Duel

The Two Lance Corporals had taken as long as they could to cook the food so they avoided doing any real work. They finished just in time for the Lieutenant to call for them. They picked up the trays of food they walked into the courtyard, where someone had set up a dinner table with two chairs Evans and Tiscornia started setting the table. A few minutes later the Lieutenant emerged from the building, surprisingly, freshly bathed. Evans was unsure how she had found enough water or soap to take a bath, but it apparently had been done. He shrugged and finished setting the table.

Lieutenant Kestel walked past him towards the Vledscan’s main building and knocked on the door. A disheveled looking enlisted man opened the door, paused a moment, and then yelled back to someone behind him. In a few moments, the Baron came out and offered his arm to the Lieutenant. She took it and the two walked towards the table. Evans and Tiscornia pulled seats out as they approached. The officers sat and ate their meal.

Taking their leave, Evans and Tiscornia ran back to the kitchen and ate the dinner they made for themselves. Much better than the usual food they had. Once they finished, they ran back out to the officers, in time for them to clear the table. When they did, Lieutenant Kestel kissed the Baron on the cheek and walked back to the Ethslin side to prepare herself for the duel. She grabbed Evans, quickly ordered a Private to clear the table with Tiscornia. She sat down, took off her helmet, undid her hair, and pulled a letter out of her jacket, “Evans, if I die, I want you to deliver this letter to my father. Do not let it go through the censors.”

Nodding, Evans responded, “Yes Ma’am. Do you want me to tie back your hair so he doesn’t grab it?”

“Don’t worry, the Baron is an honorable man. He won’t try anything like that,” The Lieutenant retied her boots, “When the duel happens, I will take off my jacket and scabbard and hand them to you. You will walk back to the unit and stand with the rest. If I die, place them back on me. Now let us go. I think they are mustering.”

The Lieutenant stood up and walked outside, leaving her helmet. Evans followed her to the center of the courtyard. The soldiers were standing at their respective sides. The Baron was standing in the center, jacket off, sword drawn, talking to the younger Vledscan officer.

The Lieutenant took off her jacket and handed her scabbard to Evans. She walked up to the Baron, grabbed his collar, pulled him down, roughly kissed his mouth and walked back. She whispered to Evans as she drew her sword, “That should confuse him a bit.”

Evans turned around and walked back to the unit, next to Tiscornia. When he turned back around, the Lieutenant was standing about 5 meters from the Baron, facing him, sword in front of her face. The Baron bowed and the Lieutenant gave a quick curtsy. They started to circle, looking for each others weakness.

The Baron was the first to strike. He leapt forward and thrust towards the Lieutenant’s stomach. She stepped back and parried the blow, rode the blade forward and attempted to strike the Baron’s shoulder. He took a step backwards, pushed her blade up, and swiped downward. She lightly stepped backwards to avoid the blow. The Lieutenant then leapt forward and stabbed the Baron in the left shoulder. He winced and attempted to grab the Lieutenant’s blade, but she quickly stepped back. The Baron smiled, “You like to play rough don’t you?” He slapped her blade to the side and lunged forward, but she dodged. “Don’t worry, I’ll be in there before too long.”

Looking for an opening, the Lieutenant pointed her blade and said, “Sorry, but I am waiting until marriage to do that.”

Laughing, the Baron whipped his blade in a showy manner, “I think I can convince you otherwise, but your insistence on purity is to be admired.”

Evans looked at Tiscornia and whispered, “Is he hitting on her?”

“It’s part of the whole dueling ritual. When dueling was just between men, it was often over a woman. So, usually they would talk about their sexual prowess. Then, when woman started dueling, they had to be pure or something. And now it’s just part of the ritual.”

Evans shrugged and went back to watching the fight. The Baron lunged, and half a second later the Lieutenant jumped forward. The blade sunk deep into Lieutenant Kestel’s shoulder. The Vledscans cheered as the Baron smirked, “That feels nice, doesn’t it? Want me…”

He hadn’t pulled the blade out fast enough. The Lieutenant buried her sword into the Baron’s stomach, “A bit premature there. Don’t worry, it happens to a lot of men.” She pulled her blade up while she drew it out, cutting open his stomach.

The Baron attempted to respond, but all that came out was blood. He collapsed to the ground and gurgled for a few moments. The Lieutenant curtsied, did an about face, walked towards Evans, handed him the sword, and said, “I need this cleaned and sharpened Evans.” She then stumbled a few steps and collapsed. Tiscornia stepped out and caught her. He walked her to a nearby bench as the stunned Vledscan soldiers stared. Three of them were collecting the Baron’s body.

The younger Vledscan officer yelled a few words to his soldiers. Evans looked at Ustinov, who translated, “Let’s go home.”

Evans walked indoors to the Lieutenant’s office, put the Lieutenant’s gear on his desk. A few seconds later, four soldiers, including Boswell, carried the Lieutenant in. Evans quickly cleared off the desk, giving space to lie her down. Newey came in immediately after and pulled out his medical kit. He pulled the shoulder of her shirts down and started to apply dressing. Evans opened her mouth and started giving her small amounts of water from his canteen.

Once the dressing was on, Newey reached for a syrette, but the Lieutenant waved her arm. Evans stopped pouring to allow for her to speak, “Don’t put any of those drugs in me. I’ll be good.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Newey packed up his kit and pulled the Lieutenant’s shirts back up.

Evans pointed to Boswell and another female soldier, “You two, the Lieutenant needs to switch to a clean undershirt.” He went through her gear, pulled one out, and tossed it to the two, “I’ll stand guard outside of the room.”

Evans led Newey out of the room and shut the door behind him. Newey looked longingly at the door and put on a mocking voice, “Evans, you are the worst friend. My one hope to feel up a noble woman, dashed. I would have been the hero of all men in this army.”

Evans kicked him, “Oh shut up, you could have done it when you were bandaging her.”

“Don’t you dare tell anyone that. I don’t want to ruin my playboy image.”

“Oh, a playboy image? You’re a Lance Corporal. And once you leave the army, you’ll be some farmer in the middle of… Where again?” Evans pretended to think, “Oh, yeah, forty miles from Strongfield. You will be wading through women.”

Newey winked at a passing soldier from 3rd, “Bitches love farms.”

“What the Hell does that even mean?” Evans slowly shook his head.

Boswell opened the door, “The Lady wants you Evans.” She then left the room with the other soldier.

Evans shrugged and walked in. The Lieutenant was sitting up, “Fire the Green flare. Tell the Sergeant Major to send Third Platoon to hold the buildings across the courtyard. And, I’m going to rest. Tomorrow, we torture Sergeant Knowles to death.”

Challenge

“Evans. Come here.”
Standing up, Evans crouch walked over to Lieutenant Kestel, who was kneeling behind a window, scanning into a periscope across the courtyard. He came alongside her and whispered, “Yes Ma’am?”
The Lieutenant quickly drew a diagram on some paper. It was a crude map of the courtyard. There were X’s and O’s on various parts of the map, “Here is our position, and here are the Boxers. Knnecappers are spread out all along the sides, so we can’t flank. Our ammunition is low and so is theirs. The only solution is a direct assault with knives and bayonets. In which case we would be butchered by their remaining machine gun. The same is true for the Boxers.”
“Should I get the Sergeants for orders?”
Shaking her head, Lieutenant Kestel put her hand on her sword, “I’m going to make sure we have only one casualty at most.” She gestured to one of the bedrooms, “Get a white sheet and tie it to the end of your rifle. Meet me at the entrance in a few minutes.”
Nodding, Evans moved to the bedroom and got to work. He felt a tinge of guilt ripping apart the nice sheets, knowing that someone had paid quite a bit of money for these. He fixed his bayonet and tied a small rectangular piece to it. He then went downstairs to the entrance.
The Lieutenant was talking with Sergeant Campbell. She finished up and walked over to Evans. Her 80 centimeter officer’s sword was in it’s scabbard on her left hip. She looked up at him, “Poke the flag out the door and prepare to move out on my command. When we leave, stay on my left, keep you’re rifle aimed vertically, and stay silent.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Evans approached the door and leaned the flag out. He waved it for several seconds to try and get the attention of the Vledscan’s. He half expected a rifle grenade land right next to him any moment now.

