Beginning, Previous Section, Section XXXV, Next Section
"People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they never use." - Kierkegaard
"Thank goodness you've made it." Parker dragged Darcy and Chris into the room the minute they arrived.
"What's up?" Chris frowned suspiciously at Parker, while Darcy abruptly paled.
"Just a minor problem..." Parker temporised the matter as he lead the two men into the main room.
"Minor problem!" It was an irate roar which came from the room. "You call the abduction of yet another of my daughters a minor problem?"
"Colonel Bennet, please." Parker turned to the irate parent and as a result did not see Darcy clench his hands to prevent the trembling and ram them into his pockets.
"How do you know she's abducted?" Darcy lifted an enquiring eyebrow at Mr. Bennet.
"I know because I was damn well told by a friend of hers."
"Captain Ashington-Frankston?" Chris asked the question quickly.
"Something like that." Mr. Bennet shrugged.
"When?"
"We're uncertain when, all we know is that Sister Bennet boarded the train with a patient and she didn't get off at her set destination."
"When?"
"1st of March, we've been trying to get hold of you ever since Colonel Bennet came to me on the 5th."
"Twenty-four hours Darcy?" Chris barely moved his head as he asked the question, he had been watching Darcy's hands in silent fascination.
"Less." Darcy turned and left the room, with Chris directly behind him.
"What the...!" Mr. Bennet spluttered as he stared at the closed door. "I thought you said they would help."
"They will. I suspect that in forty-eight hours your daughter will be returned to you....dead or alive, but she'll come in the condition they find her."
"Much they care. I thought that Darcy was worthwhile, now I'm not so sure......he was shaking like jelly." Mr. Bennet's tone was bitter.
"I think you'd be surprised Colonel, what you just heard was the passing of a death sentence."
"A death sentence?" Mr. Bennet looked stunned. "How do you know? They spoke five words and were in here for less than a second."
"Call it telepathy if you like, but they knew who they were after the minute you mentioned your daughter....and I can promise you he will get little mercy from Chris and even less mercy from Darcy."
"But they can't leave the city, there's a curfew in place....it's well after midnight."
"If curfews were of the slightest inconvenience to men like those two, we would have lost this war long ago. Even you should know that."
"But......I had not realised that you used Officers for such jobs." Mr. Bennet frowned at Parker in puzzlement.
"We only use them when they have such a knack for the business." Parker gave a small smile. "The Army got Darcy first, but we borrow him as often as we possibly can."
"Oh." Mr. Bennet's expression was blank, and his mind was only slightly less so.
Elizabeth frowned out the window, below her the snow sloped away gently and into the village of St. Euvais, before it climbed up to a small cottage, before it climbed even further up and into the Alps.
"A nice view is it not?" Nickel's voice abruptly came from behind her, and only by a display of strong will did Elizabeth smother the scream she wanted to make.
"Lovely." Elizabeth nodded gravely. "What's the little cottage up there?"
"Ahh, Ville de Tour, a charming cottage is it not? Your husband was up there until four and a half weeks ago."
"Was he." It wasn't a question in the way Elizabeth uttered it, bored disinterest which belied the excitement that had abruptly filled her heart, if Darcy had been up there maybe she could escape.
"Yes, unfortunately the Alps proved too much for him and his friends."
"How sad." Elizabeth tired of the view and finally turned back to face the room. "Did you come here for a reason?"
"Well." Nickel tilted his head. "No, just to tell you that we will probably be leaving tonight."
"Oh....where are we going?"
"Germany my dear." Nickel smiled, then turned and left the room.
Germany. Elizabeth had never believed that a single word could so depress one before. Germany. In that one word Elizabeth knew that come this evening her last hope would die. If only she could delay things. But how? At worst they'd just carry her to the car, and that was an indignity Elizabeth had no intention of suffering.
The sun seemed to positively fly across the sky and melt through the horizon in a ball of liquid gold. Elizabeth eyed the beautiful sunset with extreme bitterness. Beauty had no right to appear at a time like this, what Elizabeth wanted was a miserable overcast evening where the sun just seemed to be extinguished like a lamp being blown out.
"Oh David." Elizabeth's head slumped forward on her arms and silent, tearless sobs shook her violently.
When Nickel entered an hour later into the dim room all he found was a silent and contained woman who greeted him with a formal smile.
"Are you ready to leave?"
"I doubt it would make any difference if I said I were not, so I will say that I am." Elizabeth rose to her feet.
"True, but I still have manners."
"Obviously not good manners." Elizabeth pulled on her coat as she replied.
"Now that is one I like." Nickel blinked slowly, he looked like he was going to say more but whatever he was intending to say was not said as the door crashed viciously back on its hinges and a dark shadow edged into the room, revolver on the ready. Elizabeth leapt back to the wall as an immense shadow came lunging in and caught Nickel by the throat. She was wondering whether to take advantage of the fuss to escape but then she stopped.
"DARCY!" Chris lunged across the room and grabbed Darcy's arm. There was a slight movement and Chris went crashing back across the room. He slammed into the wall a foot off the ground and subsided into a limp heap on the floor. Elizabeth's jaw had dropped as she watched it happen. Darcy hardly appeared to move, yet Chris had gone flying.
Chris blinked woozily and struggled to focus his gaze, he could make out the dim figures, Darcy had his hands wrapped around Nickel's throat. Nickel was clawing and struggling, fighting to get air, and standing a short distance behind Chris could see Elizabeth staring with disbelief at the scene, her eyes alternating back and forth between himself and Darcy's back. Then suddenly Nickel stopped fighting, his hands dropped to his sides, one going into his pocket.
"David! NO!" Chris struggled to keep his focus as he watched Elizabeth plunge across the room and grab Darcy's arm. "NO! David you CAN'T DO THAT! STOP IT!" Finally Darcy seemed to hear her and he froze as Elizabeth caught his arm.
"What was that madam?" His voice was cold, cracking ice.
"NO! You can't do it David......LET HIM GO!" Elizabeth was shaking Darcy's arm, her voice desperate as she seemed to emphasize every letter. Chris had the feeling that if the scene wasn't so deadly and dangerous, and if his head did not ache so he was certain he would be amused by the sight.
"Very well madam." Darcy's hands dropped, then abruptly his right hand lifted again and Nickel flew across the room before he slammed into the wall and sank to the floor. Darcy shook Elizabeth's grip from his arm and left the room, leaving Elizabeth to walk limply across to a chair and sink into it. Chris blinked as he heard her start to cry, but he still could not move.
"Are you alright?" It was nearly five minutes later when Elizabeth crossed to stand beside him, then knelt beside him. Chris frowned gravely at her for a moment, then finally engaged his vocal chords, "I think given time I will be fine."
"I think Graf von Nickel has a broken jaw." Elizabeth spoke softly as she helped Chris to his feet and got him into a chair.
"Not surprising, Darcy packs a fair bit of punch in that right of his." Chris rubbed his head, then gingerly set to work getting to his feet.
Ten minutes saw Chris knelt beside Nickel his hands rifling unsteadily through his pockets. Five minutes later saw Chris back in his seat turning over an odd medley of objects. Elizabeth stared at the odd medley of objects. There was a curious carved knife, a signet ring ornately engraved, a revolver, a small phial which Chris sniffed at cautiously and laid aside with a look of extreme distaste, and a small black box which Chris puzzled over for more than a minute.
"I wouldn't touch it." Elizabeth eyed his treatment of the box nervously.
"Why?" Chris laid it carefully aside before he looked up.
