Letters to the front

Chapter 25 - Vodka, neat

Edward 

***********

 I read over Alice's latest letter and smiled at some of the things she said, frowned at others. She told me of her loss, and how my letter had 'saved' her (i was finding this very difficult to believe) and now that she was happy at home, enjoying a restful summer before returning to France. 

I personally did not want her returning, i wanted her safe in England, but she was stubborn and would never listen to me. 

I wandered out into the main trench, we'd been moved back to the front and i was less than happy, the good news being we were back in Ypres, which was somewhat quieter than many places on the Western front. I was recieving news the Eastern front was not holding up to well, the Russian's suffering defeat after defeat, it was not good news. 

I picked up my rifle and headed over to the Captain, ready for briefing. He looked grim and I was prepared for the worst, "good news" he told me, "your team aren't going over the top tonight"

"That is good news sir" i said, momentarily relieved.

"You are though, Luitenant" he added, catching me off guard.

"Beg your pardon, sir?" 

"Your going over the top, we're desperatly low on ammo and some of those rifles need recovering, half the men are fighting with bloody sticks!"

I let it sink in, and then nodded. 

I went back to the team, a huge lump in my throat. "Something wrong, sir?" asked Alistair. 

"I'm going over the top" I said.

"Sir! I'll ready the men!" 

"No, just me, Private" I said.

"Sir?" 

"Recovery mission, it's a one man job" I explained. 

"Sir, i will come, i can help, i'll talk to the captain and-" the words tumbled from his mouth without thought, simple concern for a friend.

"No" I said firmly, "this is my job, just get me ammo" 

"Sir" he said quietly, running off through the sludge to find ammo.

I sat on a damp bench, resting my head in my hands to provide some brief rest. 

"Everything okay?" asked Johnny.

"Perfectly!" i snapped, not seeking his company.

"Fine" he said, stalking away.

I ignored him, in no mood for his arragance. Alistair returned shortly after with my ammo, and i thanked him, before seeing Captain, informing him of my deparcher. He saluted him and everyone watched anxiously as I climbed the ladders. 

I crawled along the floor, hiding in the mud and corpses, picking up rifles as i went. I saw a man dangaling from a bollard, hanging limp as a ragdoll, his lifeless fingers still clutching a bag of grenades. Carefully, i reached up and yanked it out of his grasp.

Out the corner of my eyes i noticed a glimmer of a scope. Quickly I ducked to the floor out of sight, breathing sharply, trying to control my fear. I felt terror surge through me and clutched the rifle like a lifeline to keep me from screaming. 

I watched nervously and saw the glimmer change direction, signifying it was safe to move. The mud was thicker in the deep craters, and men's bodies lay piled up. The smell was putrid, the stench of rotting flesh. Rats scuttled around, and I saw things moving in the mud, i shuddered and carried on, getting more and more rifles and precious ammo, ammo was worth more than gold nowadays. 

Once I had as much as I could carry I made my way back to the trench, listening out for anything that my alert me of a sniper or gunner. 

Deciding it was safe, I carried on and made it back, drenched in sweat, covered by a thick layer of mud. "Well done, Luitenant" said the Captain, clapping me on the back as I clambered to my feet. 

I dumped the rifles and bags on the floor, heading back to my 'room'. 

My room was a dug out with mud walls, the floors made up from bits of damp wood. There was small bed in the corner, a light, a table and unfortunately, no alchol. 

I could have done with a stiff drink, since i'd never been much of a smoker. Johnny came in, handing me a flask, "here" he said. I eyed it suspiciously and then unscrewed the cap, pouring the liquid down my throat. I felt it burn the back of my throat, it was vodka, neat. 

"Thanks" i said, handing it back, "where'd you get it?" 

"Sarah sent it" he said, sounding a little guilty.

"Even though she's just 'another guttersnipe' "

He flinched, recoiling at his own words, "I don't know why she does it" he said, shaking his head.

I looked at him and my eyes narrowed, "she loves you"

"So? Does, sorry, did Cecelia send you things?" 

I shook my head, not quite believing him and finally said, "when will you get it through your thick skull, SHE NEVER LOVED ME"

"She did, she told you so" he argued.

I rolled my eyes, not believing he could be so stupid, "she just said that, she never meant it" 

"But-" 

"Johnny, enough" I said, in no mood to fight.

"Fine, but is your Alice really worth it?" he questioned, "giving up society? You know they'll never accept her" 

"They will" I said firmly, "and I don't care if they don't, we don't need society"

He rolled his eyes at me, "always the optimist" he said, sitting down beside me. 

"Have you thought of Alice in all this?"

"What?" i said, not sure where this was going.

"It'll not just be you, they'll mock her, dispise her, she is not one of us and they won't accept her as anything less than what she is"

"She'll be fine" I said, suddenly a little worried.

"Just food for thought, mate" he said. 

I nodded, looking at the floor and puzzling it out. "Am i forgiven?" Johnny asked.

"No" I said, "I want an apology" 

"Tough you won't get one"

"Your a stubborn arse Johnny Peterson" 

"Could say the same about you Edward Kingston" he said grinning, I had a feeling we were friends again. So, breaking every rule, we proceeded to get plastered, passing out in my room, not hearing the bell alerting us of a gas attack.