Instead, he heard a voice shout, “Come! We meet at the fountain!”

Lieutenant Kestel tapped him on the shoulder and started to march out. Evans matched her step, when he cleared the door, he leaned the rifle on his left shoulder and rested it on his hand. She stopped him at the fountain. In a few moments, a bookish looking officer wearing an eighty five centimeter small sword approached. He was accompanied by a younger officer carrying a white flag on a rifle. Evans wished he knew the Vledscan officer ranks. Lieutenant Kestel spoke to him, “Stand easy.”

Evans quickly slung his rifle. The elder Vledscan officer seemed to issue a similar order, because the younger officer slung his rifle and nervously scratched his face. Lieutenant Kestel stretched out her hand, “Lady Demetria of Medway, whom do I have the pleasure of acquainting myself with?”

The officer took her hand, “The pleasure is all mine. I am Baron Semyon of Kalach. Now I must say Lady Demetria, I had heard stories of your great beauty, and they did not give you nearly enough credit.”

She gave a quick curtsy, “Thank you Baron. And I believe I have met your sister, the Lady Maria. Another specimen of beauty.”

The Baron nodded, “Now, on to business. Why have you arranged this meeting with me here Lady Demetria?”

She gestured to the two buildings, “I think you will agree Baron, that we are in a bit of a stalemate here. The only way for my soldiers to take your position, is by a bloody bayonet charge. And from what I’ve observed, you share the option. We are both soldiers of honor, and cannot back down from a fight, but we should not needlessly throw away the lives of our young soldiers.” She rested her left hand on the hilt of her sword, “So I propose a duel. Tonight, at sundown, we shall fight here, in the courtyard. Whoever loses, their unit will fall back, reporting the death of their officer, allowing the advance of the others unit.”

The Baron shook his head, “I would, but it is against my ethics to strike a Lady.”

Nodding, the Lieutenant looked to Evans, “Lance Corporal, hit me.”

“Ma’am?”

“Hit me Lance Corporal, on the face.”

Evans hesitantly held out his hand towards the Lieutenant. At her nodding, he lightly hit her face. She then turned back to the Baron, “My honor has been affronted. Is it not your duty to fight the Lance Corporal?” Before the Baron had a chance to answer, she continued, “I suppose tonight, about sundown. I shall be his second,” She pulled out her knife, grabbed Evans’ hand, cut his palm, and slid it back into it’s sheath, “Oh well, it looks like Evans has injured himself and can’t fight. I suppose I will have to fight in his stead.”

The Baron nodded, “I see you have forced my hand. It will be a shame to kill someone as beautiful as you.” He knelt and kissed her hand. He straightened himself up, “I will order my men to stand down for the night. We can recover the dead and wounded. And perhaps, Lady Demetria, you will give me the honor of dining with you before our duel?”

The Lieutenant nodded, “I will Baron Semyon. I will meet you here one hour before sundown. My man will cook. When the meal is done, we shall bring out our soldiers, and one of us will leave. And I do agree about the parties.” She then pulled to attention, “Detail. Atten Shun!”

Evans snapped to attention.

“About…” Evans drew the semicircle with his right foot, “Turn!” On the command, Evans turned around, while switching the rifle to the other shoulder.

“Forward March.” Evans stepped off with his left foot.

After a few paces they neared the door, “Ready… Halt.”

Evans obliged.

“Fall Out And Wait For Me With Sergeant Campbell.”

Evans took a step backwards, “Yes Ma’am!” He about faced, then walked through the open door. Sergeant Campbell was standing in the corner with an eyebrow raised, “So how’d it go Evans?”

Looking around to make sure the Lieutenant was out of earshot, he whispered to the Sergeant, “She is insane. But at least she cares about us.”

“Yes. At least she does,” Sergeant Campbell nodded, “I just wish she would show us in ways that didn’t involve her attempting to get herself killed.”

“Do not worry lads,” the Lieutenant seemed to appear out of nowhere, “I am a better swordsman than the Baron by far.” She then waved the other Sergeants in, “Alright soldiers, we have a momentary truce with the Vledscan unit. So I want each team to collect bodies and wounded. Since Sergeant Campbell is the Senior Sergeant, he will organize the parties. Evans, I need you to prepare a meal for the Vledscan officer and me. You may have one other soldier to assist you. Everyone, at Sundown, I will be engaging in a duel to the death with the Vledscan officer, so I want our entire unit mustered in the courtyard ten minutes before. If I win said duel, the Vledscan unit will back down. If I lose the duel, you are to collect your belongings and pull back. All Good?”

The Sergeants and Evans nodded. Evans raised his hand, “Might I have Lance Corporal Tiscornia Ma’am?”

Courtyard Push

The Company was getting ready to push for the courtyard. Evans looked at Sergeant Knowles gathering his rifle team. He then looked at the Lieutenant, “So what is going to happen to the Sergeant Ma’am?”

“Do not worry Evans. Once we take the Courtyard, he will die. I just need him for now. I’m reassigning Boswell under you as one of my runners. And for Lance Corporal Drummond…” She gestured to Evans’ rifle, “In the heat of battle, sometimes soldiers are accidental shot by their own side. I fear that in the chaos, poor Drummond might be killed. I accidentally dented his helmet while inspecting his platoon earlier. So…”

“Yes Ma’am,” Evans checked his rifle and got ready.

The Lieutenant pursed her lips, pulled up her whistle, and blew. The Company started to move out.

Evans walked alongside the Lieutenant, who was acting if this was an afternoon walk. She made idle conversation with Evans. It was obvious that she missed the more ‘refined’ company she was used to.

After about an hour, the Vledscan’s opened fire. Evans first moved the Lieutenant into cover. She seemed a bit annoyed that Evans pushed her down, and no doubt she would remove herself almost immediately. He then moved and looked for Drummond.

It was hard to find in the firefight, but eventually he saw the helmet that the Lieutenant had dented. He was unsure how exactly a dent that large could have been played off as an accident, but, that wasn’t the matter. Evans took aim with his rifle, pretending to aim for a window downrange, and pulled the trigger. Lance Corporal Drummond was knocked forward and collapsed. Evans yelled out, “Drummond’s been hit!” He then ran back to where he had put the Lieutenant. She was not there. Evans looked around the battlefield.

The Lieutenant was near the front, directing the fire of a few riflemen. A grenade landed near the group. One of the privates dived down it and closed his eyes. Nothing happened. He stood up, tossed the grenade away, and smiled. Evans ran forward and waved for the private to get down. The private was knocked over. Evans dove and crawled to the Private.

The Private stared at him and yelled, “I think I’m lucky today!”

Evans looked at the soldiers helmet, it was slightly too large, and a bullet had passed through the extra space.

Slowly the fire petered out. Evans ran forward to the Lieutenant, “Are you alright Ma’am?”

