Chapter 1: Pick a Man

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Tom Blake's POV.

“Blake..”
I hear my name somewhere in the distance of my mind.

“Blake” I hear it again, it's harsh and loud, accompanied by a kick in the ribs.

I jolted awake, lifting my head off of the ground, which was made soft by all the weeds and wildflowers. I take my helmet off of my face, squinting as my eyes adjust to the light.

Blocking most of it is the sergeant, standing there glaring at me. “Sorry sarge…” I say, rubbing my eyes.

He doesn't respond, instead he looks me up and down and says: “Pick a man. Bring your kit.” “Yes, sarge” I say automatically.

I sit up, still trying to fully wake up. I sigh and put my helmet back on.

Pick a man, huh? My eyes immediately glance over to the older man sleeping against the tree as if instinct.

William Schofield, a Lance Corporal just like me, though he's been in the army for longer. Scho and I have been close for a while now.

I gulp as I take in his frame. I feel a bit guilty for picking him. He looks so peaceful. He has strong pointed features with tired eyes, no matter how much he sleeps. His face is framed by light brown hair.

I cut myself off before I go mad.

Pushing myself off the ground and onto my feet, I hold my hand out in front of Schofield.

Will’s eyes open slightly, and he stares at my hand, silently sizing it up. He cranes his neck, his blue eyes staring up at me, eyebrows gently raised.

The sight almost takes my breath away.

Will sighs before reaching out his hand to grab mine. I flush at the contact but quickly start pulling him up. He stands with a groan. My free hand gently steadies him as it ghosts over his shoulder for longer than it needed to.

I pull away once he's up. I turn around to grab my rifle and hide my red face.

“Don't dawdle'' I hear the sergeant yell.

“No sarge” I respond, sighing as I begin to walk ahead with Will trailing behind.

He jogs to catch up to me as he secures his helmet to his head. We begin to walk through the camp.

“Did they feed us?” I ask as I feel my stomach pang with hunger.

“No, just mail,” Schofields smooth voice responds. He starts digging through his pocket and hands me a letter.

I unfold it while walking, my eyes graze over the page and I smile once I'm done reading.

“Myrtle’s having puppies…” I say gently, bumping shoulders with him.

Will doesn't respond, but he looks up at me for a split second with a small smile on his lips.

“You get anything..?” I say as I place the letter into my pocket, ignoring the way his smile makes my heart jump.

“No” he says he sounds unaffected.

“I'm bloody starving, aren't you?” I say, changing the conversation to a lighter subject. Will doesn't respond, but I don't really give him time to.

“Thought we might get some decent grub out here…only reason I decided against the priest hood..” Schofield chuckles softly.

He pulls something wrapped in cloth out from one of his bags and unwraps it.

“What ya got there?” I ask curiously, peering over his shoulder.

“Ham and bread” Will says, popping a piece in his mouth.

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