January 16, 1919
Schofield stares at his old uniform, the pain shown in his face. He wore it to every battle he went in, not knowing if he'd ever make it out alive. He stares at the brass wound stripe on his left sleeve and touches it, same for the old Lance Corporal chevrons adorn to it. There used to be holes in it, more than he'd ever meant to cause, but his wife managed to sew it before the funeral. He touches the fabric. He hears footsteps behind him as he turns around, facing his wife in her black dress. She wears a hat with a concession of some subdued paler mauve colour. She walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder.
''I am beyond relieved that you are back with us.''
Her hand trails down his back. He looks over his shoulder at her. He doesn't know what to say, which makes her turn around him to stand in front of him. She looks at the patches on his uniform. He made a promotion from Lance Corporal to Corporal.
''I love you to the depth and breadth and height, William. There is nothing like distance to stoke my proudness and love for you. Your absence only made my heart grow fonder.''
His expression is slightly conflicted, but he forces on a smile. For her. She kisses his cheek as she cradles the back of his head. She feels the scar and looks at him.
''Oh William...''
He moves her hand away; she feels the scar on the palm of his hand. She turns his hand the other way and gasps slightly. Her eyes meet his. He has a lot more explaining to do, but he shakes his head. Now's not the time. She nods understandingly. She helps him with his uniform and watches him. Her eyes beam a little.
''It makes you even more handsome and dashing.''
He gives her yet another small smile as she squeezes his hand. She then leaves him be. He sits down on the bed and feels weird being at home, wearing his uniform. In front of his eyes, he sees the bloodied battle of the Amiens happening. He hears gunshots, sees shrapnel flying everywhere. Hundreds of men get hit by his command. He led them into dangerous and deadly situations. He thought he was ready for the task at hand, that he could do what Joseph did, but he couldn't. His hands tremble slightly as he breathes heavily. Though the voices of his daughters snap him out of it as they run inside. They both take one of his hands and pull him outside. It's time to go bid farewell to Blake. As they arrive, Joseph stands in the doorway of the church, thanking those who come for their presence. He looks tired, his eyes filled with sorrow and misery. Though when he sees Sco, he can't help but smile. They shake hands as Joseph puts a kind hand on his shoulder. He kisses Sco's wife's hand and kneels to greet the girls.
''I will go find us a seat'', she tells him with a kiss to the cheek.
She takes their daughters' hands and walks away. Sco scans the church, there aren't that many soldiers present. Only a couple he recognises from Joseph's division. Then he spots Sergeant Sanders. Even he came to show his respects. He turns back to Joseph.
''I know it may be a lot to ask, but you served with my brother in the time I never saw him. Could you say a few words about him?''
That leaves Sco baffled. He hadn't prepared anything; he couldn't bear the thought of talking in front of people he didn't know if it wasn't him giving orders. But seeing Joseph's hopeful eyes makes him unable to refuse. He nods, his hand trembles again, though he hides it from Joseph.
''Thank you, Will. It means a great deal to me and my mother. And to Tom.''
Tom. Hearing his first name made it all too real. He always called him Blake; it was common to do so during war, calling soldiers by their last names. Joseph closes the church doors behind them as he guides Sco to the front. Sergeant Sanders looks up as he recognises Sco. They briefly shake hands before he sits down. The funeral celebrant stands in front of the church, next to an empty coffin. On top of it stands a black and white photo of Blake, next to it the family photo Sco withdrew from his left pocket when he was dying. He swallows as he can't help but stare at that photo. Of course, this one wasn't the one Blake carried. He put it back where he withdrew it from, covered in blood. If only he knew what had happened to Blake's body. As the funeral celebrant talks on, he shifts his focus back to the empty coffin and hears how the man starts to speak about the kind of guy Blake was to his family and friends. He hears the soft sobbing of Blake's mother; Joseph holds her hand. He hears the word 'Lance Corporal' and looks back at the man who presides over the memorial service. It doesn't take long after that before Joseph takes it over. He stands in front of the coffin as the funeral celebrant steps aside. He sighs deeply before he takes a small note from his pocket.
''I stand here in front of you all today, to honour my brother and best friend Tom Blake. He was the best brother I could have ever wished for.''
He stops for a second as he sniffles. Sco feels his hand trembling again, but manages to hide it. Though Joseph's hand trembles too, so does the note he's holding. He takes a deep breath before he continues.
''He always had everyone's best interests at heart, cared for all he loved. He always found a way to keep our family alive, to hold onto the love we had for one another. He was the worst in picking the Lamberts from our mum's orchard.''
It makes some laugh, even their mother, who sniffles with a smile.
''But he knew all the types. And he taught me too.''
Joseph lets out a soft sigh, takes another deep breath. He folds the note into his pocket and straightens his uniform. Then he holds Blake's tag in the air, the tag that Sco managed to take, including two rings.
''This tag is all we have got left of him. It shows what great service he did for our country. He fought for his land, for his family and friends. And we owe it to him to honour him for as long as we live, for he gave us our freedom back.''