“I am fine Evans,” She looked over towards Third Platoon, “Anything happen?”

Evans nodded, “I saw a Lance Corporal get hit.”

She smiled, “Damn. Now, quickly check for casualties and then send a runner back to report our losses.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Evans ran from Sergeant to Sergeant, getting each count. Light casualties. Good. He then tracked down Boswell, “Private!” He wrote the casualty numbers on a piece of paper and handed them to her, “Run this back to the Lieutenant Colonel.”

“Yes Lance Corporal,” Boswell grabbed the note and ran.

Tiscornia walked up to Evans, “You’re growing up so fast. When I first met you, you were a little kid. Now, you’re a Lance, with people who do errands for him, and you’re married and expecting a child.” Tiscornia extended his arms to hug him.

Evans cocked his eyebrows and laughed, “That was… like… four months ago.”

“Me and Mom are so proud of you.”

“Wait, is Giuliano Mom?” Evans looked at the Company, starting to get together.

Tiscornia shook his head, “Ew, no, Chilly is the Mom. Why would Giuliano be the Mom?”

“Because you two are inseparable, and obviously dating.”

“Shh… I she doesn’t know I’m into her,” Tiscornia jokingly looked back and forth.

“Right. So you were just platonically kissing her while on watch the other day.”

Nodding, Tiscornia responded, “I was um… helping her… She had something stuck in her teeth, so I was finding it… with my tongue. Because I’m helpful. That sounds like a real thing. I’ll go with that.”

“Great. That definitely sounds real.”

Grabbing Evans’ shoulders, Tiscornia shouted at him, “Wait! I remember why I’m talking to you!” Tiscornia took a step back, “Chilly wants you to tell Lieutenant Kestel that our team is running low on ammunition. About twenty rounds per person.”

“Right,” Evans nodded, waved goodbye, and ran back to the Lieutenant. She was talking with the Sergeant Major, so he stood at parade rest and stared at her.

Eventually, the Sergeant Major left, and Evans approached the Lieutenant, “Ma’am, Sergeant Chilcott’s team is running low on ammunition.”

She nodded, “I’ve been getting news from the other Sergeant’s to that effect. I need you to run back to the Lieutenant Colonel and request more ammunition.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Evans turned about and sprinted back towards Battalion headquarters. He tried to remember which streets Battalion Headquarters was on today. A horseman rode by, Evans flagged him down.

The man, a Corporal, rode over and pulled up next to Evans, “What do ya need Lance?”

“I’m looking for the 2nd Battalion Headquarters of the 202nd.”

“No shit!” The man dismounted, “Are you with Fox?”

“Yes Corp.”

“Right, I was sent in advance of your runner Boswell. You need to advance fast, Intel reports that a Vledscan unit is advancing to the courtyard you are pushing to.”

“We need Ammunition.”

The Corporal shook his head, “You’ll get resupplied once you take the Courtyard.” He handed Evans a bag, “Green Flare when you take it. Red Flare if you fail.”

Evans looked in the bag. Two green and two red. He ran back to the Lieutenant, “Ma’am! No ammo until we take the courtyard.”

“Well, I guess we will have to take it fast then,” She drew her sword and pointed towards the courtyard, “Tell the Sergeant’s to pool their ammunition, and get ready to push forward.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Boswell

It was the First of November. Two days since the Lieutenant Kestel had taken over command of the company. They had pushed forward with little resistance to their present position and set up in two buildings. They then stayed in position awaiting orders.

Evans was sitting in the makeshift company headquarters with his feet on the desk. The Lieutenant was sleeping quietly in the corner on a mattress Evans had moved in. She looked weird in sleep. Instead of her normal, slightly crazy, war enthused self, she looked peaceful and happy. Evans would have called it cute if that wasn’t a completely inappropriate thing to call someone of her stature.

He shook his head. He was way too tired. One more hour and he could sleep. Just one more…

There was a loud knock on the door. Evans snapped awake and opened the door. An unfamiliar Private was standing at the door, smiling holding out a letter. Evans grabbed the letter, “Is this for Lieutenant Kestel?”

Nodding, the Private pushed past Evans, “Yes, is she in here?” She looked at the Lieutenant, smiled, and bounced up and down, “She is so pretty! Can I have like a little bit of her hair?”

Evans shook his head, “No, that’s weird. Why would you want that.”

“Can I touch her?” The Private stepped closer to the Lieutenant, and Evans stepped in between the two.

“No. Don’t touch her. Seriously, go away.”

The Lieutenant sat up, “Evans, is that you?”

“Yes Lieutenant,” Evans opened up the letter, “We have orders from Lieutenant Colonel Strummer.”

The Private bounced up some more, “And I’m Private Harper!” She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, “Can I have your autograph Lady Demetria?”

The Lieutenant ignored Private Harper and grabbed the letter from Evans. She quickly scanned the letter, “Evans, assemble the Sergeants.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Evans left the room and shook his head. He quickly roused the four Sergeants in the current building and went to the exit door to rouse the next three and the Sergeant Major. Evans hooked his helmet onto his rifle and slowly pushed it out of the door. Nothing. He put his helmet back on and sprinted across. He slammed against the wall and knocked on the door, “Lance Evans Open Up.”

The door opened and Evans rolled in, looked at the Private, “Nice to see you again Wesley, Can you tell Sergeant’s Howard and Stark to report to the Lieutenant?”

She nodded and ran upstairs. Evans then walked to the Sergeant Major’s office and knocked on the door. In a few moments a private answered the door, “What do you need?”

“The Sergeant Major needs to meet with the Lieutenant as soon as possible,” Evans waited until the Private turned to wake the Sergeant Major before he ran to the stairwell. Fifth floor was Sergeant… something Damn. Evans should really know his name.

Evans got out onto the second floor and looked around. A Lance Corporal was drumming on his legs.

“Hey, where’s your Sergeant?”

The Lance Corporal nervously looked around, “He’s ah… Giving specialized instruction to one of the privates.”

“I didn’t ask what he was doing, where is he?”

“I’ll get him,” The Lance Corporal walked to the stairs. Evans followed a few steps behind. They went up to the sixth floor, then the Lance Corporal knocked in an odd pattern. There was some clattering in the room, and Evans thought he heard a woman crying.

The door opened a crack and a Sergeant slid out, glistening with sweat. He swore and quickly did his belt and fly. When he saw Evans, he quickly snapped at the Lance Corporal, “What the Hell is he doing here?”

“Se… Sergeant…” Evans stuttered, “The uh… Lieutenant wants all Sergeants to meet at her office.”

The Sergeant muttered, “I hate that bitch.” He then looked back at Evans, “Now, what the hell are you still doing here?”

Evans nodded, “I’ll, uh… go wake the other Sergeants.” Evans ran to the stairwell. He paused a moment. Why had he said that? Evans ran part way up to the seventh floor and laid himself as flat as he could in the shadows. It was uncomfortable. This was really dumb.

After about a minute, the Sergeant and Lance Corporal walked down the stairs. The Lance exited on floor five, but Evans had to wait while the Sergeant plodded all the way to the ground floor. Once the stairwell was silent, Evans snuck back onto the sixth floor. He slowly approached the door and put his hand on the doorknob, twisted it, and slowly pushed it open. He heard someone softly cry “No.”

Evans pulled out his lighter and lit his candle to illuminate the dark room, “Whose there?” His eyes slowly adjusted and he saw.