"It's some form of explosive." Elizabeth gave a slight shrug.
"How does it detonate?" Chris turned it over cautiously, there were at least ten buttons decorating it and he rather liked living.
"I don't know." Elizabeth had pulled her legs up and was hugging her knees.
"Okay." Chris inspected it for a moment longer, then swept all the objects into one capacious pocket. Silence then fell over the room until Nickel came back into the conscious world, he came with a long groan which made Elizabeth bite her lip.
"How are you?"
"Ich glaube, mein Kiefer ist gebrochen." Nickel announced the matter slowly, awkwardly and with bad ennunciation. I think my jaw is broken.
"Das sieht gebrochen aus." Chris calmly switched into German for Nickel. It looks broken. Chris then turned to Elizabeth and switched back into English. "You better bandage up his jaw Sister Bennet." Elizabeth responded with a nod and a few minutes later Nickel was leaning against the wall with a mound of bandages and two eyes instead of a head.
"Ich glaube, ich kann noch sprechen." Nickel muttered cautiously around the bandaging. I think I can still speak.
"A most impressive job." Chris nodded. "I'll be back in a minute." Chris pulled himself awkwardly out of his chair. "I suspect that someone wishes to speak to you, Miss Elizabeth, and I really need a drink." Chris walked cautiously across to the door and let himself out.
"Unfortunately he is damnably correct." Nickel was starting to get the hang of mumbling past his jaw and finally switched to English.
"Correct?" Elizabeth glanced at him nervously.
"Yes, this is a bad way to leave anything." Nickel paused wearily. "Many might at this point go into extended appologies for what they have done, but I'm afraid that I can't. There are some things I wish I could change, but nothing I wish undone.....except perhaps my abduction of Georgiana Darcy. Many talk about underestimating an opponent, but I think overestimating him is even more dangerous. I underestimated him the first time we met, I overestimated him the second time we met, I underestimated him all the other times we met. I decided to ensure his inaction and plain misread his character." Nickel gave a faint shrug. "We would probably have been friends, but since we couldn't be that we were good enemies. You need to watch your husband Mrs Darcy, he blames himself a lot faster than he blames anyone else."
"Why do you say that?" Elizabeth looked at Nickel sharply.
"Because he hit me." Nickel indicated his jaw with a painful movement. "If he did not blame himself at least in part for what has happened he would just have dropped me. As it was, he blames himself and to express that anger he swung." Nickel paused while he wearily dragged himself across to a chair and sank into it. "Give Darcy my congratulations at some stage, he managed to do what I could not do and I swear I will return to haunt him if he ever upsets you." Nickel paused. "Could I kiss you Elizabeth." Elizabeth mutely shook her head. "Don't you trust me?" Another headshake came in response. "Why?"
"Because you have lied to me." Elizabeth spoke softly.
"When?"
"About South Africa....about just now.." Elizabeth shrugged.
"I didn't lie about South Africa Elizabeth, I just made my remarks by supposition from which you would draw conclusions you would call facts. Yes, it was playing against you, but I had to inconvenience Darcy. As for just now, it could just as easily not been a lie, I lost track of Darcy halfway through the Alps after an accomplice induced an avalanche. I never consciously lie Elizabeth, least of all to people who are important to me."
"I see." Elizabeth rose to her feet and stared sightlessly out the window, how she wished there was someone there to tell her what to do, but there was no one, not even Folin was there to offer advice, this was entirely her own choice. Elizabeth turned away from the window and looked across at where Nickel was blinking sleepily. It was with hesitant steps that Elizabeth crossed to stand beside him, she paused for a minute, then gently kissed him on the forehead. "Goodbye my friend, for you will always be George Wickham of Meryton and he was a friend."
"Goodbye Elizabeth, for you were one of my few true loves." Nickel gave a grave nod, then turned his head. "CHRIS!" It was a clear yell.
"Yes." Chris calmly came into the room.
"Sie haben mich vollstaendig entwaffnet." Nickel responded coolly. You disarmed me completely.
"True." Chris nodded slowly. "Elizabeth, go wait outside." Elizabeth immediately left the room, leaving the two men to face each other. Chris waited until the door closed, and then he crossed the room with deliberate steps and held out the small revolver he had abstracted from Nickel's pockets.
"Warum lassen Sie mich das tun?" Nickel had checked the revolver before he spoke. Why do you let me do this?
"Weil es mindestens drei Menschen gibt, die es mir nicht verzeihen koennten, wenn ich es nicht taete," Chris paused. Because there are at least three people who would not forgive me if I did not. "Moeglicherweise gaebe es sogar einen vierten, aber ich waere mir bei Darcy nicht so sicher."Possibly there would be a fourth, but I could not be certain of Darcy.
"Bei Darcy koennen Sie sich sicher sein, aber wer sind die anderen drei?" You can be certain of Darcy, who are the other three?
"Ich selbst, Ms Elizabeth Darcy und die fruehere Giselle Vernard." Myself, Mrs Elizabeth Darcy, and the former Giselle Vernard.
"Giselle?" Nickel's brows rose sharply. "Sie haben Giselle gefunden?" You found Giselle?
"Das war nicht sehr schwierig, nachdem wir den Namen herausbekommen hatten, denn Paris Ballet führt sorgsam Buch." It was not difficult after we got the name, for Paris Ballet keeps accurate records.
"Ich verstehe." Nickel nodded slowly, awkwardly. I see.
"Sie meinte es gut mit Ihnen, mein Freund." She wished you well my friend.
"Das hat sie." But there was no bitterness in Nickel's tone. She would. "Giselle kannte mich immer verdammt gut."Giselle always knew me a damn sight too well.
"And I'm afraid that I also wish you well, you've lead me on a merry dance for several years and supplied me with immense quantities of interest and information." Chris abruptly dropped back into English before walking back across to the door, he couldn't say why and did not feel at all disposed to consider it.
"Well it seems that in this world I have the best wishes from all those whom I did not wish for them, and nothing from where I wanted wishes. Goodbye." It was a quick and fluid motion and even if Chris had wanted to prevent it he couldn't have. As the echo of the shot began the last of a long, proud line died. Chris stared grimly down at the figure for a moment, then turning, he silently left the room.
Elizabeth shivered as she entered the corridor and ignoring the fact that it would be dangerous she headed off down a nearby passage. The air was frigid, and Elizabeth wanted to move, she wanted to run and shout.....she just wanted to wake up and find it was all a nightmare. It thudded softly into the paneling behind her and Elizabeth dropped to the floor in a panic, and as she dropped she heard a sound which was almost as familiar as life itself to many, it was the sound of a bullet ripping through human flesh. Elizabeth had barely reached the floor when someone else also fell on top of her, one hand took her just between the shoulderblades, very effectively pinning her to the floor, he seemed to have fallen on an angle to her for he was covering her. Elizabeth started to struggle, the form was motionless and she could feel a soaking dampness forming near her shoulder. Elizabeth then stopped as a familiar voice whispered in her ear.
"Keep still." It hissed sharply into her ear and Elizabeth dutifully froze.
"Es sieht aus, als haetten wir sie." The voice was soft and gutteral. Looks like we got them.
"Schau nach, Franz, ich gebe Dir Deckung." You check Franz, I'll cover you.
