The Dawn Patrol

[melusine]

Mary Montrose

Christmas in Belgium. Annie has laughingly christened our cubicle in the long attic where the Voluntaries sleep "the Ice Palace" and it lives up to its description. Both of us have chillblains and chapped lips and perpetually running noses.

"With the compliments of the Season," she says and hands me a small parcel wrapped in very wrinkly brown paper. I dart her a look of surprise and she blushes. "It's nothing special, Mary. You've seen me working on it for ages, but I thought I'd tie it up like a proper Christmas present...in memory of happier days."

I am more touched than I can say, and unwrap the limp paper slowly, careful not to tear it. Inside is a gloriously red knitted scarf.

"Red is your colour, Mary. Did you know that? After the War you ought to have your dressmaker outfit you with nothing but crimson and scarlet."

I hardly trust my voice. Acts of kindness always have this effect on me. I know there are tears welling up in my eyes.

"Here, you silly goose. Let me put it on you. You've been snuffling and sniffling for ages."

It is as hard for Annie to accept my emotion as it is for me to keep from displaying it. She brusquely winds the scarf around my neck as I weep. In the end, I give myself a case of hiccoughs that makes us both start to laugh.

"But I don't have anything for you!" I say finally, and the hugeness of my thoughtlessness weighs on my heart like a stone.

"Every day you have had something for me, Mary. Every day since we have been friends."

Another storm of weeping overtakes me, and this time Annie joins in. Of course, she can be sentimental for only a minute. Pretending to be cross, she says (between sniffs) "I had to make you my friend, of course. You're far too pretty to have as an enemy. All the lads notice you, Mary, whether you see it or not."

"I've just got a regular English face...and freckles," I hiccough.

"And huge dark melting eyes like one of those Burne-Jones damosels." She pauses for a moment. When she speaks again, her voice is very soft. "I have sometimes thought that Cyril would end up with you, Mary, and not me at all."



"Miss? Are you all right?"

The voice of the Major brings me back to my senses instantly, and blush to the tips of my ears.

"Yes, Major. Quite all right." To hide my face I turn round to get the suture kit. Thankfully, he won't need more than two or three stitches. Still, I shall have to be quick about it.

"This won't be pleasant, but I promise I'll do my best not to make it any worse than it has to be," I say, the needle poised in my hand. With a task to accomplish, I feel in control again. The ghosts are banished to some far corner of my mind.

"You left me for a moment," the Major says suddenly.

"I beg your pardon?" Looking at him very hard.

"I could see it in your eyes. You were remembering something."

I am so embarrassed that I wish I could drop down through the floor. No doubt he is thinking of all the miserable stories told about the Voluntaries. How we are nothing but amateurs; nothing but frivolous girls.

"Look, it's nothing to be ashamed of," he says quickly. "You Voluntaries are doing a hell of a job. And with a professionalism and grace that does your country proud."

I know my mouth must be hanging open. After his stony silence, this sudden outpouring of human sympathy is almost more than I can bear. In spite of myself I can feel my eyes filling with water. Oh, no, not this! For God's sake, I have work to do! I tell myself furiously.

But it is no use. The needle falls from my hand and I have to turn my face to the wall, my whole body wracked with long, shuddering sobs. God only knows what the Major thinks.

 

[Thor's Hammer]

Major Thor

Her sudden outburst of tears confused me. She had been so cool and professional, and then she suddenly turned away and her body shook with sobbing. 'Did I say something wrong?' I searched my memory, but could find nothing.

I stood up from the chair, bent and retrieved the needle she had dropped, and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. "Please, miss, please don't cry. Tell me what is troubling you." As I spoke, I placed the needle on a table and continued to pat her on her back. I never had understood women, and this was no exception.

 

[melusine]

Mary Montrose

Of course, at the first sign of kindness from the poor Major, my sobbing takes a turn for the worse. How long have I been keeping the twisting mass of assorted griefs bottled up inside me? So, as a stranger with a bleeding forehead staunchly pats me on the back, I shake, and sniffle, and ultimately hiccough, trying to explain.