All the windows in the room had been blocked out. Most of the furniture had been moved to the walls, and, in the center, was a cot. A Private was sitting there, who had been in the midst of dressing herself when Evans came in. Evans quickly averted his eyes and whispered, “Sorry… Private. Are you alright?”

More crying. “No.”

“What’s the Sergeant been up to?”

There was a long pause.

“They’ll kill me if I tell.”

Evans didn’t know what to do. He shrugged, “I’ll protect you. Give me their names.”

“S… Sergeant Knowles. And… And… Lance Corporal Drummond.”

“Are you decent yet?”

“I am, Lance… What’s your name?”

“Jim Evans,” he slowly turned around, transfered the candle to his left hand and extended his right, “And you?”

“Madelyn Boswell,” She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. She seemed cold and clammy. Evans then waved her to follow him downstairs, to the first floor.

Wesley was standing at the entrance, and she waved at him, “I sent the Sergeants through, Sergeant Knowles passed me, and the Sergeant Major’s office is empty except for Joe.”

Evans nodded, “Good. Now,” He gestured back at Boswell, “This is Boswell from Third. I want her to join you on guard duty for the moment… Do you know Lance Corporal Drummond?”

Wesley thought to herself, “Tall, blond, little mustache” She smiled a bit, “Kind of cute?”

Evans looked back towards the stairs, “If He or Sergeant Knowles come by, find a place for Boswell to hide. And you didn’t see her if they ask. Once Knowles does go back upstairs, bring her across the street to the Lieutenant’s office.” Before Wesley could respond, Evans opened the door and sprinted across the street. He slipped into the door and walked to the back of the crowd of Sergeants. The Lieutenant saw him and gestured for him to head back to the office. He nodded, walked past the group, and entered the office.

Evans sat impatiently and waited for the Lieutenant to come in. She threw a notepad onto his desk, “Evans, I need you to copy this down and get it run down to the Lieutenant Colonel.” She started back to her bed, “We move out at dawn.”

“Ma’am… Wait…”

The Lieutenant turned around and raised her eyebrow, “Yes Evans?”

“There is an issue with Sergeant Knowles,” Evans heard a knock on the door, “I think that might be about this.”

Evans opened the door, Boswell was standing there, shrouded in a blanket, and Wesley was standing next to her. Evans ushered Boswell in. He stepped outside, leaned in, and looked at the Lieutenant, “I’ll leave you two to discuss.” He then shut the door.

“So what is going on with her, Knowles, and Drummond?” Wesley cocked her head at Evans.

He pointed across the street, “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your post Private?”

“Nah,” She shook her head, “I got off duty a few minutes ago.”

The Lady in Charge

The ground in front of Evans exploded and Evans was thrown to the ground. He saw Captain Simmons waving his arms, yelling something inaudibly. Evans felt someone grab his shoulders and start dragging him. It was Clark, the Lieutenant’s runner. She started to smile at him when a bullet ripped through her neck and the blood started pouring out. She dropped Evans and grabbed at her neck, before a bullet ripped through her skull, ending her life.

The body fell quickly. Evans got up, grabbed Clark’s rifle, and ran to the side of the road, behind cover. Sergeant Gabriel pointed towards a destroyed car about a hundred meters down the road and patted Evans’ rifle grenade pouch.

Nodding, Evans loaded a rifle grenade and waited for the Sergeant to lay down suppressing fire. Then Evans took to a kneel, adjusted his aim, and fired the grenade right behind the car. Evans then ducked back down and looked to the Sergeant, who signaled for him to keep firing his rifle downrange.

Eventually, a smoke grenade was thrown between the Ethslin and Vledscan positions, and the billowing smoke obscured the view. The Captain ran down the line holding up his pointer finger and gesturing to a side alleyway. Taking the signal, First Platoon quickly moved up towards the alleyway. Running back, Captain Simmons pointed his fist at the Vledscan position with one hand, and switching between a two and a three with the other.

Captain Simmons attempted to take cover again while Second and Third platoons opened fire, but a stray Vledscan bullet slammed into his shoulder, turning him around like a top. Evans shouldered his rifle and ran to get the Captain into cover. Once the smoke cleared, the Vledscans would take the chance to kill a wounded officer.

Evans knelt behind the Captain and started to drag him to the side of the road. He saw Lieutenant Claybrooks from Third Platoon run out to take command and focus fire as the smoke started to dissipate. Evans then looked down at the Captain once they got behind cover. The Captain looked up, “Thanks Evans.” He then passed out.

Nodding, Evans reached into the Captain’s jacket, pulled out some dressing, and applied it to the wound. When he was finished started firing downrange. He saw a rifle grenade soar over, collide with Lieutenant Claybrooks’ haversack, and she ceased to exist. Evans then heard a machine gun open up to the right.

Lieutenant Kestel took over. She grabbed the rifle off of a dead soldier and one of his rifle grenades. Then, with careful aim, she fired it into an abandoned grain truck, partially obscuring the enemy position. She then ordered a salvo of rifle grenades, drew her sword, and gave the command to charge. Evans drew his bayonet, fixed it, and started running forward.

As the dust settled, a surviving Vledscan officer started to rally his men to resist the attack. They didn’t have time to set up a machine gun before Fox Company struck.

Leaping over a machine gun nest, Lieutenant Kestel hacked down with her sword into the neck of a soldier. Evans jumped next to her and skewered a soldier in the stomach. The Lieutenant chopped into another man, looked at Evans, and grinned. The firefight was over, and the surviving Vledscan soldiers surrendered.

Evans looked towards the alleyway where First Platoon had gone. A machine gun had been set up facing straight down the alleyway. A few survivors from First Platoon came out of the alleyway, stunned.

The Lieutenant was looking around, and, not seeing Clark, pointed at Evans, “Go to find Lieutenant Woodward. He needs to take command of the company.”

Evans nodded and jogged to the survivors of First Platoon, “Is Lieutenant Woodward alive?”

The Sergeant wiped the blood from his face and looked past Evans, “Maybe… It was charnel house back there. Evans nodded and walked into the alleyway, looking for the Lieutenant.

Most of First Platoon lay dead and dying in the alleyway. Evans picked his way through the bodies, looking for Lieutenant Woodward.

Eventually, he saw the officer’s body lying face down on top of a private. Evans rolled the body over, and half his face was missing. There was a whimper from the private. Evans knelt down and helped the soldier up. She was covered in blood, but otherwise, unharmed.

The Private looked at him and started bawling. Evans tried to comfort her, “It’s alright Private. We beat them. Now what’s your name?”

Trying to compose herself, the soldier responded, “I’m… I’m… Private Emily Wesley,” She looked down at the Lieutenant, “He fell on me… Knocked me to… And I just stayed there. I didn’t try and fight I just hid.”

Evans gave her an awkward hug, “Wesley, your not in the army to die. Look around you. If you had gotten up, you would have been cut down. All that you could have accomplished would be providing a fleshy place for a few bullets to rest… Is this your first show Wesley?”

She nodded.

“Just stay down, keep your rifle loaded, follow your orders, and you might get out of this. Now, if in a week, you still want to go home, talk to me. I might be able to give you some advice… And I’m Evans,” He let go, bent down, picked up a rifle, and handed it to her, “You should report to your… Someone in your chain of command. Or a Sergeant in your platoon.” He turned around and jogged out of the blood soaked alleyway.

Stopping for a moment, Evans wiped some of the blood off of his clothes and walked to the Lieutenant, “Ma’am, Lieutenant Woodward was killed in the alleyway, along with most of First.”

Lieutenant Kestel nodded, “Evans, Clark is dead, and I need a new runner. You are it. First things first, find out how many members of First Platoon are still active.”

