CHAPTER SONG: "Before I Cry" by Lady Gaga
William Schofield was a man who had witnessed many horrors in the last few years, more so than any living human should see in their whole lifetime.
Just in the last twenty four hours, he had been swept up in too many emotions for his brain to comprehend.
The photograph he now held of this mysterious and wonderful woman that lay in her makeshift bed only served to contribute to his growing attachment to her. If he had difficulty believing before that she was from the future from their conversations previous, there was confirmation of it right in his hands.
A date written that had yet to happen and a photograph in blindingly gorgeous style... And it had appeared in his tin container as though he had always kept on his person.
While he had no doubt that Emmanuelle Hunterson was the woman with eternal possession of his heart and it was custom for soldiers to carry keepsakes of their beloveds close to them, Schofield knew that perhaps this was a sign that she would soon be able to return to her own era.
And if she did, would they ever see each other again?
He thought back to his dialogue with Thomas Blake, when they had been walking in the open fields and to the abandoned farmer's property. Just mere minutes before God had given him another reason to keep going in the form of his finding Emmy...
"I hated going home. When I knew I couldn't stay... When I knew I had to leave, and they might never see..."
He hadn't even been able to mention to his comrade exactly who he had been referring to when talking about his family.
And even when Blake had mentioned about his leave being cancelled when they were both due home soon, Schofield only merely shrugged him off.
"It's easier not to go back at all."
He truly missed his nieces and sister, but every time leaving them to pack up for the train to France left him more heartbroken.
But he had never felt more so than when he held Emmy as she sobbed in his arms about her childhood trauma with her father and her departing quarrel with her mother.
He never considered himself much of a hypocrite until he truly saw her express her desire for home. And the promise he made to her was slowly causing him to make a turnaround on that subject.
Seeing this picture of her only confirmed his final decision on keeping her safe...
He would ask her to come with him on his leave after she healed enough to travel. While he had every intention of figuring out a way to get her back to her own time, ensuring her protection was still his utmost priority when it came to Emmanuelle.
Yet, he couldn't ignore his bound duty to his battalion for the next few weeks until his relief...
A familiar male voice sounded outside as the Lance Corporal's ears perked up in alert. He glanced toward Emmy's sleeping form as she turned onto her side, groaning in certain discomfort in her sleep. Schofield breathed out a sigh as he quickly placed the photographs back into his tin and situated the container back into his tunic.
He listened closer to the approaching voice, recognizing it as that of Colonel MacKenzie, accompanied by that of Lt. Joseph Blake and Major Hepburn, the officer who had genuinely thanked him back in the cut-and-cover during the initial attack.
Schofield stood to attention, clearing his throat as he took a cautionary look back at the slumbering woman, a rare feeling of peace momentarily coursing through his body. She appeared to have calmed down into normal sleep, comforting him in the knowledge that she was getting the rest that was desperately needed and was beyond deserving for her.
He pushed open the flap of the tent and stepped into the afternoon sunlight. His eyes squinted from the brightness until he became re-accustomed to it, adjusting the entrance flap to make sure the light didn't stream in and disturb Emmy.
Schofield stood up straight, his back a steel rod as he composed himself to display the demeanor of a proper soldier. The past hours being with Emmy since their reunion after the attack had made him feel like a normal man again, like she was restoring within him a semblance of his former self from before the war.
Casting aside any distracting thoughts before they overwhelmed him, Schofield looked ahead and saw the three men of superior rank to him approach him in his line of sight. MacKenzie was leading the away, Lt. Blake and Major Hepburn flanking him from both sides. Blake made eye contact with Schofield, an apologetic look on his face that sorely reminded him of Tom...
"Lance Corporal Schofield." Col. MacKenzie acknowledged him, his voice commanding unbreakable attention with just those three words.
"Colonel MacKenzie, sir." Schofield saluted him, slight dread coiling in his stomach. He placed his hand down from his forehead and slowly back to his side as he awaited what was wanted from him.
"I'm stunned to find you still here rather than returning to your battalion having completed your mission. I assume you have a compelling reason to remain in this camp if Lt. Blake's story is to be believed." MacKenzie's eyes were hard and stern as he observed the younger man's demeanor. "Your motivation is in the form of a lovely woman of questionable origins, by the name of Emmanuelle Hunterson."
Schofield, trained in his stoicism, met the Colonel's eyes and didn't look away. He would remain respectful as possible to his superior officer, but he would still stand to defend Emmanuelle's reputation.