"Gut." Soft footsteps approached and Elizabeth suddenly saw a large foot beside her head. Right. The hand which lay on her back slammed her hard into the gound, winding her, and he was no longer lying on top of her. There was a muffled scream. "Schiess, schiess, verdammt nochmal, er hat eine Waf..." The words died away in a horrible gurgle and Elizabeth immediately rolled to take cover behind a small hall chest. Fire, fire damn you he has a gu.... Elizabeth risked a peek out, then wished she hadn't. Darcy had the man by the throat and was using him as a living shield, the man he held was not even twitching anymore. Two guns almost immediately spoke after the gurgle and once again came the tearing thud as metal ripped through flesh and Elizabeth felt sick as the body Darcy held convulsed twice. Even before the body Darcy was using as a shield stopped jerking he lifted his hand and fired twice himself, and he was not firing to maim. Elizabeth watched in near horror as the faces of the two men at the turn of the corridor seemed to dissolve and explode outwards, for Darcy had been shooting to kill.
"Are you alright?" Darcy pitched the corpse he was holding away so it lay near the others and came across to Elizabeth. Darcy searched her face intently.
"F-f-fine." Elizabeth's teeth were chattering.
"Good." Darcy cast a quick glance around the corridor. "You better get back to the room, Chris and I actually didn't clean the house out before we entered, that was going to follow."
"Oh." Elizabeth clenched her teeth to fight against the shivers while Darcy hauled her somewhat unceremoniously to her feet.
"Oh, good to see you're alive." Chris was standing at a corner with his revolver in hand, a worried crease easing from his face.
"Very pleasant to feel it. Where's Nickel?" Darcy pushed the revolver into one pocket and pulled his handkerchief out of the other.
"He won't be any more trouble." Chris frowned. "Something the matter?"
"Just a graze." Darcy shoved the handkerchief inside his shirt, then pulled it out, it was soaked with blood.
"Just a graze?" Elizabeth's expression was disbelieving. "They could have blown your arm off and you'd have still called it just a graze."
"Bring it in here." Chris pushed open a nearby door and checked the room before stepping back so Darcy and Elizabeth could enter.
"Right." Darcy promptly started freeing his arm and soon Elizabeth had the arm bound up.
"It'll hold, but you have to get it properly checked as soon as you can." Elizabeth pulled his shirt back up over the shoulder. Darcy gave a brief nod, they both knew perfectly well that it was highly unlikely the deep gash would ever get seen too.
"I suggest we get out of here, I didn't see any but the hearties who interrupted us when I checked out the house." Darcy pulled on his thick leather waistcoat as he spoke.
"I quite agree." Chris offered an arm to Elizabeth and the quickly exited the house.
"Now we just need to get out of here." Chris frowned.
"Nickel left a Diamler in the back." Elizabeth spoke softly. "It should be nearly full."
"Definitely, always travel in comfort if you can." Chris was already heading towards the back of the house.
Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.
Darcy had not the faintest idea as to the name of the place where he descended from the car, but he was more than happy for the large mug of bitter coffee which was handed to him by the General who had a face like an old map, so wrinkled and sunburnt it was.
"What's the news from up north?" Darcy drank back the coffee as quickly as he could without burning his mouth, the bitterness causing his tongue to cleave to the roof of his mouth.
"Well the Hun's certainly planning something, we're expecting him to strike here." The General indicated the Champagne sector of the map.
"Why not here?" Darcy indicated the Somme front, a sector which triangulated away, using the sugar bowl to make his point. "A much faster trip to Amiens."
"Old ground." The General shook his head. "The Boche would never take the ground which everyone knows upside down and back to front. Petain knows he will take Champagne and go for Chalons."
"His reasoning is good, but I don't agree, I think the Hun will take the old route."
"We shall see." They passed a few more minutes discussing general news and what had been happening, before the General was interrupted by the arrival of a telegram. "You have flair my friend." The General shredded up his telegram with a grim expression. "They hit St. Quentin this morning, some minor scuffles and they are only expected to get worse."
An hour later Darcy departed completely satisfied with the information he had been able to get. There was a brief tangle with Station Officials over his lack of pass and uniform, but Darcy managed to catch the Paris train from Dijon. Catching it literally since only Chris' strong arms prevented him from taking an inelegant tumble back onto the tracks. The train was really moving too fast for him to board at that late time.
"That was cutting things just a trifle fine there." Chris spoke a trifle breathlessly as he managed to kick the door open to allow Darcy to haul himself in.
"Much preferable to missing the train." Darcy sank into a nearby chair and blinked his eyes tiredly as he gingerly felt around his shoulder.
"What's the news?" Chris picked up a nearby pack and tossed it to Darcy.
"Hellish." Darcy caught the pack and gave a glance into it. "It seems that Nickel spoke nothing but the truth to Sister Bennet. St. Quentin was hit this morning."
"Well at least it will prevent us from nervously wondering where the attack will actually come from. Where are you going?"
"Heading north as fast as I can." Darcy pulled out the shirt and coat and started changing into his uniform. "I really hate to think what that Frog thought of me."
"Well it certainly isn't you usual appearance." Chris gave a chuckle. "Chuck the rest back into the bag and I'll deal with them later. Your boots are with us in the next carriage."
"Right." Darcy was engrossed with getting his tie done up, but within a few minutes he came padding into the next carriage and dumped his pack on a nearby chair. "You wouldn't have a razor would you Chris?"
"Well I do as a matter of fact." Chris handed over the small case as Darcy dumped the pack. A few minutes later Darcy re-appeared rubbing his chin with rueful fingers, but looking a lot neater than he had before.
"Exit Josef, enter General Darcy." Chris took his razor while Darcy grabbed his boots before sitting down and glancing around the carriage. Uncle Mac and Parker were dozing in one corner, Elizabeth was curled up on one seat, leaning against Elliot March, who was also asleep, and Chris was yawning in an exaggerated manner over some newspaper or other. "Suits you much better." Chris yawned again then pitched the newspaper aside and settled down to sleep. "I'm impressed that you haven't even nicked yourself."
"How kind of you." Darcy glanced at the newspaper Chris had pitched aside then turned his attention to look out at the miserable countryside they were travelling through, not speaking any Polish at all made consideration of the paper a waste of effort.
"General Darcy, sir." The soft voice started Darcy out of his preoccupation and he glanced across to where Elliot was straightening cautiously, trying not to disturb Elizabeth.
"Yes?"
"Could you take over the job as pillow, I have some business to attend to."
"Right." Darcy crossed the carriage and the change of positions was soon effected. It was over an hour later when a movement woke Darcy from his semi-doze, semi-think. Turning his head Darcy saw that Elizabeth was awake, and he immediately withdrew his arm, a move which caused her to look up at him with a faintly puzzled look.
"I see you're awake Miss Elizabeth." Parker was stretching stiffly at the other end of the carriage.
"Yes." Elizabeth pushed up into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes.
"Hungry?"
"No." Elizabeth shook her head before standing up. "I'll be back in a minute." As Elizabeth moved off Chris suddenly sat up.
"Darcy, what do you make of this?" Chris handed across a small black box. Darcy turned it over between his hands, a puzzled frown creasing his brows, then sniffed it cautiously.
"Lentonite I'd say or some form of explosive, probably a mercury fulminate detonator. Unstable." Darcy handed it gingerly back. "Where's you find it?"
"Came out of Nickel's pocket after you knocked him for six, he had his hand on it."
"He did?" Darcy looked stunned and he automatically turned to look at Elizabeth who had stopped by the carriage door. "Then it's probably lentonite." Darcy settled back and stared thoughtfully at his boots until Elizabeth returned and sat down next to him again. "Do you forgive a horrible husband?" Darcy whispered the question softly.
