"This looks like dog shite." Jimmy mutters, staring morosely at the tiny plate of food in front of him.
"Just eat it, you don't know when you'll get the next meal." I reply, spooning the grey mush into my mouth. I'm used to it, we don't eat to enjoy.
"Ellen is an amazing cook." Jimmy sighs and lifts the spoon to his mouth, tentatively pressing his tongue against it then shuddering. "What is this?"
"If you don't want it princess, pass it over 'ere!" Another soldier shouts.
Jimmy laughs along as they all mock him as he slowly takes a mouthful.
After waiting for him to force it down we head outside, sparking up a thin cigarette. Tobacco rations have reduced again and the cigarettes are so thin now they're practically gone in two puffs.
"What are we doing here?" Jimmy presses his hand against the mud wall of the trench and squints over his smoke at me.
"What, in general or right now?"
"No I mean overall? We've been in this trench for weeks with no movement."
"We're just waiting on orders. Once they come we'll have to go over the top." I gesture to the top of trench, to the muddy field that separates our trench from the Germans. "You've been lucky Jim, they've sent you here but we're not the focus at the minute, the battle is being fought elsewhere."
"So what happens when it's our turn?"
"Well, we go over the top of our trench." I point to the top of our muddy wall. "And the Germans go over the top of theirs, then we fight in the middle."
"And the point is?"
"Hopefully we kill more of them."
"But what do we gain? Do they retreat or surrender?"
"That's the idea... But probably not."
Jimmy looks at me blankly.
"The point is that we're blocking them from advancing into France with our trenches, while we're here as a shield they can't march through, they need to get rid of us first. The real battle is being fought in the air with bombs on cities."
"So.. We're just here as a human shield? We don't actually gain anything?"
"Maybe, if we can clear their trench we will gain that bit of land."
"But how many men will die for that little bit of mud?" Jimmy asks slowly.
I don't reply. I don't have to. I can see the enormity of what's happening here and how many lives it takes to win a bit of ground sinking in.
"Jeez." Jimmy breathes. "We're just... Just..."
"Disposable." I finish quietly. "We're just here to kill or be killed and block them getting further."
"We haven't been sent over the top yet, maybe..."
"It's just a matter of time."
I look at Jimmy's despondent face. He's not a coward. He just doesn't want to die.
The mood in camp is subdued tonight. There's a rumour going round that we'll be advancing soon and most of the men spend the evening writing letters home. Just in case the worst does happen, you need to let your loved ones know you were thinking of them.
I don't have anyone to write to, so I sit beside Jimmy, watching as he slowly scrawls out his letter to Ellen, lying that that food is wholesome and the conditions are great. I watch, smiling to myself as he concentrates carefully on his loopy, untidy writing. After half a paragraph his hand begins to cramp and I offer to finish it for him.
"Thanks." He agrees, massaging his hand. "Hang on, she'll wonder why me handwritings changed...." He grabs the pencil and begins to write as quickly as he can;
Just to let you know my mate Harry will be writing from here. I will tell him watt to say but you know writing ain't my strong point Ellen and to be honest my hand is hurting so you better write a bloody long letter back to make up for it
I laugh as he hands me the pencil and paper.
"Go on." I shift to a more comfortable position and wait.
"Where was I up to before that?"
"You were telling her about the food. Or at least lying about it."
"Yeah... Ok."
I don't want you to worry Ellen. I'm eating well and the conditions are good-
"Bloody hell! Where do you learn to write so nice?" Jimmy looks in amazement at my small, neat writing.
"Come on." I smile. "It'll be lights out soon." Jimmy nods and carries on dictating his letter.
Everything is fine, I'm well fed and I've made some good friends. My best friend here is Harry and he can't wait to meet you. I've told him you are the best cook in all of Yorkshire and he's looking forward to visiting and tasting some of your food. He's looking after me, so please don't worry, I've made a good friend and I'm happy although I miss you...
Jimmy trails off and looks as me awkwardly.
"Just say what you want." I say, aware that it's nearly lights out and the letters have to be finished. "I promise I'll forget it as soon as I've written it."
A faint red flush creeps up Jimmy's cheeks, but he nods and speaks again in a rush. I'm aware, maybe more than him, that these could be the last words Ellen ever hears from him and I keep my promise that I just write the words, I don't absorb them.
I just want you to know that you have my heart Ellen. I love you more than anything. Me being away won't change and if anything, being away from you makes my feelings stronger.
I don't want you too tell me you love me in your next letter, I want you to wait until I'm home, then tell me. It gives me a reason to come home.
Jimmy coughs, looking embarrassed but I don't react. I just pass him the letter.
All my love
Jimmy
He writes unsteadily just before the lights shut off.
We lie on our bunks for a minute before his quiet whisper reaches me.
"Why didn't you write home?"
I stare into the dead blackness of the night around us.
"I have no one to write to, Jimmy."
***
1912
I walk slowly to my mothers grave.
The 11th of September is always the hardest day of the year. I remember being 10 years old and called to Lord Ashburys library. He told me there had been an accident. My mother was dead. He tried to be gentle but at the same time he'd been wholly unprepared for the the impact of departing this news to a child and my reaction shook him. Over my anguished sobs he tried to reassure me that my position wasn't altered, I didn't have to leave the estate, but it made no impact.
The only thought in my head was of the softness of my mother, stolen from me, taken with no thought for how I could continue without her.
My father had died before I was old enough to remember or react to it and I suppose Lord Ashbury thought I would receive the news of my mothers death in the same way.
Of course I didn't. My mother was a real, tangible person and her death took a huge part of the world and safety I'd known all my life.
At some point in my breakdown Ashbury must have slipped out of the room, because the next thing I remember was a pair of skinny arms around me. They didn't compensate for my mothers soft, thick warmth, but still, they pulled me tightly against a childish bony chest as her soft voice begged me not to cry.
Evie wept with me, she wept for the loss of an adult that had adored her too, but more so, she wept for my pain as she tried to comfort me in her childish way.
Maybe that was the point. Maybe that was when I fell in love with her. With my mother gone, the only constant in my life was Evie and I realised then that in an ever changing world, where people you'd relied on your entire life could leave you, she would always be a constant.
I needed her.
I shake these thoughts from my head as I reach my mothers grave.
Evie has been here first.
The huge posey of fresh flowers confirm it. I place my own sad bunch next to them and sit on top of my mothers final resting place. I talk to her for a while, about what's happening on the estate, how much I miss her, how the new cook always burns the meat. At this last comment I hear a gentle laugh behind me.
"That's true. No one could cook like your mother Harry." Evie is standing behind me, looking incredibly sad. Seven years have passed since my mothers death but the look on her face mirrors my own belief that if feels like just yesterday.
"I miss her. But I doubt that's a shadow of what you feel." She says quietly.
"I miss her too." I say, a raw lump of emotion in my throat.
Evie's small pale hand grabs mine and we begin to walk. We walk past the huge mansion that is her inheritance and the tiny cottage that is mine. Past the fields and woodland until we reach the oak tree. Evie sits down heavily and gestures for me to follow.
Today is not a brightly lit summers day. Today is not for kisses under sunlit trees.
"Harry." She whispers, not meeting my eye. "Today father asked me to consider marriage to Lord Hazelford."
I close my eyes, feeling a sharp shoot of pain.
I knew she could never choose me. A simple farm boy.
Evie's breathing sounds unsteadily in the air between us. There's a pause before she speaks again.
".... I said no."
My eyes fly open in shock.
"I choose you Harry." There's a pause as her eyes meet mine. "And that will never change."