"Sir, there is a woman here that accompanied me on my mission, but she has done no wrong to anyone. She saved my life and I would not have made it to deliver my message if it hadn't been for her." His tone of voice hopefully conveyed enough for the Major and Lieutenant to vouch for him. "In this tent, she lays resting, exhausted as I am from our journey. All I ask to is to arrange secure transport for her to a hospital where she can heal properly from her injuries. "
"It's the least we can do, sir." Lt. Blake spoke up, walking to the Lance Corporal and standing on one side of him, as though to aid in guarding the tent entrance. "Is it not our duty first and foremost as soldiers to keep the innocent from the enemy's grasp?"
MacKenzie narrowed his piercing gaze toward the two younger men while Hepburn continued to stand beside him, seemingly conflicted on which side of this dispute to choose.
"The ambulances are for soldiers only, not citizens found wandering disillusioned in the middle of war-torn France. I'm not giving up a medical vehicle for one woman who would only serve as a distraction for my men from their duties." The Colonel was firm with his words, leaving little space for argument, but he knew deep down that this discussion would only escalate.
"Colonel MacKenzie, I must emphasize for her sake. Miss Hunterson rescued me from the river leading southeast from Ecoust. We were both tossed over the waterfall and she used her remaining strength to pull me onto the riverbank." Schofield stood over to where he was in front of the tent entrance, completely barring admission; his face impassive with a subtle determination to convince the superior officer in considering this woman's value.
"I did receive word from one of my privates, Sir. They had found Corporal Schofield with a woman in the woods right before D Company was to move out to the front lines. They were both soaking wet, and the girl was burning with fever. She was on the verge of death, Colonel. One of my privates took her away from Schofield and carried her to one of the triage tents. Schofield begged them to get her to safety." Major Hepburn explained further to MacKenzie, stepping in front of him to put his focus away from the youthful soldiers blocking his path into the tent.
"Something tells me Major that Corporal Schofield's interest in this woman's situation is beyond a mere obligation of chivalric duty." MacKenzie maneuvered around Hepburn and approached the other two men, both still guarding the tent's entrance. "I shall like to speak with the young lady myself, assuming she's more the assertive suffragist type, not to be intimidated by men with blood on their hands."
"No offence meant, Colonel. But, Ms. Hunterson is strong in ways you'd never know." Lt. Blake looked to Schofield for a response to his words about Emmanuelle, even though they had only one previous encounter earlier that morning. He could still feel her embrace of compassion for the briefest of seconds, shielding him from his grief over Thomas.
Schofield nodded to him silent thanks, ever grateful to be backed up by the elder Blake after everything endured to reach him with his tragic news.
MacKenzie chuckled in a darkly humorous manner, but it was without malice. After the hellish morning of losing a great number of men in a meaningless attack, he could have used a dose of comedy to lighten his mood.
He would oblige the men if only because he was without the dedication at the moment to push an investigation of inquiry into the Lance Corporal's conduct, keeping a woman nearby at his own disposal.
"Lieutenant Blake and Corporal Schofield, I will ask you to step aside and allow me to hear the story straight from Miss Hunterson's lips, assuming her tongue has not already been removed by the beastly Boche." MacKenzie knew in good conscience that those words exited his mouth before he could stop them. He pushed the guilt into the back of his mind before his authoritative stance withered.
Schofield inhaled a deep breath, restraining himself from stepping into the Colonel's face. MacKenzie could curse him out up to the high heavens for the remainder of the war and treat him like something found beneath his shoe.
But he would not make a mockery of the woman he loved, let alone before even meeting her for himself.
His antagonism toward the Colonel ebbed away, replaced instead with a chuckle of anticipating Emmanuelle's reaction to being interrogated by MacKenzie.
"I assure you, Sir. She has a tongue sharp enough to make Sylvia Pankhurst faint with shock." Schofield responded with a touch of wry sarcasm, his cynical side surfacing within his persona.
"William?" Her voice sounded from inside the tent, startled and confused. "Where are you?"
Schofield didn't hesitate in turning toward where she was asking for him. He entered the tent and saw the sight of her standing on both legs, still struggling to keep upright. The woolen blanket, patched and tattered was just long enough to bundle around her petite body and keep the ripped dress that bore more resemblance to rags than a garment to wear concealed from hungry male eyes.
"Emmy." Schofield rushed to her side, enfolding his arm around her shoulders as she doubled over in a bout of pain. She took deep breaths, hanging her head down toward the ground until she gathered the energy to slowly stand up straight again.
"My whole body hurts, Will." The vertigo threatened to overwhelm her consciousness, but she managed to lean her head against his shoulder to keep balance. Her legs were wobbling as she went down to her knees on the grass, pulling them both to the ground.