"There's a soldier, Major --" I manage to choke out finally. "He ran over a mine in his lorry this afternoon --"

He stops his patting and steps back from me. I can hear him reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief.
"Your young man?" he asks.

"No, his girl is my friend Annie. She thought she would be having a glorious romantic evening with him tonight. She's back at our lodging getting ready -- they planned to be married after the war --"

My words die out and he hands me his handkerchief and I do the best I can to compose myself.

"It's a damned rotten war," he says quietly. It's the quiet that comforts me somehow. As though I need say no more. As though instinctively my grief is understood and accepted. It is the comraderie of the war, of course. One can't help feeling it. But coming from this man, this hardened, quiet man, it steadies me.

"I'm so sorry, Major. I don't usually go to pieces like this. Let me get a fresh needle and stitch you up so you can go."

He doesn't say anything more, and I hurry down the hall with a sense of relief. The only possible way to get through this is not to give way. The Major was right. It's a damned rotten war. And we have to get through it as best we can, have to each do our bit. There will be time for tears afterwards. Long years. An eternity. But for today we just have to put one foot in front of the next.

When I return, I am calm, if embarrassed. The Major looks as though he never saw me break down at all. He sits staring straight in front of himself again, and does not so much as flinch when the needle pierces his skin. I am more grateful to him than I can say. If he had tried to say something comforting, I would certainly have started to cry again. And any minute they will be calling me from the operating theatre, to attend Cyril on his way to the ward. The worst part of the ordeal is to come.

"There shouldn't be much of a scar," I say softly, and step back from my handiwork at last.

He reaches up to touch his hat in farewell and smiles wryly when he realizes he isn't wearing one.

There's no sign of anyone needing me yet, so I walk with him back down the hall, pausing when we reach the door. It's strange, walking beside a man again. Matching my stride to his. Feeling the unaccustomed warmth of a body so close that it almost touches mine. Outside, the fresh, sweet night air reminds me of Annie. My heart sinks, thinking of her craning her head out the window of our room, her hair freshly crimped, and my cameo in her collar. Waiting for Cyril...who will never come.

Stop it, Mary. Be strong. There will be time enough for tears later. But not now. And certainly not in front of this pilot. Yours are not the only griefs in this war. He almost certainly has plenty of his own.

A little timidly, I hold out my hand to him in farewell.

"Major Thor...I wanted to say how sorry I am for -- for losing my grip back there. It was inexcusable. When you come back to have the stitches out, I'll make sure you have someone else to attend to you."

I have to say that. He's been so kind and I have been such a noodle. But I hope I will see him again.

"Please...be careful. God bless you, Major Thor."

 

[Claymore]

Colin MacPherson

I had just been suiting up for the next patrol when the sound of our AA opening up stopped me in my tracks. Grapping my mask and googles, I rush out the door to see what's going on. I watch, horror struck, as a pair of the Hun's C11's attack. Pulling on the last little bit of my flight suit, I make may way to my plane as quickly as I possibly can. But it's too late to prevent them from doing any damage to the squadron. Tom and Major Stewart's planes are rocked with fire from the enemy, making it immpossible for them to retaliate.

By the time I reach my Camel, the two are already pulling away from the aerodrome. Tom's plane is even more damaged than I imagined as it catches fire. Since our planes were fueled at the time of the attack, I guess the tank must have been hit and started leaking. A spark caused by one of the gunners fireing at the plane must have caught in the puddle forming underneath.

But this doesn't matter. I'm quickly fitted into my seat and Miles and I get her started. There is no waiting now. I'm first to my plane, everyone else in the squadron who can fly is just now getting seated and belted in.

With a roar the Camel thunders down the runway and pulls into the air. The bastards have a head start, I just hope I'm going to be fast enough to catch up. But wait, their slowing down. Our AA must have struck home on at least one of them, though it failed to blast them from the sky. Well now, maybe the Hun won't get away with this after all. Still, I need to be careful. The odds are in their favor, and they have gunners. Coming up behind them isn't going to be a good idea.

 

[ariosto]

Shaking the memories of warm flesh and lace from his mind, Brenner scanned the mackeral clouded sky in all directions.
His flight looked like fat black bees dancing in his wake. He glanced at his new wingman Loftin and shook his head. The boy would not last, for several reasons one of which was that Gerd Brenners wingmen never lasted.