"Nothing to forgive." Elizabeth leant up against him again.
"Hey Chris." Darcy lifted his head again.
"Yes?" Chris untangled himself from another newspaper.
"What happened to Nickel's car?"
"I sent it back into Switzerland, it may come in handy someday."
"Ahh." Darcy's tone was dry as he considered the implications.
"Have you heard anything of the battle?" Elizabeth looked curiously up from her position beside him.
"Yes, got it from the General near Dijon, it's already started around St Quentin." Darcy paused. "I'll see what I can get in Paris, but I suspect the news will be far from good."
"Where are you going?" Elliot pushed himself up awkwardly from where he had been dozing on one of the carriage seats.
"I'm headed north as fast as I can. My division looks set to be in the thick of them."
"Mind if I join you Darcy?" Chris asked the question diffidently enough.
"Nothing I'd like more, at a guess I'd say anything that could move would be welcome."
"Does that include me?" Elliot's expression was slightly mixed.
"No." Darcy shook his head firmly. "Germany still has your parole. Though if you feel really nice you can park yourself in a hospital, they're more than likely to need someone to watch a telephone or something." Conversation was irregular and somewhat despondent as the train slowly lumbered towards Paris. Conversation became argument when they descended from the train at Paris and Darcy bought every single last paper he could lay his hands on. This led to a minor fracas as everyone wanted to read the only one printed in English.
"The taxi driver requests us to please be quiet." Chris gave a grin as he delivered the report from the front seat.
"Well stop hogging all the French papers, Angel, and hand me one." Darcy gave up on getting the English paper.
"Very good my Lord." One of the papers came back and Darcy was soon moaning dismally as he scanned all the available news on the battle.
"That doesn't sound good, why are you howling Darcy?" Chris looked back over the seat.
"Because the newspapers and the civilians seem to think that we're going to paste the Hun." Darcy was dismally reading his way through an enthusiastic report from a military critic, an occurrence which was rare. "I had a nasty feeling since no one had heard anything up the line, and this blasted paper has fulfilled my worst nightmares. Don't bother getting a room for me Chris, I've got to find where my mob are and refresh my commission and get a rail pass." Darcy gave a growl and handed the newspaper across to Elliot before subsiding to glare out the window.
Darcy was certain he was going mad, this was the fourth trip he had made back in the one morning, and he was back now trying to find Mannering. A brief consultation with a G.S.O. and Darcy nipped across the road and caught a nearby ambulance down to the Anglo-American Hospital. Darcy had a brief yelling match with a communications sister, not Darcy's fault the sister was also attempting to manage the arrival of some fresh casualties, the disposal of some men headed off for convalescence leave and trying to work out what was coming down the telephone line.
"Brigadier Mannering?" There was a moment as the Sister took down something from the telephone. "Ward 3."
"Thank you." Darcy promptly charged off, he could get directions to ward three from somewhere else.
"Major!" Mannering's greeting as Darcy came into the ward was about as thankful as any man Darcy had ever heard. "Thank God you're back."
"How's it going Manners?" Darcy cautiously seated himself on the foot of the bed.
"Could be better. I'm glad you're back, Major, Miles is good but.....well....." Mannering shook his head, quite unable to form what he was trying to say.
"I quite understand Manners." Darcy gave a chuckle. "What's it like out there?"
"Hell." Mannering's response was brief but descriptive. "Hazy got nabbed, then the sod shot me."
"Hazy's been nabbed?"
"Heard it just as they cleared me out, if he's not out cold he's going to give them trouble I'll bet."
"So who's doing what?" Darcy frantically tried to remember who might be where.
"Well Miles has the division, and the last I heard he was praying for anyone to turn up....provided they had a higher rank....though he was also willing to accept anyone who could hold a rifle."
"That bad is it?" Darcy looked startled, for Miles to be that willing it meant things must be frightful.
"Down about quarter of the Lieutenants, fair number of the Captains. We've been pulling N.C.O.'s like rabbits out of a hat....Carrie's up acting as Brigadier...." Mannering's voice trailed off thinly and Darcy started to rise. "Please Major, you've got to get back."
"I'm on my way Manners."
"You've.....you've got to get back, Major." Mannering's voice had trailed off into a thin thread.
"I'm going Manners, now you forget about everything and concentrate on getting well." Darcy gave a wave of his hand as he exited the room, and was thankful to see Mannering sink back into his bed. It was with a dark frown that Darcy headed back to the front of the hospital.
"David!" The hand caught his shoulder as he was descending the stairs and Darcy didn't require any answer to who it was, there was only one person who had that ring. Darcy spun around and caught Elizabeth into a crushing hug. "Hey I like breathing." The protest came when Darcy finally released her.
"Garbage, breathing isn't at all the thing nowadays." Darcy finally loosened his hold on Elizabeth and stepped back and looked gravely up at her. "What brings you here?"
"They need help David, this place if totally packed, they need every trained hand they can get.....and I'm certainly trained, and I'm certainly not assigned elsewhere. I saw you come in here so I thought I'd wait."
"Thank you, darling....but please......Look after yourself." This game was not yet finished and Darcy couldn't shake the dreaded memory that one of them had yet to die, and it was the best of them.
"I'll be alright David." Elizabeth gave him a hug. "You need to watch out for yourself."
"No real need, my hide's too mean. Such a ruddy coward. I love you darling." Darcy gave her a quick hug and then promptly released her and fled for he knew it was now or never. He had to leave now or he never would.
Elizabeth watched his departure in silence, and then turned and re-entered the hospital. Things were not yet right, and now was certainly not the time to attempt settling.
"Something the matter Sister?" A harried doctor came flying out of a nearby room.
"No doctor, just a family discrepancy."
"Not bad I hope?" The Doctor came to a halt and frowned at Elizabeth.
"Shouldn't be, he's just be feeling a bit guilty because of a minor miscommunication." Elizabeth couldn't help but grimace at the understatement.
"Not good." The Doctor pulled a face. "You'll have a tricky problem.....in fact I suspect that you'll just have to weather the storm and wait for him to come round."
"Time isn't actually what there is to spare." Elizabeth gave a faint smile. "Thankyou Doctor, but I am delaying you." Elizabeth headed off down the corridor leaving the Doctor to frown in perplexity after her.
"Something wrong Doctor?" It was the Head Sister who stopped beside him.
"No, I just met one of the most amazing women I've ever met."
"Who?" The Head Sister blinked, trying to think of who might be meant.
"Sister here, married, dark hair, intelligent face, lovely face......and no I'm not in love with her, but she is striking."
"Married?"
"Queer ring, I'd say she was married out here."
"Well it must have been Sister Bennet for I don't know off any other Sisters who answer those categories."
"Sister Bennet?"
"Sister Elizabeth Bennet, came out from England just over a year ago, she has quite a reputation."
"So THAT's Sister Bennet." The Doctor turned and looked over his shoulder.
"Why'd you speak to her?"
"She looked worried, seems to have had a problem with her husband."
"Not surprising." The Head Sister gave a laugh.
"Who is he?" The Doctor looked curious. "I've not heard of a Bennet anywhere out here."
"He's not a Bennet, I suspect it was paperwork which prevented the changing of her name. Though you've probably not heard of the husband either, General Darcy is one of those interesting individuals who do an awful lot and yet still remain anonymous."
"General Darcy, as in a Darcy of Derbyshire? Good heavens, no wonder she's an amazing woman.....she'd have to be, being married to him."