Evans nodded and ran back to the Sergeant he had seen earlier, “Sergeant! The Lieutenant wants to know how many soldiers are in your platoon.”

The Sergeant nodded slowly and then shouted, “First Platoon, on me!”

A half dozen soldiers worked their way over. One Lance Corporal and Five privates. Wesley had wiped some of the blood off of herself. The Sergeant shrugged, “This is it Lance.”

Evans nodded and went back to the Lieutenant, “Seven Ma’am, a Sergeant, two Lance Corporals and five Privates.”

“Right,” She drummed her leg, “Run back to Colonel Strummer, Request a company to recover our wounded, and tell her we will be moving forward with two full strength platoons. Take a Private with you just in case.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Evans walked towards the survivors of First. Maybe a few minutes off the line would help Wesley. He waved to the Private, “Wesley!”

She looked over, “Yes Lance Corporal?”

“I need you with me to deliver a message. Lieutenant’s orders.”

“Yes Lance Corporal,” She looked towards First Platoon’s Sergeant, “Sergeant Howard… The Lady needs me.”

“Don’t die.”

“Alright, let’s move,” Evans pointed to the rear of the unit, “We need to update Colonel Strummer.” He started to jog back towards the rest of the battalion.

“Yes Lance Corporal,” She started to jog after him.

“So Private, did you call Lieutenant Kestel, ‘The Lady’?”

“That’s what everyone calls her… She is a Lady.”

“No one in Second says that. We just call her Lieutenant Kestel.”

Evans saw Wesley smile for the first time, “I like calling her the Lady. It makes me feel like someone important. Plus she’s so fabulous. I saw her in normal clothes when my train arrived. Her dress was so beautiful.”

The Battalion came into view, Evans pointed, “Let’s find the Lieutenant Colonel.”

The pair worked their way through the crowd until they found an officer. Evans saluted, “Sir! We have been ordered to report to the Lieutenant Colonel.”

The officer looked at Wesley’s bloody uniform, “She is over there.” The officer pointed behind him.

Evans and Wesley walked to the Lieutenant Colonel. She was holding a mug of coffee in her left hand, sipping it. Evans and Wesley Saluted. Lieutenant Colonel Strummer returned the salute, “News from Fox Company?”

Nodding, Evans responded, “Lieutenant Kestel is requesting a company to deal with the wounded. She also reports that she will continue moving forward with two full platoons.”

There was a crash as Colonel Strummer dropped her mug, “The Hell? What the Fucking Hell happened to Fox Company. Why is the junior Lieutenant in charge, and why are there only two platoons.”

“We were ambushed Colonel. Captain Simmons ordered First Platoon on a flanking maneuver. The Captain got hit. Lieutenant Claybrooks took command, and was immediately killed by a rifle grenade. First Platoon was then hit with a machine gun…”

Wesley spoke up, “Several Grenades as well Ma’am.”

“Lieutenant Kestel then took command. She ordered a charge across the ground and we took the Vledscan position.” Evans paused, “This is when we found out about first platoon. Seven of them uninjured. Lieutenant Woodward was killed by the machine gun.”

“Shit,” Colonel Strummer punched a wall, “Tell her that we will mobilize Eagle, and to push forward. She has the company.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Evans and Wesley saluted, did an about turn, and ran back to the company.

Award Ceremony

The cool breeze whipped through the crowd. It was definitely Autumn. Evans wanted to shiver and wrap his arms around himself, but, there were a lot of people out there. Staring right towards the stage. So he had to stand, unmoving, and stare right back at the crowd. General Richardson was off to the right, slowly going over the long list of soldiers in the brigade that had ‘Joined the Glorious Dead.’ After that, the list of missing, which mostly meant those who were ripped apart by artillery shells. Then would come the confirming of officer’s promotions. Finally, after that, the awards for gallantry, starting with the Fourth Classes.

Evans scanned the crowd without moving his eyes too noticeably. He could easily find his company, standing at parade rest near the rear, with their colors flapping in the breeze. Then he looked through the crowd gathered in front of the regiments. They were seated. They were the special guests. Family of those being promoted or being awarded with a medal. Up front were the officers families. The most important and most presentable. Farther back would be his family. His parents, and his wife, Anna. After a few minutes of searching, he found them. Anna and his mother were both wearing mauve dresses. It was Anna’s favorite color, and she had gotten Evans’ mother a dress of that color when Anna found out that Evans’ mother hadn’t seen the color before. Evans’ father was wearing a suit with a mauve tie he had purchased to match the two women.

It was weird to think of the army at this level. Evans was used to thinking about his platoon. Maybe his company, and he occasionally interacted with Battalion. Once or twice he had met Colonel Darling, the commanding officer of his regiment. Now there was another regiment standing beside his. And above his brigade was a division, and that was still just a small part of the whole army. Evans tried to do the math and figure out how many soldiers were in the army, but gave up when the numbers were to big. Math had never been his strong suit.

Why couldn’t the soldiers gathered for the awards be off stage, or at least at parade rest like the rest of the brigade. Almost on cue, Evans heard a thud as someone collapsed. Rookie mistake. The General ignored the event and kept on talking.

Time seemed to come to a standstill. The list seemed to go on forever. When the officer promotions came, Evans knew the home stretch was near. He had been instructed that, once the General pinned the medal to his chest, he would salute, left face, and walk off of the stage, and the ceremony would be over for him. Evans was glad that his name started with an ‘E,’ so that was early in the alphabet.

Then mercifully, after what seemed like years, “Lance Corporal James Evans is receiving the Medal of Ethslin Fourth Class. His citation, by Lieutenant Jane Ricci reads: In the evening of 6 September, Private Evans provided fire and quick transportation for me when I was under attack from a Vledscan infantry unit. After our retreat, we were still well behind enemy lines. The following day, we encountered another member of Evans’ regiment, where, with no regard for personal safety, Evans rescued the soldier in a display of fortitude. That night, we hatched a plan to sneak across the border into Ethslin held territory. Partway through, we encountered enemy marksman, who shot both myself, and the other soldier. Evans quickly took care of the issue, and acquired transportation for us in the form of an abandoned truck. We eventually came to a roadblock, which, with the assistance of some rifle grenades, Evans assaulted and crashed through. He then delivered myself, and the other soldier to medical personnel. Because of his bravery, I was able to bring back an important intelligence report to my superiors.”

The General cleared his throat, “So, it is with my pleasure that I announce Lance Corporal James Evans.”

Evans stepped forward, out of the line, did a right face, and marched the walk toward the General. He heard Anna yelling over the polite clapping, “WOOO! GO JAMES!”

He halted in front of the General, right faced, and saluted. The General returned the salute and started pinning the medal onto Evans, “Nice work Lad. From what Miss Ricci said in person to me, it sounds like I will see you up here for at least a Second Class soon enough.” He stepped back. Evans saluted and the General returned the salute, “Now go see that wife of yours, sex after a MOE is magnificent.”

Evans did a left face and walked off the stage. A bit confused as to what just happened. He walked over to one of the benches that was open for the soldiers being awarded and sat down. A few minutes later, a strong looking Sergeant walked up to him, “Is this seat taken?”

“No Sergeant.”

The Sergeant sat down, “I’m Perry McGlothlin, B Company of the 202nd. Which one are you?”

“Lance Corporal Evans. Fox of the 202nd.”

“Ah, that was an exciting story to hear. This your first MOE?”

Evans nodded, “Yes Sergeant. How about you?”

