The mental and physical struggle of war has never prepared me for that day. I had seen blood and guts and absolute destruction in the trenches of the first war.
All of my sons had gone to war. Each one of them had. Maxwell as an airmen, While Oliver, jack and Augustus went to the foot army. They had seen the horrors of mass destruction and battle. Men's blood splattered across their own uniforms and still told to charge forward.
So when they had gone out for a walk together to talk and spend time together before dinner, I shouldn't have frozen or wanted to puke at the sight of the blood.
Each of my boys were covered in blood, their clothes were splattered and soaked with it in sections. They looked stunned, dazed and as if they were dying.
Maxwell had a pistol in his hand. We had heard the gun shots in the far field, but we hadn't known why we had heard them.
The wolf den that had been preying on the family farm for generations had attacked my sons while they were on a walk together.
Elizabeth gasped and we were panicking, trying to remember how long it would take for the ambulance to get to the farm if we called right then at seven at night.
But Phoebe flew out of the house, tearing off her belt, and cardigan. She didn't even have shoes on, but went out into the muddy spring grass anyways, running over to the boys as they all looked so weak.
Elizabeth and I were standing on the porch as the sky opened up and began to pour. We couldn't move. We felt like puking and weren't even sure on what we could be doing even though Elizabeth knew how to give stitches.
But Phoebe wrapped her belt tightly on Max's upper arm, cranking it on as tight as he get it, making him curse out as he was trying to push her away.
But when he collapsed, she managed to get jacks attention though. "He's too big for me to carry. You have to get his legs."
Jack nodded, wide eyed and his jacket smeared with blood as he grabbed his big brothers feet and helped carry him as Phoebe gave the other two boys orders.
"Oliver and Augustus, help each other inside." She then looked to us as she was getting drenched from the rain. The blood was luckily starting to wash out of the boys clothes, but they were soaked.
"Elizabeth! Harry! Clear off the table and make space for them all!"
When we didn't move as Phoebe was helping carry our eldest, she yelled at us, pissed off that we weren't moving. "Fucking go!"
It felt frantic. All of this felt so rushed as I grabbed dishes off the table that I had set out for dinner. I cleared away all the glasses and the bottle of wine too, quickly getting them to the counter.
My wife was crying, trying to help but failing miserably as Oliver and Augustus stumbled into the kitchen, flopping themselves down onto two chairs.
Phoebe and Jack put Max on the table. He had multiple wounds from the wolves. He obviously had protected his brothers as best as he could.
Phoebe ordered Jack to sit down quickly after Max was on the table.
She looked around the room for a second then she nodded before looking at Elizabeth and I.
"Drive to the cottage house. Under the bed I've hidden a large metal case. It looks like a tool box, but has a Red Cross on it." She instructed.
Then she shook her head, looking at max as she quickly gathered cleans cloths and began to give them to the boys as they sat in chairs.
