September 12, 1917

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Mary took a deep breath as she finished reading the letter. She couldn't see William's face, but she had a feeling that he'd look away as soon as she tried to see what he was thinking. It was a hard letter to read, as she knew it would be, and that was the reason she wanted William with her.

"He knew."

"What?"

"He knew he wasn't coming home." Mary opened her mouth to argue, but he pointed towards the end of the letter. "The last paragraph isn't written by a soldier who has hope, Mary, trust me. I've written that enough to know that he was hoping for death. Jesus, I had no idea he was this bad."
"What do you mean?"

"He had bad moments. I'd catch him just staring out at the trenches. He'd stare at the stars when we were supposed to be on watch. I thought it was just moments, not this bad."

"What would you-"

"I would've kept my eyes on him more. Goddammit, Blake." William stood up, Mary sitting forward so he could pace in front of her. "He was losing hope just like the rest of us; we just had no idea that he was just as bad. He was always telling stories to us, cracking jokes exactly when we needed it."

"Will-"

"I was his chosen friend and I couldn't even, fuck I could have-"

"Will! Look at me." She stood up, stepping in front of the soldier so he had to stop. "You had no idea he was wanting to die which means you could have done nothing differently. You weren't the only one around him either, meaning it wasn't just your responsibility. If anyone failed Tommy it was the military, not his friend who was going through the same thing."

"He always knew when I-"

"Tommy was good at reading people, even people like you who didn't want to be read. Now, c'mon, I think my mum and dad would want to read this."

"Mary, they'll hate me."

"Why?"

"Because it looks like he wanted to die, which means he didn't try to fight off that German like I thought." Mary's stomach dropped. "I can't be around your family right now. I'm sorry." Will started backing away, ignoring Mary's protests, before turning around and walking further in the orchard, leaving Mary standing. She knew that he would just continue to push her away, so she turned in the opposite direction and started to walk towards the house in search of her parents.

William found himself in the field that Mary had brought him to the previous night. It was the only place that he knew of that wasn't filled with people. He sat down, not caring if the owner of the land would kick him off. It was like he was in a daze, just going where he felt safe. He was thinking of Blake. The young soldier who had so much life in him the first day he arrived.

~~

"Lance Corporal Schofield." William turned to look up at his commanding officer, the soldier immediately snapping to attention and saluting. "At ease, Soldier. This is Lance Corporal Blake, he'll be part of our regiment now. Show him around."

"Yes, Sir." Will saluted as the officer walked away, leaving the two lance corporals to mingle.

"C'mon Lance Corporal Blake, I've got a night watch so I need to be well-rested tonight." Schofield made a mental rule to never get close to anyone else. He was fine with being alone. He learned the hard way what happens when you become close to another soldier. Eventually, you lose them. So, he made a pact with himself that he would never get close to someone during the war again.

"Where are you from?" Schofield ignored the question. "Okay, either you're deaf or just ignoring me."

"This is where you get your hair kept and your laundry cleaned. Mostly it's just our socks and undershirts that will be washed since we can fight without them. Keep your helmet and your rifle on or near you at all times. I'd suggest sleeping with your boots on, most of us do. We have no idea when we'll be needed at the front, so we just have to be ready. Don't wander too far and don't get too loud with whoever you choose to spend your time with."

Epiphany | 1917Where stories live. Discover now