"You saying he's a hard man?" The Head Sister's eyebrow rose slowly.
"No....well yes and no. I met the younger brother in India, queer name, he had an uncanny ability to make everyone agree with him, no matter how insane the idea was. Only one person he ever treated with anything remotely near respect.....and that was his elder brother. I've been thankful up 'til now that I've never met the man, though now it looks like I might well meet him."
"Poor you. You're off shift Doctor, get to bed."
"Darcy!" A desperate hand grabbed Darcy's shoulder.
"What...! MILES!" Darcy grabbed the hand from his shoulder and shook it firmly. "What in hell's happening? I've been combing the trenches for you for this hour past!"
"Hell is precisely what's happening." Miles paused to give some brief instructions to a Captain. "Now let's get moving, I'll give you an idea of this position as soon as we get back."
"Who's where?" Darcy had had his eyes open during his entire search and it hadn't taken him long to realise that the position was precisely that, HELL!
"Well Hazy got back ten minutes ago, which meant Hacky returned to being a Battalion Officer again. With you again means Carrie will be satisfied and can drop back to Regimental Officer." Miles smothered a yawn. "Damn glad you're back, I was not meant to be a Divisional Commander."
"Any idea on the position of the Hun?" Darcy had taken a risky look over the top.
"Well Hazy said it doesn't make any difference what we're told, seems they're pushing in divisions here faster than we're losing men."
"Which is could be good or REALLY, REALLY bad." Darcy didn't actually need to be told which it was, he had been behind the lines and he had seen the Hospitals.
"It's really, really, REALLY bad." Miles gave a sigh and finally lead the way into a damp and drafty little shed, reminiscent of many scattered around France. "Hallen's old mob were out here." Miles indicated a section of the front and soon technicalities were flying in the cramped room as Darcy raced to get up to date with the position before the next assault wave came.
"'Scuse me." The far from cultured tones came dimly to the two men who were still pouring over the maps and arguing positions.
"Sir." The orderly came into the room and Darcy looked up in exasperation from the maps.
"What?"
"There's a Captain to see you Sir."
"A Captain?" Darcy blinked furiously trying to clear his mind.
"Hiya Darcy, just came to see if you had some cranny you could wedge me in for a few hours." Chris poked his head into the hut.
"Oh, you Chris. Right-ho, pinch a seat I'll be with you in a minute.....and pinch one outside please." Darcy banged the door shut behind both Chris and the orderly and with a grin Chris settled down on a woodblock and let himself doze off partially.
"You wanted to see me Chris?" It was six when Darcy emerged from the hut, Chris had watched Miles clear off nearly an hour earlier.
"Well yes and no." Chris hauled to his feet and gave a yawn, the dawn cannonade was already under way. "I'm looking for something to do until the 27th of March."
"Why that date?"
"That's when I return to my poor wayward boys."
"How fortunate for them." Darcy gave a yawn. "Right, you can become another of my runner's.....and you can start by finding where in Hell Peter has got to."
"He's over near the Poll."
"Glory be, go fetch him back and then heigh across and find out what Mitchison is up to."
"Right." Chris slid away leaving Darcy to face the hell he knew was to come.
Darcy peered worriedly up at the sky as he moved through the sodden trenches. Dawn was only just touching the sky and the earth below was still sunk in darkness. He hadn't been back to his Divisional H.Q. since the morning of the 22nd, and neither had he had any sleep since then.
"Oi!" Peter came bundling over the top of the trench at the back with the accompaniment of some machine-gun fire.
"Watchit laddie." Darcy firmly returned Peter to his feet. "What's up?"
"Colonel Bent is dead sir, Captain Foose is heading back with a broken leg, three lieutenants are also casualties and 30 other general casualties."
"All with Bent?"
"Aye, the dirty 'Un dropped a shell on top of his trench."
"Right. Get through to Carrie, he'll have to go up again. CHRIS! Get through to Miles see if he can spare a couple of privates for the day."
"Right." Chris vanished over the top as Peter shot off down the trench. Ten minutes later and once more Darcy was shifting quickly through the trenches trailing just the single runner.
"HI! Watchout!" The voice was somewhat foggy and Darcy was dimly aware that a shell had exploded nearby, his ears were ringing loudly. Darcy dove into a nearby fire trench and shoved foreword to where a couple of corporals and a private were trying to dig in under the edge of the fire trench.
"What goes on here?"
"Sorry sir." The Corporal yanked nervously upright.
"What happened?"
"Picket took a direct hit sir."
"This isn't the picket."
"No sir, sorry sir but we heard it coming and ran like hell."
"Wise idea, now hop it back out there. Do what ever you like but keep an eye on where they are and DON'T get killed."
"Yessir." The corporal turned to hustle back with the other corporal and the private to the picket position, which was now just a big shell crater. Darcy turned and returned to the main trenchline where he promptly ran into Carrigan.
"Hullo, Carrie." Darcy caught a runner who just came dashing up. "What's up?"
"They've got another trench system ready for us."
"Good, tell 'em we'll come back to fill it. Any reserves?"
"No sir."
"Well tell 'em their trenches are no bloody good unless they get some men into them. We're dead on our feet here."
"Yessir." The runner shot off.
"What's up Carrie?"
"The 11th and 12th need to be joined sir, there aren't enough men for two regiments and there certainly aren't enough officers."
"As long as you cover the ground I really don't give a damn what you do. But cover your ground and make sure the Germans don't get through."
"Right......Miles is asking whether he can take on another runner."
"Tell him he can have all the bloody runners he likes. Are we out of signal wire?"
"Yes.......except for a few bits about an inch long."
"Breaks are usually a foot long." Darcy paused. "PETER! Get back to the HQ and grab anyone who is there. The whole lot of them just became runners."
"Even the dustman?"
"Even the dustman." Darcy hustled off again as Peter shot away.
"I don't think they like us sir." Carrigan made the observation as yet another gas shell came flying overhead.
"One gets that feeling. Now get that bloody mask on and get moving back to your men."
"Yessir." Carrigan ducked off, yanking on the nose clip of his mask, he couldn't be bothered with the helmet today, it made hearing too difficult.
Peace is an unusual commodity. It always appears in the most unexpected places.
It was a cold, damp morning and it was with an unwilling shiver that Darcy kicked his overcoat aside and took a quick look over the parapet. Predictably he could see nothing, but Darcy wasn't going to stop looking over the parapet until there was no longer a parapet to look over. It was probably the first morning he had not woken up to the cheerful melody of bombs and shells exploding.
"Up." Darcy stirred Peter with an unceremonious foot, before using an even more unceremonious foot to wake up Chris.
"It gets tiring to always be disturbed by a foot in the ribs." Chris rubbed his ribs briefly then waved away the can of bully beef Darcy offered him. "Keep it for later.....either that or give it to Peter."
"You haven't eaten in five days."
"You call that garbage food?" Chris' expression was speaking.
"Picky." Darcy returned the can to his pack and then risked another quick look over the parapet.
"Looks like rain." Chris eyed the sky morosely.
"It won't." Peter spoke with confidence. "It'll be nearly clear by six and it will be only odd patches by eight."
"Yeah right munchkin." Chris looked once more up at the damp sky before taking a hasty drink.
"Unfortunately he's right." Darcy spoke gloomily and his brow quickly darkened as he flipped through his pile of new information which had just arrived by runner.
"What's up?" Chris glanced up curiously from where he had been fiddling with his boots.