The country below was a wretched wasteland of scars and smoke.
The sacrs of three years of trenches moving forward, falling back. Criss crossing each other. The smoke was from the morning artillery barrages each side endulged in and the black oily smoke of a shattered Rumpler observation plane down below.


They were now on their patrol lines, 90 km southeast, turn, 90km northwest then back to the aerodrome.
Von Betz flight was 1000 meters below and slighty in advance.
Schuller was echeloned left behind his own flight of four.
1200 meters below lumbered the CIIs trying to accomplish what the Rumpler had failed to do at dawn.
They were also the decoys.

Gerds head turned constantly, watching the clearing sky, aware always of the suns position. Thirty minutes went by, then forty, they were nearing their turn around and Brenners thoughts kept returning to Colette....to the feel of her heavy breasts in his hands. The taste of her in his....
The flash of tracer bullets brought him back to the present with a flash.
It was Schuller!
The man had closed his Dv up on brenner and was pointing
down below and to the West.
There rising rapidly to meet his jasta, the morning sun gleaming on their wings came a score of allied fighters.

Gerd signalled his pilots to clear their guns and followed by the entire schwarm rolled right to meet the enemy.

 

[curi]

OOC: domnt worry ladies, we'll be on the ground soon

the engine would ocasionly stutter and fade, but pick up at the last moments, but it was not totaly Kaput. Khole in his C11 was having trouble keeping to my speed. occasionly he would pull to far out infront and have to do a small turn round.

this guy will go far, he has the nerve to keep with his wingman, and the inteligence to manover round to match his speed. its pointless we both crashing out.

Arvid the flagged Khole down as he came round again, and gave the signal to return to base, one of them should carry word of their mission resualts to base.

Khole's aircraft did a slow roll, as a goodbye, and started to pull ahead, now Arvid felt Realy naked, with no wingman, and still deep in enemy terrotory... things where looking bleak.

 

[Claymore]

Colin MacPherson

I quickly overtake the two slow moving C-11's, but to my great disappointment, one of them begins to pull away. Obviously only one suffered some damage. That'll make things a bit easier, but it denies me the chance to maybe get them both. No matter.

Coming up behind and beneath the Hun, I'm shocked that he doesn't seem to see me. However, I quickly decide that this is to my advantage. Lineing up my sights with the front of his plane, I reach for the trigger, inteding to blow him from the sky. But my shells hit his right wing instead as he begins to bank left.

Did he see me? Or was he being parinoid, trying to make it difficult for any potential attackers to get him? Doesn't matter now. Now he knows I'm here. Now things are going to get intresting.

 

[curi]

HIFFE!!!!

Hanz taped Arvid on the shoulder, turning Arvid looked at Hanz, wiht a questioning frown on his face, Hanz then pointed backwards, where Arvid saw a tommy fighter periosly close.

without thinking Arvid threw his plane into a hard left spiral, as the tommy fired, his bullets chewed up the wing on Arvids plane, punching a holes into the fabric, but luckily avoiding his control wires or wing struts.

Arvid spirealed down Hanz turned the gun mount on to the tommy and started banging away. Arvid heard the wing groan, but ignored it, hopping that his sudden plumiting spiral round with Hanz blazing away, would confuse the tommy, giving him enougth time to either get clear or hit him with his nose gun. if he was realy lucky the tommy might think he had scored a kill and back off.

either way, it was the only way out of the Tommy's gunsights.

as he hurtled past the tommy at less than 50ft, Arvid saw a few rounds strike home on the still climing Cammel, as he got below (or behind, due to the angle) the plane, Arvid pulled up, and banked sharply, he heared the wing groan, he new the damage earlier had weakened it, and new it would be warping, but he prayed it would hold.

now he was rougthly behind the Cammel, pointing in more or less the right direction, just needed a few more seconds and he would be able to give the Cammel a bit of his own back...

 

[Claymore]

Colin Macpherson

I watch as the Hun manuvers his plane until he's in behind me. I would be so easy to let him think he has a chance, but no, best not take the chance.