Schofield's arms went around her immediately, holding her with absolute precision not to embrace her too tightly and darken her bruises further. "You're going to be alright, my angel. I promise you'll be in a warm bed soon and have a full course meal to nourish you. My strong and beautiful Emmanuelle, you brought me back to life with your love."
His whispers in her ear comforted her as the ringing decreased to a dull symphony of silence in her mind.
Schofield could feel three pairs of baffled eyes on the both of them, but he didn't care at the moment. He hoped at last, MacKenzie would believe him now that he was witnessing a young woman in agony.
He could face a firing squad at dawn tomorrow and die satisfied knowing that she was being looked after properly and by kindhearted people when she needed it the most. Or if she was able to return somehow back to this incomprehensible year of 2020...
She deserved all the happiness the 21st century had to offer her...
MacKenzie watched, frozen where he stood as Lt. Blake went to assist the woman back onto her feet, mindful of her injured side as he adjusted the blanket back to cover her shivering form.
"Sir, you can clearly see she needs medical attention beyond what's here at the camp. Even if I return to my own battalion, I need someone to ensure she gets to a hospital safely." Schofield's arm went around her waist, gently pulling her to his side as he supported most of her weight.
"William..." Emmy rasped, her voice gaining volume from when she had first spoken a few moments prior.
All of the men failed to acknowledge her attempt to get their attention.
"Colonel, I think Corp. Schofield may have a valid point. She can't remain here, but the nearest hospital is at least a full night's walk ahead. Surely we can spare a motor for transport." Lt. Blake spoke up in agreement. He failed to notice Emmanuelle glaring at him as she stepped away out of the Lance Corporal's arms.
Schofield noticed her absence from his side, but stood by as she braced herself in between the two men.
She winced as she fumbled to walk with her wounded leg, but she looked both Major Hepburn and Colonel MacKenzie straight in the eye. The tear stains streaked down her cheeks, her skin pallor pale with exhaustion, but she exuded determined vigor. She looked over the decoration medals on their uniforms, bringing to mind their myriad of political accomplishments in the last few years.
But she knew that her Schofield had displayed more bravery in the last twenty four hours than all the generals mentioned the War's history did in its entire four year duration, hiding in their bunks while their subordinates climbed over that wall into the Hell-on-Earth of No Man's Land...
Schofield and Lt. Blake watched as Emmanuelle removed the blanket from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground and exposing her attire of the tattered beyond repair dress, leaving little to the imagination. The material was so faded that the bruises spotting her ribcage were visible along her abdomen...
The finger printed bruises along her throat also came into focus as she stepped closer to the superior officers. Hepburn immediately understood why Schofield was determined to keep this wounded creature from harm; as though he hadn't already sympathized with the poor lad before.
The boy loved her. Clear as the sun in the sky above them...
MacKenzie never broke his gaze away from the woman contesting him with her eyes, her mouth set in a firm line. If Schofield's claim about her sharp tongue was to be believed, and if she were to bounce back from her display of momentary weakness...
Then he would justifiably eat his words.
"I was listening to what all of you were saying about me." Her eyes darted from MacKenzie to Hepburn, then she turned around to face Schofield and Lt. Blake. They both looked down to the ground, avoiding her eyes in obvious guilt, like little boys caught by their mother sneaking a treat before supper.
None of the men responded, waiting to see if she would continue. And she did.
"All of you standing around, deciding where I would go and what was best for me, when half of you had never even set eyes on me before." Her tone of voice was rising with irritation and a rekindling flame within her that was slowly resurrecting within the small statured woman. "Speaking for me as though I wasn't a few feet away where I could speak for myself."
Schofield felt a smile of pride emerge on his lips.
"I'm not a soldier, so I don't have to follow anyone's command but my own." Emmy again faced Hepburn and MacKenzie. "I don't want to cause any trouble around here. All I want is get away from here, to a hospital where I can recover from being shot at and thrown over a godforsaken waterfall. I'm not a suffragist or any other radical you assume me to be. I'm only a human being trying to survive to see my family again. Now if you can't get that through your thick, helmeted skulls, then maybe you were both too damned stupid to enlist in this war to end all wars."
Her American Virginia-born attitude left all the men in amazed silence.
Schofield remained silent, knowing there was no point in telling her to back down from mouthing off to a commanding officer. After all, they really had no authority over her as an innocent caught up in this hell-hole.
It was another thing to love about her, the unpredictability...
Even Blake looked to him conveying with his eyes that perhaps she had over-stepped her boundaries, but Schofield only shook his head to him.
MacKenzie and Hepburn kept their eyes on the spirited young lady as she concluded her speech.
