Field of Poppies

August 1917

"Come here, poppet." Amelia hugged her daughter close, trying to conceal her tears of relief in Annie's dark curls.

~~~~~~~~~~

A little later on, Amelia brought the letter to Polly. She couldn't bear to read what was inside so she decided it would be best if Polly did instead.

Apparently, letters from the rest of the boys were starting to trickle in. Ada had received one from John and Freddie the same day.

Polly stood in the kitchen reading the letter with a hand over her mouth. God truly had granted them all a miracle.

"They were trapped when a tunnel collapsed. It took the cavalry three days to get them." Polly reported the summary of the letter. She thought if she explained what happened, maybe Amelia could feel more secure about reading the rest of what her husband had written to her.

"Three days?" Amelia looked bewildered. "How on earth would it take three days? They must've thought..." She chewed on her lower lip. There was no putting herself in the same situation. She wouldn't know the feeling of oxygen slipping away, the terror, the realization that this very well could be the end.

"They're alright now," Polly said gently. "They're all okay."

Amelia couldn't speak. As they sat in the kitchen, she was mending the two matching teddy bears Max and Annie had. Two Christmases ago, right after Annie was born, Amelia gifted them to her children under the guise that Tommy had sent them. She wrote a long letter pretending to be from Santa Claus. Christmas morning, she read the letter to Max who was overjoyed to hear that Tommy had given Santa the bears to deliver to Birmingham.

Max always slept with the bear snug in his arms, but Annie never let go of hers. She dragged it all around the house, sat it at the table during meals, played with it outside, and even perched it on the edge of the tub during bath time. She was so enamored with the plush bear. But the adoration took a toll on the teddy and Amelia had to often mend it. Resewing the stitches, cutting off fraying threads, and replacing the button eyes a couple of times.

"She's asking about him." Amelia wiped a bit of dirt of Annie's bear. "Max shows her the picture on the mantle. He tries to explain but I don't know if she understands."

"When he comes home, it'll all work out," Polly said confidently. "There's no bond like a parent and child. We'll all find ourselves getting back into a nice routine. As she grows, she probably won't remember he was ever gone." She pointed out.

"Max will remember." Amelia looked down at the sewing needle in her hand.

"He probably will. But when he's older, I think he'll understand a bit better why they were away."

"I don't even understand why they're gone." She mumbled. "None of it seems right. Wanda's husband was killed. Now she's left with her entire life ruined because of this stupid war. I just don't understand."

Polly sighed softly. "I don't know if any of us will understand." She admitted and took a seat at the table. "It's not in our nature to speculate on these types of things. That's the role of the men in charge."

"Tommy always talks about how things are going to be different when he's back home. How he doesn't ever want to answer to another person ever again. Sometimes it scares me because...well you know him. He gets these wild ideas and won't let them go. Thinks he can take on the heart of the world and win. But what am I supposed to tell him? He's been this-this puppet for Britain. I don't blame him."