I begin a turn to the left, slow and ponderous. I feel my plane shudder a few shells from his nose gun just barely hit home in the rear of the fuselage.

"Damn it Colin, you let the devil get his chance before you began manuvering," I scold myself. Then without thinking I carry out the other part of my manuver, a sharp climbing right turn. This shocks the Hun, and his gunner. But both quickly recover, with the pilot trying to follow me as his gunner begins bringing the gun around.

But it's too late to bring it around. Already I'm changing from a climbing right to a shallow right turn dive. Lining up with the rear of his plane, I open up with both Vickers, tearing into the rear fuselage and stiching shots through the gunners postion as well.

It's fairly obvious I didn't kill the gunner, but he's badly wounded and not using the blasted gun.

Quickly I roll left then right, slowing until I can get behind him. Unfourtunately, when I fire again, I once more hit his wings, this time on the opposite side of the cockpit. Worse still is the damage he inflicted me and my own manuvers have started to affect my ability to manuver. Whether I want to or not, I'm going to have to start thinking about letting this bloody bastard go.

 

[SexyChele]

Nanette

As I begin to sweep up the tavern floor, picking up the remains from the night before, I hear the planes once more over head. But this is different. Something is not right.

Rushing out of the door of the tavern, I hear a blast in the distance, the likes I've not heard before. Instinctively ducking back into the tavern, I frantically look around. What to do? Where to go? Has the war moved here?

Pierre yells something from the kitchen, but I do not have the wits to hear him. Suddenly a dark shadow crosses the threshold of the tavern, and my breath catches in my throat. And enemy soldier? A pilot injured? No - I notice the skirt, and then the frightened expression on Simone's face. Her shallow breathing matches my own, as I run to pull her into to the tavern. Not knowing what to do, we find ourselves huddled on the floor, our arms around each other, waiting for we can only imagine what.

 

[curi]

SUPRISE!

Gott im Himmel! this englander was good!

Hanz was down in his cockpit, Arvid couldnt see wether he was dead or wounded, after his steap dive the Cammel was pulling away, but starting to turn. Arvid threw his plane into a tight left turn as The Tommy brought his round.

Ahhh a game of chicken, or head to head.... well desperate circumstances need desperate manovers....

Arvid new he was in trouble here, the twin MG's on the front of the cammel would chew hm to peices, while his single Spandu might get lucky.

Arvid flew stright towards the Tommy, the englander started firing at extreme range, but the bullets where coming nowhere close. then Arvid pulled his manover, letting his plane slow he pulled his nose up, and staryted to do a tail slide, the cammel flashed aross his nose and he put a burts into its underside. as he was fireing Arvid was already pileing on the power, and trying to climb so he was behind the Cammel, his chances of sucses where low, his plane was to old and slow but he had to try.

 

[Thor's Hammer]

Major Thor

I rode slowly.........I had missed the dawn patrol, and my able exec would lead well, I was sure. Besides, a single ship - alone - was not a way to be guaranteed to see the next dawn. My thoughs strayed to the VAD.....a young, yet very old soul...... I hoped I would see her again.....

I puttered down the road, the tavern was just ahead. Suddenly, there was a blast! Close, but I could not decide what it was. Artillery, a crash, ammo dump exploding???????

I whipped the cycle up behind the tavern, checked that my sidearm was secure, and walked into the tavern through the back door. If it was artillery, at least the walls would provide some protection from shrapnel.

 

[SexyChele]

Nanette

I hear the backdoor of the tavern slam open, and fear grips my heart. I wait to hear Pierre's voice, but it doesn't come. Fool must have taken off to the basement, without any thought to anyone else in the tavern!

Looking back across the room towards the door that leads to the back, I hold my breath. Surely we have been invaded? A figure suddenly opens the door and is standing in the shadows. A plane flies low overhead, and a slight scream escapes my lips.

"Eh! Who's there!" the voice demands.

I take a deep breath at the American accent, and slowly bring myself to my feet.

"H-h-hello, monsieur. It is I, Nanette. Are we under attack?"