"You don't want to know." Darcy rammed the papers into his pocket as he started to move off. "I'm going back. Peter, get that through to Carrie. Chris, tell Miles we're delaying." Darcy shifted off as he spoke, leaving Peter and Chris to exchange grimaces before they too took
off. Darcy threaded quickly through the trenches, pausing once or twice to speak to the men, but soon he was out of it and back near the artillery.
"'Morning sir." It was a sluggish, gurgle of a greeting and the salute was even more shameful but Darcy merely grinned.
"Busy night?"
"Very. Gettin' off in a minit."
"Good luck." Darcy swung behind the massive guns and the Archie Guns before swearing and rolling his eyes. "Hullo Mac."
"Sir." If anything Mac's salute was even worse.
"When did you last sleep?" Darcy glanced doubtfully at Mac's chin, that was not morning shadow, that was several day's of growth.
"Dunno, this week, last week.....more recently than you anyway. I hope the Archie are helpful."
"You given us more Archie?"
"We thought it might be useful."
"It will be." Darcy nodded grimly and then glanced up at the sky. The sun was rising, and the cloud was clearly beginning to lift.
"Reserves?"
"Meant to come in last night but they were delayed, meant to come this morning, once again delayed."
"Latest?"
"No latest." Darcy grunted sourly.
"Liar.....yeah I know, I shouldn't have asked." Mac gave a short laugh before rubbing bloodshot eyes.
"Correct. Anyone else back here?"
"Not that I......." Mac abruptly broke off and whipped out a pair of binoculars which he pointed skywards.
"What?" Darcy looked up but couldn't find a thing.
"One......two, three, four.......nope five.......hell nearly a Squadron....maybe there is a sixth."
"WHAT?"
"You really are going to hate me.....Huns, five or six Albatrosses.....and they're headed right this way."
"Where?"
"1 O'clock, at the base of the clouds."
"Damn!" Darcy had his telescope on them in a flash. "Mac if a single one of those gets back we're sunk."
"I'd say you have a problem, 'scuse me while I make a call....the Archie never hit a 'plane." Mac's tone was slightly derisive as he vanished into the squat little building which served as the communications centre for the Battery. Darcy didn't even grunt as he continued to watch the wedge-like formation. Already the Archie had opened up.
"'Ullo mate......ooops, sorry sir." The private saluted hastily, a salute that didn't even pass his ears.
"Where are you from?"
"I don' actually know mate....sorry....sir."
"Uh-huh." Darcy finally dropped his telescope and attached two firm fingers to a nearby ear. "You bugger off.....and SLEEP it off."
"Yessir." The private saluted and then promptly fell over, he did not regain his feet and soon loud snores disturbed the peace.
"Damn." Darcy rolled his eyes and moved away, his telescope returning to the wedge. "Who'd you call?" Darcy didn't bother to look at Mac as that worthy returned. "Please tell me it was your C.O.."
"Sorry, weren't my C.O."
"Who was it then?" Darcy glumly made a mental acknowledgement that Mac was correct, the Archie hadn't come within a mile of that wedge.
"How'd you like it if I said....Monique?" Mac grinned slightly and then abruptly lost it and retreated several steps.
"Very wise." Darcy looked away from the 'planes for less than a second, the 'planes had nearly reached the lines. "I'm not in the humour for joking Mac. Who did you call?"
"Ashie....well Colonel Thomlin actually but the difference is the same....Try lightening up Major."
"Mac are you sane at all?" Darcy looked sharply at Mac, for the moment he had completely forgotten about the flight in the air.
"I think so....why do you ask?"
"You are asking me to lighten up......Mac I have over 5000 men sitting out there precisely where those bloody ________ will be firing if a single one of those.....'planes gets home!" Darcy restrained himself visibly. "Now if you'll excuse me but I am not going to be cheerful and the general merry soul."
"Umm, would sorry fix it?"
"No." Darcy responded bluntly. "The only half decent thing which might come remotely near fixing my day is if Ashie gets his......" Darcy restrained himself again. "and gets somewhere on time.....preferably even early."
"Well that's that." Denny rubbed a weary head and sank down onto one heel, only to look up in puzzlement because Thomlin had binoculars out and was focussing on something very sharply up.
"Damn." Thomlin slowly lowered the binoculars and rubbed his chin.
"Hell, don't tell me Ashie's rudder's coming off already?" Denny moaned. "We spend the entire bloody night up to get that wreck working and he rips the tail off on takeoff."
"No, Ashie's fine. As are the rest of them. GEORDIE! Get the Gladas out NOW!" Thomlin was running for the barracks as he called.
"What the.....?" Denny shook his head and then abruptly grabbed the discarded binoculars. What he saw brought a grim frown to his face and he turned and hastened after Thomlin.
"Get this on." Thomlin shoved a bulky parcel into Denny's arms.
"What the hell is it?"
"Present from the Hun. Now get moving." Thomlin was pushing past as he spoke.
"Why?"
"I need a gunner."
"Oh." Denny paused, eyed the item in disgust. "What's this meant to do? Make me a better target?"
"Yes." Thomlin yanked on his helmet and gloves as he spoke.
"Thanks." Denny rolled his eyes. "What do I do with this thing?" Somewhere he had acquired his jacket, goggles, gauntlets and helmet, but Denny had no idea when or how.
"This way." Thomlin turned back from prepping the Gladas as he spoke and he was far from gently as he pulled it on for Denny. "Now get in."
"Yes sir."
"They're turning." Darcy's tone was resigned, now he had the great joy of knowing that only a miracle would not kill them all before nightfall. "I got to get mov...." Darcy abruptly stopped, his remark drowned out by a holler from Mac.
"HERE THEY COME!!"
"Uh-huh." Darcy raked the sky for a moment and then returned his attention to the wedge of 'planes. Only to jerk his attention back up as the clouds over head were shredded by an entire Squadron.
"What the Hell....!" Mac's mouth was gaping. "They must have got the new recruits in at last!"
"What do you mean?" Darcy glanced first at the 'planes and then at Mac.
"The Cads only had four pilots the last I heard."
"Got new ones in a fortnight ago."
"Ashie's going to be mad as hell about this." Mac gave a sigh and got his glasses up just in time to see the first of the Hun tumble out of the sky, clearly the pilot was dead. "Score one for Ashie?"
"How do you know?" Darcy had his telescope up but frankly he couldn't tell which 'planes he was meant to approve of.
"Because only Ashie can manage that hunk of junk of his.....and only Ashie would spiral curve like that when he's got a tacked on tail.....Man's utterly insane......but he does know how to fly."
"Okay who's left?"
"2 Cads are down but they've nailed three....damn! There go two more....and another Hun. 4 Cads, 4 Huns, they're currently even."
"Who's up there?"
"5 unknowns to the Cads, three knowns......oh damn that's trouble......who's going after him?"
"What is trouble?"
"That Flamer at 10 O'clock to the fight. Pilot's still alive and still in control, unless someone does something.....someone did." As Mac spoke Darcy saw the trail of smoke steepen and dive, it plunged into the bog just short of the river.
"Our side."
"Good.....what's the official line?"
"The river."
"Good-oh......nice one Ashie."
"What did he do?"
"Just rescued his own......oh that's going to make Ashie wild."
"What, that collision?" The two planes were sinking gently earthward, locked in a deadly embrace.
"Correct.....they were both Cads....however Florrie and Pyro are still up there....okay, that's five." Mac started to put away his binoculars only to lift them up again and curse.
"What is it?" Darcy was scanning the sky, but he could only see the five Cads driving for height.