He holds the tag in his hand, then puts it down on the coffin from soldier to soldier. His eyes shift back to the crowd, land on Sco. It was time. Sco swallows as he knows what comes next.
''There is one man here with us tonight who knew my brother better than I did in the last months of his life. He served next to him and wants to speak some words about Tom.''
Sco feels himself stand up and walk over to where Joseph stands. Joseph pats him on the shoulder before he sits down next to his mother. Sco stares at the coffin and the tag on top of it, now completely cleaned, his name readable. There's no blood anymore, no signs of the way he went. He slowly turns around as he hears a distant cough, addressing the crowd. He doesn't know where to put his hands and follows the crowd until his eyes land on his wife, who smiles emphatically at him. He also sees his daughters who look at their father, a hint of proudness and relief in their eyes that it's not their father they say goodbye to. Sco takes one last deep breath before he speaks.
''Blake was a good man. He was a soldier to be proud of. He saved my life, dug me out of a trap we walked into.''
He tries to stand there with a brave posture, but it's hard when your friend is dead, and you're honouring him without a body to say goodbye to.
''He always told funny stories, tried to lighten the mood as we went on a mission to save sixteen hundred men, including his brother.''
His eyes look at Joseph, who suddenly seems to be filled with guilt too. If it wasn't for him being with the Devons, his brother wouldn't have been sent. Sco knows that he needs to say something else to follow Blake's way of handling things, find a way to lighten the mood.
''I remember this one day where he told me about how he and his brother played soldier before they enlisted. How they poured jam onto white sheets, used wooden spoons as rifles. Not to mention the pots they turned upside down on their heads as helmets.''
It makes both Joseph and his mother laugh as they think back about how ridiculous both boys looked when they were younger. Sco looks back at the coffin and puts his hand on it. Even though it's empty, he does feel something inside him. Pain, sorrow, respect. Friendship. He slowly turns back, his hand still on the coffin.
''At the start, nothing left to lose, nothing to stop us from trying to save our country. But at the end, with hands shaking, we were immersed in a love undying. Now his soul will finally rest in memories lost without a trace. And forever will we be free to bask in the light of his grace. For the way he rallied for his fellow soldiers and loved ones, for each other. He showed me that family does not need to be something that you are born into. Families can be made, for he felt as family to me. He will always be my friend and brother, and I am every bit as proud of him as his family is.''
Sco never thought that such words of high praise would ever leave his mouth, but it did. It leaves everyone speechless. Joseph's eyes glistered with tears. His mother stands up and walks over to Sco. It's unusual, but the entire funeral was. She holds his hands in hers.
''No one has ever spoken such beautiful words about my son before. We are forever indebted to you and your care for him. I know you fought for him alongside my son, to bring him back home to us. I will never forget all you risked for that, and neither will I ever forget the words you just spoke.''
She gives Sco a brief hug before she stands in front of the crowd. As she touches the coffin, Sco sits back down with Sergeant Sanders. The funeral celebrant stands next to her as they say a prayer together, so to bring Blake's soul to heaven. Sco watches how she takes his tag in her hand. Once they're done, she kisses the tag. With normal funerals, they'd put the coffin into the ground, but seeing as it's empty, they've got nothing to bury. It'd be a waste of a coffin for someone else. They do have a gravestone made for him, which is what they'll add to the cemetery where other soldiers are being buried, those without bodies, but with identities. Joseph takes his mother by the arm as they walk upfront, Sco, Sergeant Sanders and the other soldiers follow after them, then his friends and other family members. Lastly the other attendees. They walk towards the cemetery and stand still in front of an improvised grave, the gravestone on its back on the ground. The funeral celebrant takes his position next to Blake's mother. Joseph looks over at Sco, then he looks back at the gravestone. Sco knows what he means, and so they both take one side and lift it, plant it in the ground. Once that's done, they step aside so everyone can read it and say their final goodbyes.
''Lance Corporal of the 8th
1898 – 1917
Tom Blake''
Sco stares at the date. He was only nineteen years old. Way too young. Joseph joins the group of British Army soldiers, so does Sco as he takes a step back. They raise their right hands to salute Blake before they step aside to let the other attendees walk past the improvised grave. The cross that first stood there has been taken away to make place for the gravestone. He watches his own two daughters put flowers on the ground. They don't know Blake, but they know he meant a great deal to their father. He gives them an appreciative smile as they smile up at him. His wife takes them away to make place for the others waiting in line. Once the line is close to done, Sco drapes the Union Flag across the stone as Sergeant Sanders folds and presents the flag to his mother and brother. The way they could pay for all of this is because they got financial assistance from the British Armed Forces, seeing as Blake was killed during active service, entitling him to a Service funeral. His mother and Joseph are the last ones to say goodbye, as Sco and the other soldiers once again raise their right hands to salute. Then they walk away to give the family the privacy to say goodbye. Sco walks over to his wife and children.
''You did wonderful, William. You gave him the most beautiful and most respectful farewell he deserved.''
She kisses him on the cheek as she holds his hand. He looks behind him one last time, before he lets his wife guide him away from the cemetery to go home.
To be continued...