1بخش

Blake.

Blake!

Sorry, Sarge.

Pick a man, bring your kit.

Yes, Sarge.

Don’t dawdle. No, Sarge.

Did they feed us?

No, just mail.

Myrtle’s having puppies.

You get anything?

No.

I’m bloody starving, aren’t you?

I thought we might get some decent grub out here.

It was the only reason I decided against the priesthood.

What you got there? Ham and bread.

Where did you find that?

I have my uses.

Here.

Tastes like old shoe.

Cheer up. This time next week it’ll be chicken dinner.

Not me. My leave got cancelled.

They say why?

No idea.

It’s easier not to go back at all.

Something’s up. Did you hear anything?

No.

Has to be the push, right?

Ten-bob says we’re going up.

I’m not taking that bet.

Why? Cos you know I’m right?

No. Because you haven’t got ten-bob.

In your own time, gentlemen.

Is there any news, Sarge? News of what?

The big push.

It was supposed to happen weeks ago. They told us we’d be home by Christmas.

Yes, well, sorry to disrupt your crowded schedule, Blake, but the Brass Hats didn’t fancy it in the snow.

More’s the pity, Sarge, I could’ve done with some turkey.

Well, I’ll make sure to relay your displeasure to command.

So, what’s on the cards then, Sergeant?

The Hun are up to something.

Any idea what? No.

But it’s bound to ruin our weekend.

Now listen, Erinmore is inside, so tidy yourselves up.

Never know might be mentions in dispatches for this one, if you don’t bugger it up.

Must be something big if the General’s here.

Lance Corporals Blake and Schofield, Sir.

Which one of you is Blake? Sir.

You have a brother, a Lieutenant in the 2nd Devons?

Yes, sir. Joseph Blake, is he..?

Alive, as far as I know.

And with your help I’d like to keep it that way.

Sanders tells me you’re good with maps, is that true?

Good enough, Sir.

So.

We are here.

The 2nd Devons are advancing here.

How long will it take you to get there?

I don’t understand, Sir.

Sir, that land is held by the Germans.

Germans have gone.

Don’t get your hopes up. It appears to be a strategic withdrawal.

They seem to have created a new line, nine miles back here, by the looks of it.

Colonel MacKenzie is in command of the 2nd.

He sent word yesterday morning he was going after the retreating Germans.

He is convinced he has them on the run - that if he can break their lines now, he will turn the tide.

He is wrong.

Colonel MacKenzie has not seen these aerials of the enemy’s new line.

Come round here, Gentlemen.

Three miles deep, field fortifications, defences, artillery, the like of which we’ve never seen before.

The 2nd are due to attack the line shortly after dawn tomorrow.

They have no idea what they are in for.

And we can’t warn them as a parting gift, the enemy cut all our telegram lines.

Your orders are to get to the 2nd at Croisilles Wood, one mile south-east of the town of Ecoust.

Deliver this to Colonel MacKenzie.

It is a direct order to call off tomorrow morning’s attack.

If you don’t, it will be a massacre.

We would lose two battalions. 1600 men, your brother among them.

You think you can get there in time?

Yes, Sir. Any questions?

No, Sir. Good.

Over to you, Lieutenant.

Supplies, Gentlemen.

Map, torches, grenades, and a couple of little treats.

Leave immediately, take this trench west, up on Sauchiehall Street, then north-west on Paradise Alley at the front.

Continue along the front line until you find the Yorks.

Give this note to Major Stevenson. He’s holding the line at the shortest span of No Man’s Land.

You’ll cross there.

It will be daylight, Sir. They’ll see us.

There’s no need to be concerned. You should meet no resistance.

Sir, is it just us?

“Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne, He travels the fastest who travels alone.”

Wouldn’t you say, Lieutenant? Yes, Sir. I would.

Good luck.

Blake let’s talk about this for a minute.

Why?

Blake!

We just need to think about it.

There’s nothing to think about. He’s my big brother.

We should at least wait until it’s dark.

Erinmore said to leave immediately.

Erinmore’s never seen No Man’s Land.