"Look above them......perhaps a thousand feet......damn I don't like the look of that."
"What?"
"Kreuger......got to be to be flying that........oh hell." Mac watched with a sick feeling in his stomach. There was no way the Cads were going to get height quickly enough, and Kreuger was not prone to the arrogance of some of the German Pilots. There would be no chance of him trying to rub it into the Cads that he was faster and stronger.
"Kreuger.....why does that name ring a bell?" Darcy looked at the sleek fighting machine as it left the Cads trailing in its invisible wake.
"He's the only fighter pilot you hear much about this side of the lines with perhaps the exception of Richtoffen.....not such a high kill rate by a long shot, but he's not a pilot to play games with. It's courtesy of Kreuger that Ashie's tail is only lightly tacked onto his mainframe.....he's probably cursing he didn't...." Mac abruptly stopped speaking,
"What is it?" Darcy looked up from pocketing his telescope and frowned. Mac was staring up into the sky as if it had just developed a whole new meaning.
"It's the Gladas......It's the Shark Gladas." Mac spoke like he was in a dream. "My God is that a 'plane to fly.....But it is the Shark."
"What?" Darcy abruptly lifted his telescope and took another look at the sky, and he soon found what he was looking for. There were still the five Cads scrambling for height, though now there was a desperation to it and two of them had drawn slightly ahead. The German 'plane, Kreuger, was still a good five hundred feet above and very nearly at the lines, another five hundred feet above him there was another 'plane. Silver, the 'plane had no identification markings and was rakish and streamline in build. The aeroplane heeled up and over into a textbook arc and then dived, and as it arced over a small object hurtled out of it soon to blossom into a large expanse of white material. But Darcy's attention was fixed on the diving 'plane and he was sparing nearly an ear for Mac's half hysterical gibber, it made no sense at all.
"It's.......it's old.......he's not going to retire......Oh my God the man's a fool, a bloody, brilliant, insane fool.....it's....." Mac fell silent, too pent up with what he wanted to say.
"Who is it?" Darcy followed the silver speck as he asked the question.
"It's.....Old Icey." The silver dart bisected the only slightly less clean cut German 'plane. Bits and pieces flew far and wide and a few seconds later the sickening, crunching crash reached their ears. Mac had slumped onto his knees, but his binoculars still followed the course of the entangled 'planes as they tumbled through the sky.
Just before impact Darcy turned his head aside. Kreuger had attempted no evasive action, maybe it was because he never even knew what was coming. Maybe it was just the truth that he was a fatalist and believed that death would come one day and there was nothing he could do about it.
Mac's binoculars hung around his neck from their string, his face was buried in his hands, and his frame was wracked by repeated tremours.
"The river." Darcy spoke softly to himself.
"What's that?" Mac looked up slightly puzzled.
"Today we'll take the river, this evening the reserve may take over.....if they get here before then......get back to base Mac, you need sleep."
"Yeah....whatever." Mac glanced up at the sky and then rubbed his eyes in irritation, there were now only four Cads in the air and they were headed straight across the lines. The fifth was drifting in a sick manner towards the ground. "May God have mercy of their souls."
"I don't think the Cads have souls." Darcy responded bluntly. "Any soul they did have has been long since pounded out of them."
"I was praying for any German they meet, Ashie's out for blood and I'm betting he's out for a lot of it."
"Well he'll have extra fun this evening."
"Very good sir." Mac nodded, an agreement which clearly showed that he hadn't heard a word as he watched the four fighters vanish into the clouds.
They had taken the river for a grand total of ten minutes that afternoon. But ten minutes was all the time that was needed, and when the Germans pushed them back they found the river free of debris and Oberleutenant Kreuger laid out on a protected bit of the bank. Darcy had spent a moment speaking to the two stretcher-bearers who had been pulled in. Darcy then glanced briefly at the man who lay on the stretcher.
Colonel Thomlin was as impressive in death as he had been in life. But death had erased many of the lines, and the water had darkened the nearly silver head of hair to a light brown. There was a peace to Colonel Thomlin's features which Darcy had little recollection of ever having seen in any face. It was the face of a content man, a man who considered his job finished, and well finished.
"Sir." The breathless voice interrupted Darcy's study of the face and he turned to see a limping pilot approach.
"Lieutenant Denny."
"Oh good, I had hoped you'd pick him up." Denny sighed and sank onto a nearby ledge of dirt.
"Go back with him Lieutenant......and send someone to pick up the 'plane when ever, we shoved it out behind our lines and it should be safe for an hour or two."
"Good. Yeah I'd better get moving, They'll be back within an hour.....if they return at all."
"You think they won't?" Darcy shot Denny a sharp look.
"Yes, they will return.....but all of them with perhaps an exception made of one of them will be wishing they didn't have to."
"I'll see you if we live to get back." Darcy flinched as some shell landed nearby and then hastily waved the dismal stretcher party away. Peace. Darcy hoped he might one day know peace like that.
Darcy cursed mutely into his gas mask as he struggled awkwardly to his feet, that had been the eighth shell in a damn sight fewer minutes.
"You alright sir?" The private who helped him to his feet looked like he had passed his century a millenium ago. The Private's face was paper grey with exhaustion, deep dark circles rimmed his eyes and the wrinkles of worry which everyone had were canyons in this face. Darcy had a feeling that if he had time to glance in a mirror his face was probably worse.
"Fine." Darcy rubbed his face. "Fine thanks. You know where the picket it?"
"No sir, but they're tucked in a shell hole somewhere out there."
"Right." Darcy shot a quick glance over the top and other than seeing grey mud pitted like the moon there was essentially nothing to be seen, except for a couple of shells arcing lazily in.
"Sir, I do wish you wouldn't do that." The Private spoke as Darcy hastily ducked back down to avoid the sharp chatter of machine-gun fire.
"Looks need to be taken." Darcy moved off as he spoke, only to stop and turn back. "Who are you?"
"Private Charles Heston, sir."
"Thanks." Darcy moved off again. Ten minutes later he was speaking briefly to Major 'Dog' Dalgleish, who was currently an acting Regimental Officer.
"What the...." Darcy frowned as a dud shell landed on the trench wall behind them. "Mitchinson's aim is wild."
"No it's not." Dog had balanced the shell gently on his hand for a moment before hurling it away into No-Man's Land. "That was a German shell."
"What in Bloody Hell?" Darcy scratched his head. "Mitchinson must have lost the better part of half a mile in this past hour."
"It's been fierce over that way."
"You got a runner?"
"Not here sir."
"Where's Miles?"
"Bit further across."
"Right. If Mitchinson doesn't retake that ground soon we've got no chance in hell of remaining here." Darcy snarled the remark to himself as he hurried off down the trench, Peter should be with Miles still.
"What's up sir?" Miles emerged from a nearby fire trench just as Darcy was once more asking a Private where Miles was.
"I need a runner."
"Peter's just behind me.....why?"
"Mitchinson's lost half a mile and we'll have to fall back again if he doesn't retake it soon."
"We've got no where to go if we lose this have we?" Miles asked the question somewhat hesitantly.
"Correct." Darcy responded very shortly indeed. "Hence Mitchinson is going to retake that ground."
"I'll go by the river." Peter was already moving when Darcy caught his arm.
"No you don't Peter, too dangerous."
"It takes over half an hour by road and everyone in this place is a volunteer. You're not asking or telling me to do it, I'm volunteering sir. If I cross the river I can get to Mitchinson in less than ten minutes. Send Miles to watch me sir if you like. If the M-G gets me than Miles can allot someone else to go by road, but we have to try sir."
