Translucent

Chapter 33: Enlistment

August 4, 1914

The hot summer days ended abruptly when suddenly the world was terrified in horror. The news spread quickly. After a long trip since the Austrian archduke was assassinated, my father returned–aggravated. The British Empire had joined forces with France and the Russian Empire against Germany and Austria-Hungary. War was before us. I immediately knew where this was going. Husbands, fathers, brothers, and friends left the country to France, gambling their lives and possibilities of ever coming back to their loved ones. In a split second, Lord Kitchener's face and his statement of recruitment were everywhere. Patriotism erupted.

I caught a terrible fever that night, one of the symptoms of my illness. Like always, I treated it just like any other day.

The supper went cold. The food was bland. Neither mother nor I spoke a word while I was trembling throughout the supper, trying to withstand the overwhelming body temperature. For the first time, Papa stopped talking about his plans on sending me Edinburgh. The war diverted everyone from their regular conversation now that it affected the economy and my father's business could barely escape from the crisis. We were losing money. Papa didn't have to tell but I knew the moment he told us the war erupted, he was in trouble too. Debts began to pile up, and that was when the argument sparked.

"Thomas, are you mental?" Mama snapped on the table. "First, you shoved business into his mouth, and now you're going to send Cornelius to the Front Line? What on earth has Weatherby influenced you with?"

But Mama and I knew it was more than an order. It was revealed that my father had decided to delay the business studies he intended for me to do to enlist me in the war. Papa had acquired himself a very prestigious client long before the war, Harold Weatherby, a Brigadier General of the Scottish Regiment. He apparently had been very persuasive in passing on his ideology and political belief, something Papa had been eagerly talking about as dinner conversation.

He would bring up the current issues, doubting the Parliament yet supporting Prime Minister Asquith for his achievement in introducing pensions. However, I despised politics. History had recounted many people getting killed as a result of it. Rage and conflicts took place, dividing societies and destroying lives. But Papa worshipped it like his new faith.

Along with politics, there came money. I found out Weatherby had promised Papa a huge sum of money for the business he ran at Perthshire as an exchange of his alliance with him. Papa and Weatherby made a deal–a quite gruesome one.

–that I enlist to the Scottish Regiment in exchange for some good sum.

"Not just Cornelius but all men in this country, Eloise. Stop overreacting." Papa snarled. "If our son can work in a garage. His physical demands there would ensure that he can enlist to the Front Line. He's prepared for this."

"But our son isn't like any other chaps out there. I doubt he barely meets the requirements."

"Do you think I would risk our family's reputation? Weatherby has been our biggest resource for money even at the hardest time and this is how we repay his contribution?"

"Aren't you concerned at the slightest that you're putting our son in danger? He could be...killed! Have you lost your mind?"

"This is war, Eloise. Many men spill their blood for our country."

Then he left, leaving his meal unfinished. A servant, Henrietta, rushed in to take it away.

Mama froze on her chair. I approached her and rested my hands on her shoulders.

"Papa is right. I should be at the Front, fighting like what other youths do." I said, rubbing her shoulders.

"But your place isn't out there. You are not like any other young man." Mama trembled.