We won’t make it 10 yards. If we just wait.

You heard him. He said the Boche have gone.

Is that why he gave us grenades?

Watch where you’re going! Sorry.

All I’m saying is that we wait.

Yes, you would say that, because he’s not your brother, is it?

Look, the last time I was told the Germans were gone, it didn’t end well.

You don’t know, Blake, you weren’t there.

Excuse me. Excuse me!

You’re going up a down trench you bloody idiots.

Orders of the General, Sir.

Alright, say the Boche have gone.

Nine miles will take us, what, six hours? Eight at the very most.

So, we’ve got time to wait until the sun sets.

It’s enemy territory, we’ve got no idea what we’re walking into.

Blake, if we’re not clever about this, no one will get to your brother.

I will.

We’re here. This is the front line.

Now we need to find the Yorks.

Watch who you’re shoving. Get out of the way then.

Who the fuck do you think you are, pushing wounded soldiers around?

Let go of me!

Arsehole knocked down our Sergeant, the man’s fucking wounded!

I’m sorry, alright, I’m sorry.

We’re on commission. Just let me through.

Orders from the General. Just let me through.

Get out of the way.

Right. Just watch where you’re going.

It’s bloody quiet.

Was it like this before Thiepval?

I don’t remember.

You don’t remember the Somme?

Not really.

Well, you did alright out of it. At least wear your ribbon.

Don’t have it anymore.

What? You lost your medal?

It’s down, boys. Stay low.

God’s sake, careful there, you’re stepping on the dead.

That’s our Sergeant.

Be better washing them out of this dugout with a bloody hose.

Do you know where the Yorks are?

The next bend you’ll be standing on top of half of them.

Shot to hell two nights ago.

Yorks?

Yes, Corp.

Where’s Major Stevenson?

Was killed a couple of nights ago, Corporal.

Lieutenant Leslie has command.

Where can we find him?

Next dug-out.

Here.

Sir? Lieutenant Leslie, Sir?

What is it?

We have a message from General Erinmore.

Are you our relief? No, Sir.

Then, when the fucking hell are they due?

We don’t know, Sir. But we’ve got orders to cross here.

That is the German front line. We know, Sir.

If you’ll just take the letter.

Settle a bet, what day is it?

Friday.

Friday? Well, well, well. None of us was right.

This idiot thought it was Tuesday.

Sorry, Sir.

Are they out of their fucking minds?

One slow night, and the brass think the Hun have just gone home.

Do you think they’re wrong, Sir?

We lost an officer and three men two nights ago.

They were shot to bits patching up wire.

We dragged two of them back here. Needn’t have bothered.

Sir, the General is sure the enemy have withdrawn.

There are aerials of the new line.

Shut up. We’ve fought and died over every inch of this fucking place,

now they suddenly give us miles? It’s a trap.

But, chin up. There’s a medal in it for sure.

Nothing like a scrap of ribbon to cheer up a widow.

Alright.

Where’s the nearest way through, Sir?

Our wire’s a mess. But there is a path through, of sorts.

Rushworth! Let him look.

Straight ahead, to the left, past the dead horses.

There’s a gap directly behind them.

Useful, because if it’s dark you follow the stench.

When you get to the second wire, look out for the bowing chap.

There’s small break just beside him.

The German line is a 150 odd yards after that.

Watch out for the craters. They’re deeper than they look.

You fall in, there’s no getting out. This way.

Wake up, Kilgour. Bloody waste of space.

Any cover, Sir? Anywhere to jump off from?

No, the sap trench was blown to hell weeks ago.

It’s full of bodies anyway. Your best bet is to pop over here.

If you do get shot, try to make it back to the wire.

We won’t come after you, not until it’s dark.

And, if by some fucking miracle you do make it, send up a flare.

Don’t have any, Sir.

Well, get him one, Kilgour! Make yourself useful.

Yes, Sir.

“Through this holy unction may the Lord pardon thee all faults or whatever sins thou hast committed.”

I do hate losing these to the Hun. So, when they start shooting at you, could you be so kind as to throw it back, there’s a good chap.

Cheerio.