"Alright." Darcy gave a brief nod and sighed heavily. "Watch him Miles."
"Will do sir." Miles shot off after Peter as Darcy turned and slowly moved off in search of Carrigan. How ironic, he was about to have a Captain as an acting Brigade Officer.
"Sir!" It was a desperate and pale faced Private who came belting up and skidded to a desperate halt in the bad evening light.
"Is Mitchinson back in place?" Darcy recognised one of Miles' runners in the desperate, pale faced boy.
"Yes sir."
"Good. What's up?" Darcy turned away in irritation as a stretcher-bearer came bundling up lead by yet another Private.
"You're needed back at your Divisional H.Q. sir."
"Why?"
"It's your runner sir, Peter."
"What the hell's wrong with him?" Darcy growled in irritation as he abruptly sent yet another runner racing off into the gloom as he tried to find out what officers he had left and where they were to be found.
"Rather a lot sir, he was in the river when a bomb hit it."
"Will he live?" Darcy jerked back abruptly focussing on the stretcher bearer.
"Uhhh, we think so sir, but we're not certain. He seemed fine for a bit and then he abruptly passed out."
"Damn the boy. Okay I'm on my way....Hoy!" Darcy grabbed Miles' runner. "Where's the Brigadier?"
"I don't know sir, that's what we're trying to find out." The runner looked almost sick.
"Hey!" Darcy grabbed the stretcher-bearer who was starting to leave. "What do you know of Brigadier Holloway?"
"They weren't going to take him back sir. It was thought you'd want to see your runner before he was carted back, seemed to think he had something important to say."
"Right....what's with Holloway?"
"He won't live sir, probably dead already. They filled him to the eyeballs with morphia when he came in and have just left him."
"WHAT HAPPENED?!"
"He was between Private James and the shell sir. Private James paused long enough to get him out of the river and into the hands of a stretcher party before running on."
"Thank you. Billy! Get back to Carrie, tell him to get his rear over to HQ. Hal, get moving to Charles and tell him that Hazy's taken over the Division until I return."
"Yessir." Billy and Hal shot off down the trench as Darcy sent off his last remaining runner to tell Brigadier Hazlitt he had the Division for a bit.
"DAMMIT! I DON'T CARE! NO RUNNER OF MINE IS DYING IN A BLOODY BED!" The irate roar from nearby drew a faint and drawn grin to Miles' pale, bloodless face.
"I take it the Major is back."
"Naah! I think that was just the wind in the trees." Carrigan was still rubbing his ears as he responded.
"Calling that loud Carrie?"
"My ears are sensitive."
"I'll bet they are......'Ullo Major. Carrie I'll see you when the old Mountain has expressed his displeasure at finding me in bed."
"You'd better." Carrigan growled softly as he retreated from the cramped building.
"How's it going Miles?" Darcy cautiously lowered himself onto the foot of the bed.
"Not bad all things considered." Miles shifted his head cautiously.
"Glad to hear it......you were daft falling into the river like that."
"Peter was caught on some underwater debris." Miles gave a shrug. "Must excuse me for not saluting sir, but I don't seem able to move my hands."
"I guess I'll manage to survive if you don't." Darcy gave a wide yawn. "Miss Beth is going to be awful sorry when she hears about this."
"I hope she's not the only one.......but somehow I doubt my Uncle will have changed."
"You're a damn good Officer Miles and I'm damn sorry this has happened." Darcy rubbed his nose and yawned again.
"It's peculiar, I was preaching peace when we came out here three years ago.....I'm still preaching peace, and I still believe it. Do you think there'll ever be peace Major?" Miles' voice was laboured and slurring words slightly.
"I don't know Miles." Darcy dropped his head slowly. "But there's got to be peace someday because there is only so much we can take."
"Do you think we'll have another war?"
"No other possibility. It will probably come from Germany. It will probably be done by some boy whose father has died during this one....or possibly was in this one."
"What's your opinion of the Yanks?"
"They're here for the wrong reasons. They're fighting for the wrong reasons. They'll make a peace which suits them alone, and it will be a peace for the wrong reasons. Germany is a proud country and it won't take having it's nose rubbed in the mud. There will be another war. We'll win this other war. We'll win this other war and we'll be allied with France and America again. At first it will just be us and France against Germany.....then the Americans will find their trade too threatened, the Americans will find their sense of justice upset, the Americans will see some American innocents killed. Then the Americans will come into the war. Then the Americans will come as they did this time, an independent force coming to enlighten us barbaric Europeans as to the true light of Democracy and human rights. They will come put to rights the mess we stupid Europeans made of our world. The Americans will chide us gently and set us on the right tracks. The Americans will finally do what they have been doing for a while now, they will become the Superpower of this world. Until either America refrains from interfering in our wars, or Germany is utterly destroyed as a country, we will continue to have war here. The Americans are not European and correspondingly they can't solve European problems."
"Where as the British Foreign Office can solve Arabian problems."
"Don't cheek me Miles, you're still a subordinate officer. I have never, at any point in time that I recall, expressed approval of our method of Foreign Affairs."
"True." Miles gave a faint and rueful smile.
"You want some rest before I let Carrie back in?" Darcy rose as he spoke.
"No thanks Major. Thanks for seeing me. Thanks for being my Commanding Officer. Thanks....I guess it's just thanks for everything." Miles' voice was getting somewhat thready.
"Don't be daft." Darcy spoke shortly. "Sure you don't want some spare time Miles?"
"No thanks Major." Miles' eyes had slid slightly out of focus. "I don't know what's wrong with me Major, but this time my rail pass is a one way trip. I'm damn sorry I won't be coming back because I'll miss you all. I hate war Major, but I don't mind the Military. Give my love to Uncle Harvey if you ever see him, for all the bad-mouthing I've given him over the years he's not a bad old coot.....he thought he was doing what was best for me. Send Carrie in Major, got to speak to him before my train boards."
"So long Miles, we'll meet again."
"We'd better, you still owe me a round of chess."
"That I do." Darcy gave a soft laugh before making his way out of the building. "Carrie!" It took a call and a head jerk and Darcy was once more alone. The day had been miserable, but the evening was beautiful. Darcy eyed the sunset with extreme dislike, the sunset was beautiful and behind him his best officer was dying.
"I've always thought of Sunsets as the world's way of saying farewell." It was a Nursing Sister who spoke, she was a tired looking woman and Darcy was willing to guess she was well passed thirty.
"Why's that?"
"Because whenever the best go we have a particularly beautiful sunset. I've always hoped that I'll be remembered by a sunset."
"You needn't fear Sister because you always will." Darcy turned slowly away as he spoke.
"Why's that? I'm not dead."
"One needn't be dead to be remembered. The living can be remembered just as well as the dead can be remembered. For the rest of my life I'm going to remember a beautiful sunset and a Nursing Sister who managed with one sentence to turn hatred into love. A minute ago I hated that sunset, I felt such beauty should be impossible in such a situation. You pointed out that without some beauty amidst pain and suffering the whole of humanity would have died out many years ago. As it is, that, is what we are fighting for. The ability to look at that sunset and say 'we did our best'. Even God can ask for no more than that....and certainly I cannot. Sleep well if you get any Sister." Darcy walked slowly back towards the trenches. Had any man asked him how he felt he would have responded 'I have done my best.' The sunset was a brilliant display of light, gold tinged everything and the sky looked like molten metal as the sun slowly sank below the horizon.