“No,” He gestured to his ribbons and the medal around his neck “One third class and a second. My first fourth though.”

“Wow…” Evans shook his head, “So, the General-”

“How does he know so much about you?” Sergeant McGlothlin interrupted, “He reads the files on every soldier awarded an MOE. Don’t be surprised if during a Brigade inspection he asks you about your hometown. It’s impressive really. He knows the name of my wife and our two kids. It does help that I’ve been serving under him since he was a Major eight years ago.”

“Really, eight years and he’s already a General?”

The Sergeant nodded, “He’s going to be running this army someday. Plus, scaling the army up really helped get people their promotions. I was a fresh Corporal when the war started, and now I’m the senior Sergeant in my Company.”

The two talked for a while, until the General finished presenting the awards. The door was then opened and they were allowed to leave. Evans shook the Sergeants hand and ran out to greet his family. One last night of freedom before going back to war.

Cast Off

Evans heard the whir of the sawblade slicing through the air. The doctor bent over and started to cut through the cast. It took a few minutes, but the cast was finally removed. Evans flexed his foot and then swung his leg down from the bench, “So doctor, am I free to go now? I’m to meet my wife soon.”

“Just a few more minutes, I need to do a few quick tests and some paperwork. Bloody Army doctors can’t seem to function if I don’t send them a few pounds of bloody paper,” The doctor started writing on a clipboard while tapping Evans on the leg with a small mallet. After a few minutes, he dropped the mallet and asked, “Could you please walk across the room without the crutches Mister Evans?”

“Yes Doctor Rossendale,” Evans bent over and put on his right sock and shoe. Happy to finally put it on after a month of it in a cast. He then stood up and straightened out his clothes. He slowly walked across the room. He stumbled for a moment, but was able to walk across the room.

The Doctor smiled and wrote a few things on the clipboard, “Good job lad. You will be good to go now, just sign this here.” He then held the clipboard out to Evans.

Evans took the clipboard and grabbed a pen off of the table. He quickly signed his name and returned the clipboard. Putting the pen down on the table, he left the room, walked through the front office, and exited the building. He looked around the street and tried to remember the directions Anna had given him. Ten blocks left, take a right, fourteen more blocks and on the right. He put on his straw hat and started walking. It was a mostly pleasant walk. Until about halfway through.

He was passing a dark alleyway when he felt a hand grab him and pull him to the ground. Instinctively reaching to his side, Evans remembered that he didn’t have his kit. No shovel at his side to hack into this mans neck. He kicked at the man’s legs and saw the flash of a knife. The man put the knife to his neck and pulled Evans up against the wall. Evans’ eyes widened, “I don’t have much money sir.”

The man spat in Evans’ face, “That’s all you coward’s think about. Money and sex. If it were up to me, all the coward’s like you would be lined up and shot.”

“Sir?” Evans wished he had something. His bayonet, shovel, even his helmet would have worked. To think, he would die in some alleyway.

“You Bastards and Whores who stay at home, while our brave soldiers fight and die on the front,” the man knicked Evans’ face with the knife before putting it back to Evans’ neck.

Evans’ was stunned and said the first thing that came to his head, “Why aren’t you in the army sir?”

The man scoffed, “You young people trying to push your problems off on the older generation. I’m forty five, and have duties, I can hardly go off to war.” He leaned in to spit again and Evans took the opportunity.

He headbutted the man and grabbed the arm with the knife. Evans then wrenched the man’s arm behind his back and the knife clattered to the ground. With a crash, Evans slammed the man into the opposite wall, “It’s funny sir. One of the men under my command was in his forties. He was a pastor. An important established member of the community.” Evans hit the man’s head into the wall, “I was wounded in combat sir. I’m on medical leave sir. I’m not wearing my uniform because it still smells a bit of blood and death. Now would you like to smell that sir?” Evans threw the man to the ground, “I must take my leave now, for I have an appointment with my wife.” With a swift kick to the man’s abdomen, Evans returned to the street and continued on his way.

Eventually he arrived at the storefront, with a sign reading, ‘Martin’s Tailors.’ Evans entered and a bell rang. The room was small. Two Captains were sitting to his left, and on his right, a receptionist was sitting behind her desk. She looked him over quickly and then took off her glasses, “Mister, I don’t think you can afford to have clothes tailored here.”

Evans nodded, wiped some of the blood off of his face and smiled, “No way in hell Miss. But I get this kind of tailoring free. I’m here to see my wife, Anna.”

Suddenly friendly, the Receptionist smiled, “Ah, Mister Evans. Down this hall and first door on the right.”

“Thanks Miss,” Evans walked to the door and opened it.

Anna looked up from her desk, “James!”

“Anna!”

An older man spoke up, “Lloyd?”

Laughing, Anna pointed to the man, “James, this is Lloyd. He’s a customer.”

“Your best customer Mrs. Evans,” Lloyd stood up and shook Evans’ hand.

“Yes, Lloyd is a General, and he pays for all his staff’s uniforms.”

Evans stiffened, “Sir! Sorry Sir. I did not realize you were an officer Sir.”

Lloyd waved him away, “We are off duty lad, and you are in the 202nd if I’m not mistaken, so I am far out of your chain Mister Evans… May I call you James?”

“Yes Sir… Lloyd,” Evans walked over and sat in a chair near Lloyd, who handed a paper to Anna.

Lloyd then stood up, “Well, I will leave you two on your own. Nice to meet you James.” He then walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Anna smiled at Evans, then a concerned look spread apart her face, “What’s that bleeding on your face?” She pulled a piece of cloth out of her pocket and wiped the blood off.

Feeling the scratch, Evans shrugged, “Doctor was a bit careless taking off the cast.”

Putting down the cloth she sat down, “It was one of them, wasn’t it?” She picked up a needle and started to thread it, “They’ve getting pretty bad. I’m glad that I’m showing now. There is even rumors of rape and murder down in Newacre where they are real ‘patriots.’”

“He pulled me into an alleyway with a knife,” Evans shrugged, “I guess soldiers can’t where anything besides their uniforms according to these guys… But hey, let’s not think about that. How about you hurry and finish up so we can get lunch, alright?”

Nodding, Anna started working. After a few minutes, she finished up the pocket she was mending and put away her needle and thimble, “Alright. Let’s get some food. I’m really hungry.”

Visit

It had been eight days since Evans had arrived at the hospital. Eight boring days. Get up. Eat Breakfast. Talk with Lucy. Lunch. Talk with Sarah. Dinner and Rounds. Sleep. Still better than combat.

Evans started his routine. He had just about finished breakfast when he heard a voice call out from the entrance, “James!”

He dropped his tray and attempted to stand up. Forgetting his crutches, he tumbled over and fell face first on the floor. He heard the patter of feet running over. Anna’s face popped down in front of him, “Sorry.” She kissed his forehead and then helped him up. She then hugged him and helped to sit him back down on his bed. Anna then stepped back.

Anna was finally starting to show her pregnancy, and was wearing a cyan dress. Evans smiled at her, “Long time no see.”

She gestured to Miller, “Are you going to introduce me?”

“He’s Miller,” Evans frowned. He then shook his head and smiled, “But whatever. So how’s Seahaven?” Bending over and listening to her belly, he asked, “And little James Junior?”

Laughing, Anna replied, “Work is… dobry. I mostly fix up uniforms for officers. And since I’m starting to show, people stop telling me that I should enlist. Now I’m a heroic soldiers spouse, raising the next generation of heroes.”

Miller got on his wheelchair and left the room, “I’ll be back for lunch.”