Hepburn smiled with softness to his eyes at her as he removed his helmet in respect. "My dear, I do understand the severity of your predicament. We did not intend to offend you; we're only trying to comprehend the situation. As splendid as you are, your presence can serve to cause conflict."
"Correct, Major." MacKenzie briefly turned to him before returning his gaze to the woman before him. "Ms. Hunterson, I'm prepared to make a bargain with you. I'll arrange for a vehicle to escort you to the nearest hospital as soon as the sun sets tonight. A driver and additional man from this camp will accompany you. The catch is that Lance Corporal Schofield cannot be part of that campaign, being bound to his own battalion at the Eighth and having completed his mission to deliver that letter to us."
The embittered Colonel felt his own heart lurch at the sight of her fair features falling with disappointment and worry at the thought of being separated from her Lance Corporal. He had pictured a similar look to the faces of widows receiving the telegram at their doorstep when he had to write that bloodstained letter to them.
His fingertips tilted up Emmy's chin so she would meet his eyes, wishing he could do more but knew he was powerless against the iron grip of the British government.
"There's nothing else I can do beyond that, Ms. Hunterson. I am truly sorry." He looked at her when he spoke, but directed his words also at Schofield. "Be ready to depart at sunset. Major, see who around here has a set of clothes close to her measurements and hot water for the lady to bathe."
"Right away, sir." Hepburn immediately turned away and exited the tent, giving one last empathetic glance at Emmanuelle and Schofield.
Emmy went back to her soldier and enfolded her arms around his waist, reveling in the rough fabric of his uniform against her cheek as she listened to his heartbeat. She had to cherish every second he was living...
They had only hours left before separation for she had no idea how long.
MacKenzie was about to exit the tent himself before another voice stopped him.
"I'll volunteer to escort Miss Hunterson, Colonel sir." Lt. Blake spoke. "She knew my brother Tom in the minutes before he was killed. It'll be an honor to make sure she gets to safety away from this battlefield. If she'll accept me."
He turned to the woman wrapped in Schofield's arms as though she were meant to fit in them.
"Emmy, what do you think? Would you feel safe with him were I not around?" Schofield rubbed her upper arms with his hands as she shivered involuntarily from a chill in the tent. "He did help care for you earlier today when you were ill, after all."
"Joseph, I can't have you choose me over your men. You have more productive things to be doing around here." Emmy went to the Lieutenant, limping on her injured leg. "And there's the letter Will wrote to your mother."
Her hands held onto his uniform lapels as he stared her in bewilderment and a glint of sadness to his vibrant blue eyes.
"I won't have you getting hurt protecting me. If you become an additional paragraph to that letter, I'll never forgive any of you." She wobbled forward, but Blake managed to catch her before she fell.
"Emmanuelle, I'll not leave you with strangers, nor leave you to travel defenseless." Schofield asserted himself, his serious tone of voice having no room for argument.
"All of you, this is not up for debate." MacKenzie made his final word to the trio. "Lt. Blake will join Ms. Hunterson and the ambulance driver at sunset. Lance Corporal Schofield, you'll be allowed time to say your farewells to her before receiving your own transport back to your regiment. That's an order and any form of noncompliance will be treated as insubordination, and you will all be punished in accordance to such disobedience."
Schofield enfolded his arms around Emmy, noticing the Colonel lock eyes with her again, as though he wanted to hide her from his sight. Lt. Blake stood valiantly at her other side.
"And what would happen to me if I were to be punished, Colonel MacKenzie?" She dared to ask what neither man beside her would breathe with their words. "As someone who's not under oath to follow your orders."
"Then you would find yourself not amongst the protection of the British Army, but at the mercy of the German barbarians. And you would be a beautiful prize for the Kaiser to add to his collection now that the Americans have joined the war."*
He exited the tent, feeling the eyes of Schofield and the elder Blake burning holes in his back. And the muffled sobs of Emmanuelle as she cried into Schofield's chest.
Even when she had hope of escape from here, there was the chance of the tables turning. Her eyes shut tight and all the sounds around her faded away. The vision of her in a post-Edwardian wedding dress again appearing in her mind only served to overwhelm the shattered young woman.
Tom's voice was in her head, calming her as her mind shut down amidst the shock.
"Joe won't let anything happen to you, Emmy. You and Scho have a destiny to follow. Just trust me."
The last thing she felt were two arms lifting her up to hold her close, most likely Schofield, and placing her back on the bed. A ghost of a sigh he exhaled and imprinted an invisible kiss upon her forehead.
*AN: April 6th, 1917 when the film starts is the day recorded in history when America officially joined the First World War.