Historical Fiction Smackdown #1 Round #2

190 7 4
                                    

The Glory Of War

Synopsis: After the battle of St. Quentin Canal, during The Great War, Corporal Kenneth Robinson is left with shrapnel in his chest. He lays on his hospital bed waiting for the decision on his health, hoping he can go home but unsure whether the doctor would proclaim him ill enough. The only person who can help him, by convincing his superior, is junior doctor Daniel Robinson.

Not knowing whether his brother is still alive, Daniel returns home after the war. He reflects on his decision after the war, wondering if he did the right thing. His brother wanted to fight, he wanted to serve his country, he had done what he wanted to do. So why does Daniel feel so guilty? Why is Doctor Robinson worried he sent his own brother to his death?

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Kenneth

30th September 1918

Daniel looked up from the man he has checking over, to see a nurses running towards him. He lowered his brown eyes slowly back to the wound he was binding, pleased that the compression was working. His hands were less bloody than before, and the bandage around the man’s abdomen only had a little blood seep through.

“Mr Johnson can go home, Doctor Robinson,” The young woman’s northern British accent rang across the room, becoming a nuisance to Daniel. Her flat shoes rubbed against the waxed, tiled floors. Along with the rest of the room, it was all practical. Rows of beds filled with men, it was lucky the floor was clear of soldiers and she could move so fast.

He sharply looked up. “You are disturbing my patient nurse, kindly remove yourself. At the moment I agree with you, Private Johnson will be going home.”

“Your brother is on the same list,” The nurse said, lowering her eyes a little. She smoothed down her white apron, and after nervously rubbed the shoulder where her Red Cross patch was.

 “That could change.” He countered briskly, looking down at his brother. The twenty year old was asleep, his eyes were closed and his forehead laced with sweat. His short brown hair had been cut, whilst he had been in the trenches to prevent lice, but now was slowly growing back. It stuck out several inches, and was a thick head of brown straight hair.

Daniel checked his forehead, before continuing with the bind. He had alabaster skin which always flushed when he was ill, and now was almost a bright red.

“He’s your blood.” She argued softly, apologising to the young corporal on the white bed sheets who winced. “Don’t you want him safe?” Her voice echoed across the cold room, ruining the silence which helped the men recover.

“I know that. However, right now, he is asleep.” Daniel hissed coldly, dismissing her with a cool look.

Flustered, the young nurse left the room full of men. Daniel sighed and washed his hands, before turning to the corporal on the bed. “Due to your wounds, you’ll probably be sent home. The convalescent home will give you plenty of time to rest, recover and hopefully return here to fight again.” Daniel finished off bitterly.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get hit by a machine gun, Corporal.” Daniel wiped his hands on his coarse, khaki trousers. “That was the defence for the canal wasn’t it?”

The Corporal nodded, and then sank back into the pillow. “Well then, you’re lucky. The machine guns probably would have killed you, at least here you can return and fight as we all want.”

“Liar,” His brother said softly, his eyes inconsistently meeting Daniel’s. Corporal Kenneth Robinson had the softest green eyes, usually compared to the colour of wet grass; they always showed how vulnerable he felt. “You don’t want me here, you want none of us here… You’re one of those c-c,”

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 30, 2012 ⏰

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