"And if there's a reason I'm still alive when so many have died then I'm willing to wait for it."
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AS THE TRIO WALKED, they couldn't help but notice things strung about the abandoned topography. Blankets, ammunition, guns, bayonets, shells. They passed the remains of artillery and Genevieve saw that the gun barrels had been blown out.
"Look at that." Blake pointed at them. "They destroyed their own guns."
"They destroyed their own trenches too." Schofield said.
"What do you mean?" Asked Blake.
"I think they wanted us to go that way." Schofield explained. "They wanted to bury us."
"Wouldn't have been the first time they've thought up something like that." Genevieve said absentmindedly. She's walked into many traps before. Blake looked at her strangely.
"What-" he was cut off by a noise that made all of them ready their rifles. They all turned to the source, ready tofire only to see a rat scuttle over a dead German. Blake kicked a rockat it and it ran away.
"Bastard rats." Blake cursed. Schofield stared at the spot the rat was in, still a bit shaken. They walked in silence for a while until Blake finally spoke again.
"Hey," he said to them. "Did you hear that story about Wilko? How he lost his ear?"
"I'm not in the mood." Schofield replied. "Keep your eyes on the trees, top of the ridge."
"Bet he told you it was shrapnel." Blake continued.
Genevieve looked at Schofield hopefully. She wanted to hear to story. He sighed.
"What was it then?" Schofield asked.
"Well, you know his girl's a hairdresser, right?" Blake happily started the story. "And he was moaning about the lack of bathing facilities when he wrote to her, remember those rancid jakes at Arras? Anyway, she sends him over this hair oil. Smells sweet, like Golden Syrup. Wilko loves the smell, but he doesn't want to cart it around in his pack, so he slathers it all over his barnet, goes to sleep and in the middle of the night he wakes up, and a rat is sitting on his shoulder licking the oil off of his head!"
"Oh god, I would scream." Genevieve shuddered at the thought and Schofield began to laugh, despite himself.
"Oh he did!" Blake said. "Wilko panics and he jumps up and when he does, the rat bites clean through his fucking ear and runs off with it!
They were all laughing at this point.
"Oh, he made a hell of a fuss, yelling, screaming." Blake said. "Best of it was he put so much bloody oil on himself that he couldn't wash it off! He was like a magnet. Rats left us alone, but they couldn't get enough of him. Poor bastard."