Evans waited a few seconds, “Well he does one nice thing for a change. I really don’t like him, and he’s the only other person in my room,” He smiled for a moment, “Apparently Lucy is not only alive, but being transfered to this ward tomorrow. She’s been in the Emergency ward, but they need the bed.”

“That’s nice. So how was everyone back in the platoon? How’s Tiscornia?”

“Still a Lance Corp, but Giuliano is a Corporal, and Chilly is all the way to Sergeant,” Evans smiled, “Plus, did you get my letter about the new Lieutenant?”

“It was all censored.”

“Well, the New Lieutenant is Lady Demetria. Literally. Like the future Duchess. Seriously.”

Anna looked shocked, “Wait… Really? But… Really? Wow. What’s she like? Is she as beautiful as I always imagined? Ooh, what was she wearing?”

“An Army uniform?” Evans paused, “She also had a sword with her, like one of those that knights used. And she’s really short. I sort of… You know, royalty I always imagined being taller. But what she lacked in height, she seemed to make up in soldiering. We charged three nests, with her out front with that sword. She’ll either get the platoon killed, or put us down in the history books.”

Anna hugged Evans, “Well don’t let her get you killed when you get better, I don’t want our dziecko growing up without a father.” She looked to the door of the tent, “Now, how long will we be alone in this tent?”

“A few more hours, no one really comes through here.”

Smirking, Anna got up and pushed Evans down onto his back, “You’re hurt, so I don’t want you doing anything.” She quickly ran over and secured the tent closed, then walked back. Her dress dropped to the floor, “Now my belly’s a bit bigger this time, but at least my breasts are too.”

Evans laughed. Anna approached and started to undo his belt. She looked him in the eyes. Her face started to melt away, revealing the skull underneath. Her skin caught fire, the room darkened, and Evans screamed.

As Anna jumped back, Captain Taylor ran into the tent, “Oh shit… Sorry.” He averted his eyes from Anna, who was covering herself with a blanket and approached Evans, “Lance Corporal. Are you alright?”

“He’s Dead! He’s Dead! It should have been fucking me!” Evans grabbed the Captain’s lapels and pulled himself up, “Why did he have to fucking die!?” Evans collapsed and started to cry, “It was my fault. I should have positioned the machine better. But no. I don’t even remember his name.”

“Shit, Umm…” The Doctor looked at Anna, “And who are you lass?”

“I’m his wife doctor,” Anna pulled the blanket closer to her and started walking to her dress, “I’m visiting from Seahaven.”

The captain nodded, “That would explain your state of dress… Um… So, was there anything up when you came in and um…” The Captain gestured to her clothes, “And undressed?”

Evans had collapsed in his bed and was crying. The Captain looked away while Anna dressed. She thought back on the few minutes since she had arrived, “No Captain… Doctor… He seemed normal when I came. He was laughing, making jokes.”

“Well Shit…” He shrugged, “I don’t know about brains. Um… I guess stay and comfort him. But uh… don’t…” The Captain drummed his fingers, “Do him?”

“Yes Captain,” Anna sat down next to Evans and started petting his head. The Captain shrugged and left the tent.

Anna whispered to Evans, “So, are you alright? Can you talk to me?”

Evans was quiet. He pulled his blanket over his face and put his face into the pillow. She patted his back. She reached into one of the pockets of her dress and pulled out a small package, “Well, when you’re feeling better, I bought you a book. It’s a detective novel. Bernard Sharpe. I think you’ll like it.” She then pulled out a letter, “Also, I received a letter a few days that you’re to receive the Medal of Ethslin Fourth Class, and the award ceremony is on the 23rd of October in Newacre. I found the address of your parents in Halton and wrote invited them to it. I also sent a letter booking us a hotel near the parade grounds. We get in on the 22nd, when you’ll report to Army doctors. The next evening, you rejoin the 202nd and receive the award. On the 24th… the 202nd leaves again.”

There was a moment of silence. Evans rolled over, “Sharpe? He always writes those sword fights. Who has sword fights in real life?”

Letter

After breakfast, the orderly came in with some crutches and a wheelchair. He picked two trays off the wheelchair and handed them to the Miller and Evans. He then left.

After Evans finished his meal, he put down the tray, put the letter in his pocket, picked up his crutches, and limped out of the room. Miller stayed in bed.

When he got outside, Evans was surprised, the camp was much smaller than he expected. Evans could only see six tents. The tent across was labeled, “Officer and Civilian Barracks.” The one to the right of that was labeled, “Main Office.” It had several telegraph lines going into it. On the same side there was a third tent labeled “Orderlies.”

Evans crutched out to the center of the camp. The two tents on the same side of the recovery ward were labeled “Emergency” and “Standard.”

There was a clearing a bit further down where a few people were standing, two or three people were in wheelchairs. Evans crutched towards them. The back of one of the soldiers heads looked familiar. She had black hair in a bun. As he got closer, his heart started to beat faster. It couldn’t be. Evans walked around to get a look at her face.

“Hey… Goldfish…” Lucy coughed, “What are the odds?”

She looked significantly worse that usual. Her face was mostly pale, her arm was in a sling, there was a tube running down out of her hospital gown to her leg, and she was attempting to hide her wincing. But, she wasn’t dead, which was good enough for Evans. He knelt down and tried to hug her. She leaned forward to allow his hands to go behind her back. When finished, he stood back up, “I… I thought you were dead.”

“Really?” Lucy weakly laughed, “That’s all you have to say?” She reached into a pocket on her wheelchair, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and offered one to Evans.

“Thanks,” He balanced himself on the crutches and grabbed it.

Lucy put one in her mouth and then pulled out a lighter and lit hers. She then handed it to Evans, who quickly lit his, “So, Lucy, what have you been up to then?”

“Oh… You know… This and that,” Lucy shrugged, “How about you?”

“Ooh, you missed it. Guess who is the new Lieutenant for Second?”

“You got rid of that Stoddart guy?”

“Yeah, Evans nodded, “And the new Lieutenant, is none other than Lady Demetria.”

Lucy softly laughed, “So there’s some family out there that decided Demetria is a normal name?”

Evans shook his head, “Nope, We just have Lieutenant Kestel.”

“Wait…” Lucy took out her cigarette, “So like… Lady Demetria? The future Duchess? The very symbol of beauty and grace? The person I pretended to be as a kid?”

Evans nodded.

“Holy Shit,” Lucy leaned forward, “What’s she like in person?”

“Insane,” Evans laughed, “I think you’d like her. She has a sword that she takes with her. We charged a Vledscan emplacement. Three machine guns. With her, on point, with the sword.” Evans paused, “Oh, and I picked up Lance Corporal.”

She laughed, “Bastard, I’ve been in way longer and I’m still a private.”

“But I’ve shown leadership in combat, and been reccomended for the Medal of Ethslin Fourth Class,” Evans put his hand up to his face, “And we took a lot of casualties.”

They were quiet for a moment. Lucy gestured at his leg, “So what happened there?”

“I broke it. I was in an armored car that was hit by some artillery,” Evans shrugged, “Tiscornia says I’m immortal.”

“Yeah, could I have some of your luck?” Lucy went into a fit of coughing, “First I get that shell that rips me up, get better, and then I get shot a few times.” Lucy took a puff of her cigarette, “Now I’ve got no Uterthingy which apparently means I can’t have kids. Plus I’ve got this scar on my face, and plenty of scars elsewhere. Plus I’m peeing into a bag.”

