Thanks to Private_Label and Black Tulip for the suggestions and their time.
July 1916
I knew how much time I had left to enjoy before I went to France. I had what remained of this day, tomorrow and the two nights that separated the daylight hours. That was it and then I'd be off to God knew what. Feeling pensive I stood at the side of the track and looked down at the houses crammed together side by side, the town of my boyhood, the town where I was born. I looked down at the grey sided buildings, with the tiled roofs and myriad chimney pots and I thought back to summers gone by. I grinned despite the leaden feeling in my tummy and thought fondly about those summers past, those times without care or woe, how I wished for them now.
Nearly all my pals had gone off to the front before me; they'd beaten me to it and had sailed out on the crest of a joyous wave of patriotism, surrounded by flag waving and cheers. All except poor Samuel Bragg and he didn't count seeing as he wasn't a pal, he wasn't quite 'right'. Poor old Sammy couldn't even keep his britches on; showing his dick to the girls as simple minded as he was and was the butt of all the kids' jokes, but right then, right at that very moment I envied Sammy's life. At least he wasn't going off to probably get killed, to have his napper shot off by old Fritzy boy. Oh no, Sammy would more than likely be trotting round the town in his clogs and bare arse for the next sixty or seventy years – lucky bugger.
I shook off my cloak of glumness. I had to act happy at least, even if I did feel like the world was about to end; which was a very real possibility at least as far as my individual status within it was concerned. I sighed once and set off down the familiar old track towards home.
My boots clattered harshly on the cobbles as I walked up past the pub. I cussed at the damned things since I wanted only to be in amongst the familiar surroundings of our little terrace and the bloody noise of the segs and hobnails meant that I attracted attention from within the pub.
I was greeted by smiling faces, every one wishing me well, and all of them ruddy with the warmth of the day and the pints of ale they'd been supping.
'Ah lad, thah'll be off soon, eh lad?' the common greeting.
I nodded and smiled nervously, still trying to put on a brave face and taking several long pulls at the earthenware jug of tepid ale that had been thrust into my hand. I wasn't used to drink, being scarcely eighteen and I soon felt the effects of the stuff furring the edges of my consciousness.
As I drank I felt the sharp edge of fear and foreboding become blunted and as those anxieties lessened they were replaced in direct proportion by good feeling towards my friends in the bar. It was while I was in the grip of this fleeting good humour that I found the courage, albeit Dutch, to speak to Josephine, the landlord's daughter.
I'd known Josephine all my life. Apparently we'd been friendly as infants, not that I could recall of course, but in later years all throughout school I'd been tongue tied and awkward in her company. Each time our paths crossed and we had any reason to speak I would be overcome by a feeling of oafishness, then with the subsequent embarrassment that I felt since I was sure she must regard me as an idiot. Josephine was to me the embodiment of feminine beauty, a jewel amongst the muck, fair haired and apple cheeked. I'd thought she was lovely for as long as I could recall and the feminine curves that were only hinted at beneath her long skirts and bodice had the power to overwhelm me totally.
Until I was bolstered by the drink that is, until the penultimate day before I set off for war.
'I'm off soon,' was my opening gambit as Josephine passed by on some errand. 'To have a go at the Hun,' I added to impress.
'Aye,' the ambiguous reply from the angel in response to my callow boast. 'I can tell by the uniform an' all.' I was too bleary to see the glint of amusement in Josephine's eye as she teased me. 'But...' she continued in a low voice, 'you do look smart in it.'
I watched open mouthed with surprise as Josephine moved quickly away. I wasn't sure I'd heard right, and I was just as unsure about the quick flush of her cheeks as well. I wasn't allowed the luxury of deliberating too long before I was drawn back into the fog and the noise of the bar in general, with a return to the backslapping and toasting of my fellow townsmen.
I managed to dodge the next couple of drinks. It was my second to last night at home and I didn't want to waste it in an alcoholic haze. The men meant well, but they just didn't understand and I took the earliest opportunity to escape the smoky atmosphere and the din of the bar. I went out the back door and blinked at the sudden brightness of the late afternoon sunshine.
'So it got a little too much for you in there?'
I was startled by the unexpected voice; my temporary blindness in the bright face of the sun meant that Josephine's presence in the yard was a surprise to me.
'Aye,' I replied and my mind went suddenly blank as was usual in the company of Josephine.
'The fresh air should help.' Josephine laughed at my expression; no doubt I was looking a little fuddled with the combination of her presence, the sunshine, and the ale sloshing in my belly.
I finally focussed on the lovely lass when my eyes grew used to the outdoor glare and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I don't know if it was the beer, but Josephine looked even sweeter than she normally did. I'd never seen her looking so beautiful and although I knew I wanted to say something to her, I just couldn't find the words. She laughed again, unfazed by my gormless face and dull wit and I felt myself redden with the embarrassment of appearing so thick yet again.
'When do you leave?' Josephine asked abruptly serious.
'Day after tomorrow,' I replied as her reminder swept the alcohol induced cheerfulness away.
Josephine must have read something in my face because akin with my own feeling of foreboding I saw her smiling face darken. The corners of her oh-so-kissable mouth dipped and some of the earlier mischievous brightness faded from her eyes.
'Are you... scared?' she asked and reached out and placed her palm against the rough khaki serge of my tunic.
Scared? Scared isn't the word that best described what I felt. In truth I didn't really know what the heavy feeling was myself. What I did know was that I felt the hot sting of the tears that threatened when I thought of the possibilities lying before me. My stomach felt like a weight was lodged inside as though it were some sort of balloon filled with a heavy gas, nothing solid or even definable, just a sense of dread coiled in my guts.
Josephine's blue eyes moved as though she was examining my face. Her expression was one of concern and her flawless brow furrowed with concern.
