing with the sisters, you took things in hand. I heard you tell the captain that he wasn't going to get anywhere intimidating the women who had already been so brutally abused by German soldiers. Then you went to the sisters and just talked to them, explained why it was impossible for them to stay, and very gently coaxed them to go back with our men. You told them some of what you'd seen and that very soon, the area around Fleury would be overrun. Finally, they began to see reason and agreed to go back with us. You must have spoken to some of the villagers too because I saw them leaving again as we were moving out. But then, you just disappeared again… off toward the fort at Souville. We were sent all the way back to Verdun. I heard later that Fleury had been taken by the Germans just two days after we left."
"I saw you in the war too, Major Strallan," the other man joined in. "I know you don't remember me but I remember you. I'm Tom, Tom Nettles. I was a captain by the time I met you in '16- Somme. Saw you first at Albert. Our men from the 4th pushed hard on the Germans and were doing well, but things fell apart to the north. Lost thousands that day. I saw you with Haig at a meeting of the commanders a day or two later, as I was on Rawlinson's staff. Once Haig finished his assignments and things were breaking up, you spoke to several of the commanders, including Rawlinson about movements in the German lines. You gave him good information, saved lives with that intelligence."
"Next saw you at Delville Wood. You'd made your way behind enemy lines and shared intelligence with the South Africans to the south of us. Saw with my own eyes when you and your man came running towards us from the Germans. Don't know how you made it, but you did. Your man took a bullet in the leg and you somehow scooped him and kept running. By the time you reached us, you were gasping for breath and had a bullet in your side along with a couple of grazes on your arm and leg. Before you'd let the medics treat you, you insisted on reporting to Rawlinson what you'd seen. Rawlinson sang your praises to anyone who'd listen. I suppose you were sent to one of the field hospitals after that because we didn't see you again until October. You'd somehow found your way into the trenches with the Yorkshire Light Infantry. There was terrible resistance along that line and to make matters worse, our communications suffered a massive breakdown. You brought intelligence back to Rawlinson from the line there. We couldn't seem to push forward but your information helped us hold the line. After that, you disappeared. We heard that you'd been sent behind the lines again."
"Speaking to others, it seemed like you were a ghost of sorts, moving around all over, appearing and disappearing just as quickly. But you always had good intelligence and would even argue with the generals when it seemed they were sending us into traps. Had friends in other units who said the same thing. Don't know how you were in so many places, usually critical ones, and gathered the information we needed but you did." Nettles concluded with a respectful nod of his head in Anthony's direction.
Anthony sat in his chair, overwhelmed by these reports of his actions. "I… I'm truly grateful to you all; I know that talking about those events, reliving them, is difficult for you. I wish I could remember you…" He stood and moved around the room, shaking the hand of each man. "I know Dr. Rivers thinks this will help me and I hope it does, but no matter what I shall always remember your great courage."
"You're the one with all the courage, sir." Reggie stood up and saluted Anthony. "We went where we were told to go and did what we were told to do. But you had to find your way into enemy lines, gather information, and somehow get back with it. Must've taken a lot of quick thinking and courage to do that."
All Anthony could do was return the man's salute and then sit back in his chair as he fought tears. If nothing else, he at least was talking to men who had been where he had been and understood something about him that he didn't even know. He really found it hard to believe all the things the men said about his actions in the war, but he was grateful to hear that at least, he had helped in some small way.
Henry walked back to the house with him, both men silent as their minds lingered on the morning's session. As they arrived at the door, Anthony turned to Henry. "Thank you, Henry, for everything. I don't know how I would be fairing without you and your family here supporting me. Edith is my rock, my anchor but you have been… all of you have been most supportive and I am very grateful."
"You saved our lives, sir. Maybe not directly but you did; mine and so many others. I can never repay you, none of us who are alive today because of your actions could. But helping now, it's something I suppose." All Anthony could do was offer a wane smile as the two men entered the house.
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