Evans shrugged, “At least you have a bathroom, in the recovery ward, they’ve pretty much forgot we exist. I have to use a bucket under my bed. I had to ask for these crutches.”

Lucy nodded, “I noticed that, I’m still in the Emergency ward even though I haven’t had surgery or tests done for two days.”

Evans shrugged, “Well, I’ve got to go send a letter. Great to see that you aren’t dead.” He turned around and crutched his way to the main office. It was a bit of trouble opening the door, but he finally did. The office was emptier than he expected. He saw Sarah tapping on the transmitter key of the telegraph. Evans stood and waited for her to finish the message. When she did, Evans approached her desk.

She waved at him, “Do you have the letter to send James?”

“Yes,” Evans reached into his pocket and pulled it out, “Thank you very much Sarah. How long will it take to deliver?”

“Only a few days,” Sarah smiled and took the letter, “They like to keep civilians happy, so they give me higher priority on mail service to back home.”

Evans nodded, “Say, what’s your fiancees name? I can see if my friend Jack knows him.”

Sarah looked back and forth and then leaned towards Evans, “I’m not engaged, I just tell that to most people because, well, you saw John. A bunch of soldiers want to get something from me while they’re recovering, so it’s easier if I just say I’m engaged.”

“Right…” Evans straightened himself up, “And don’t worry, I won’t tell Miller.” He shook his head, “And you were right about him. After you left he started whining about how it was unfair or something.” Evans then crutched out the door.

Recovery Ward

The orderlies carried Evan’s litter into the dark tent and moved him onto a bed. The two orderlies picked up the litter and left the room.

Evans sat up and looked around the room. All but one of the beds were empty except for the one to his left. The man in the bed was pale. He had a long scar on his face.

The man slowly looked over at Evans, “Finally… I’ve been alone in here for a week.”

“What about doctors?”

“There’s a cute Nurse that comes through to bring me meals every few hours. But this is the recovery ward. We don’t need doctors. And the Nurse doesn’t stay around long.”

Evans nodded, “So what are you in for?”

The man sighed, “Kneecapper. Ripped off my right leg.”

Staring into the ceiling, Evans responded, “Kneecapper?”

“Little Mines the Vledscans place. They pop up and explode in the air. My Lieutenant stepped on it. How about you?”

“Broke my leg,” Evans slowly sat up, “I was hiding from artillery in an armored car.”

“So what are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Rank, unit, whatever.”

“Lance Corp Evans. 202nd Infantry. You?”

“Lance Corp Miller. 301st Infantry. But I guess I won’t be going back there,” the man then coughed.

“So what do you do all day?” Evans felt his pockets, finding most of his things stolen.

“Mostly sit around. Twiddle my thumbs. Think about the cute nurse. Sleep. Wish I still had my leg,” He sighed, “But seriously, no one talks to me.”

Evans shrugged, “You should ask the nurse to eat dinner with you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Eh. Sure.”

The two talked for a while before a woman wearing a blue dress and white apron came in carrying two lunch trays. She placed them on the end tables next to Evans and Miller. She then walked over to Evans’ bed, “Hello, I’m Sarah. You must be James.” She looked over at Miller, “And how are you doing John?”

“Good Sarah. I was wondering, if you have dinner around the same time we do, would you like to join us?”

Sarah shrugged, “Sure. I don’t really like eating with those officers anyways. I’ll see you two in a few hours.” She waved, “I’ll be back in forty to pick up the trays. See you two later.” Sarah then turned around and left.

The two ate their meals. Evans took a nap for a few hours. He awoke when Sarah walked in pushing a cart with three trays on it. She pulled a bed over, sat on it, and handed out the trays. Evans grabbed his tray, “So Sarah, you said you don’t like eating with the officers. Does that mean you’re not military?”

Sarah nodded as she poured tea from a pitcher, “I’m a volunteer nurse. To be an Army nurse you have to be an officer, and to be an officer you have to have an education or connections, and I have neither. But I apprenticed under my town doctor so I have the skills. My fiance is in the army though. He’s a rifleman in the 351st.”

Evans leaned forward, “The 351st, do you know which company? One of my best friends is in the 351st.”

She shook her head, “No, We try not to talk about the war in our letters.” She pointed at Evans’ ring finger, “So you’re married?”

“Yeah, Anna. We’re expecting our first in a few months.”

“Well, This hospital is far enough behind the lines, I could help arrange a visit for you, to tide you over until you get outprocessed in,” She bent over and looked at the clipboard on Evans’ bed, “Three weeks.”

“Right. Thanks! I can give you her information. Thanks!” Evans took sip from his drink.

Sarah turned to Miller, “So, John, you have anyone special in your life?”

“No…” Miller finished his meal and placed the tray down. He shrugged, “I’ll have a lot of free time to find one now that I don’t have a job. And hey if girls like scars, by logic they must love stumps instead of legs.”

Sarah spit out some of her tea laughing. Evans smiled. He took a few bites of his sandwich, “I tell you what, I don’t miss the food on the front lines.”

Miller nodded. Sarah held up a finger and then reached into her pocket. She pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, “Here, you can write down Anna’s information and something to tell her here. I’ll pick it up tomorrow. Just don’t be too personal, I don’t want to read your icky married things when I telegraph it.”

Sarah and Evans finished up their food. Sarah then collected all of the trays, waved goodbye, and left.

“Fuck,” Miller hit the table, “Of course she’s engaged.”

“Really? That’s why you wanted dinner?” Evans laid back down in his bed.

“I feel like it’s sort of implied, asking a girl to dinner.”

“Oh, so guys and girls can’t be friends now?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like that’s the point of having women friends,” Miller shrugged, “You’re married, so that’s the thing right?”

“Well my best friend was a women who I wasn’t married to.”

“Was, and I take it that it didn’t work out, because it wasn’t worth it, right?”

Evans cried a bit, “She’s dead.”

Miller stopped talking. They were silent for a few minutes before a Captain entered. Evans sat up and gave a half salute. The Captain waved it away, ”You don’t need to greet in bed.”

The Captain walked over and picked up Evans’ clipboard chart, “So, Evans, you’ve got a broken leg, and three weeks stay with us. So, any quick issues I should be aware of?”

Evans thought for a moment, “So, if I wanted to get up and move around?”

“Use the crutches at your bedside and you can go out. You need to be in bed for muster at all meal times, which are 0700, 1100, 1800. Lights out is 2300, so be in bed before then.”

Evans felt the side of his bed, and didn’t find any crutches. The Captain followed him with his eyes, “Well shit then. I will send an orderly to get you some. Wait, shit, does that mean, uh… Miller, you don’t have crutches either?”

“I don’t have a leg, so I feel they wouldn’t be useful.”

“Well shit. Sucks to be you. Um… We’ll have someone bring over a wheelchair. Awkward,” The Captain tapped the clipboard a few timed, “I’m Doctor Taylor. Um… And I’ll try and swing by every few days. Nurse Clemson is your main nurse. She’ll take most of your complaints, and orderlies will come to bathe you every few days.”

“And letters?” Evans gestured to the blank paper.

“Bring them to the main tent, it’s labeled. Leave them unopened so someone can censor them, and don’t give them Clemson, since she isn’t military,” Captain Taylor nodded, “Any other questions?”

Evans shook his head, “No, I think I’m good. Thank you Captain.”

“Alright. Nighty night… Oh, and if you need something at night, just pull the cord behind your bed, it will ring a bell on the outside and someone on watch can get an orderly. Well, bye,” the Captain waved, put the clipboard back on the end of Evans’ bed, and left.