The figure crosses the room to where I stand, and Simone still huddles on the floor. As he gets closer, I see it is the one called Thor - an officer and one of the Americans best pilots. He has been here before, and I recognize him as being one of the nicer ones.

 

[ariosto]

Brenner maneuvered his squadron into the sun keeping a constant eye on the action below.
Schuller gestured wildly down at the hapless CIIs but he shook his head no. He had to get into position, no helter skelter...he would come in high and out of the sun. The tommies would not know waht hit them.
Far below observers saw the score of german machines sweeping high and to sunward of the vicious dog fight which now had nearly reached the ground. The old Roland's were fighting desperately as the camels closed in for the kill.

NOW! Brenner gave the signal and the jasta plumetted towards the twisting specks far below.

The Dv's with their weak wings were left behind but the Fokkers fell like avenging angels and in a split second two of the camels were tumbling from the sky in flames.
He lined up on a third and gave him a dose from less than 50 yards. The tommie erupted in a ball of fire and Brenner kicked the rudder pedals hard left, jerking back and to the right on the stick choking the throttle to a dangerous level, he narrowly avoided a deadly stall at this low altitude and started a tight climbing spiral to gain altitude.

Kill number 66...he never thought of his wingman who was plowing into a farmers field at 180 kmph a thousand feet below.

 

[Thor's Hammer]

Major Thor

"Hello Nanette. I was riding by and heard the explosion. I don't know what caused it, but we had best stay inside for awhile."

With that, I moved out of the shadow and into the tavern proper. Nanette was a pretty French girl, very friendly...although we had never talked much. I glanced in the corner, and saw someone else huddled on the floor........

 

[Claymore]

Colin MacPherson.

I feel my Camel shudder as I'm hit yet again by the C11. This guys good. Nice manuever. But it's not going to be enough. Both Our planes are damaged, but mine seems to be the less damaged of the two. And it's much newer.

Pulling a a fairly loose arc, I bring my Camel around so that I can get a chance at him. Unfourtunately I failed to realize how badly damaged his plane is as I end up far in front of him. Tightening my turn, I bring the plane around for a head to head pass.

Already he's firing on me, forcing me to have to weave in order to keep from being hit. But it's not enough. His shells tear into my wings and the rear of my fuselage. I can feel the effects it's having and realize that I won't be able to keep fighting much longer after this. Probably I'll be forced to land my plane if I want to survive. Yet I can't let him get away.

A slight adjustment nearly at the last minute gives me a shot at his engine. Not wasting time to think, I take it, pouring shells into it. I have the brief joy of seeing his plane begin to nose down. Looks like thats one less Hun to deal with.

But now there are more problems. The C11s have lead a squadron of DVs to the aerodrome. Our Camels and the American SPADs are giving them hell. But even so, I'm not sure if I dare try to land now. The DVs could pounce while I'm on the ground. Yet with the damage I suffered, I stand little chance of surviving another dogfight with the Hun.

Deciding that it would be best to get out of the air, I make a steep, seemingly uncontroled dive for the ground. Hopefully it will look like I've suffered to much damage and have lost control. But at the last possible minute, I pull out of my dive, just in time to land the plane. I barely have enough time to get out of my plane and make a mad dash away from it before a DV is loading it full of shells. The bastard gets his, though, as a SPAD blows him out of the sky.

 

[SuthrnKit10]

Simone

I almost made it to the door. There were only a few more steps to go when the blast came from behind me. Frozen, I didn't move until I heard the popping. At least, it sounded like popping, like when we were younger and used to throw stones at the backside of the barn. When I realized it was coming from the planes above, which were now dangerously low, my pulse skidded and lurched in panic. Gunfire!!

Rushing into the tavern, Nanette and I huddle together on the floor. She is frightened, I can tell by the paleness of her cheeks and her quick breathing, but she talks softly to me anyway, assuring me it will be alright. When the backdoor to the tavern slams open, I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing it is the Germans and we will surely die.


I feel Nanette start to rise, and I try desperately to grasp her hand and pull her to safety, but she is up and past me in a moment. She asks if we are under attack, and a man's voice answers her.

A man's voice, but with an American, not German accent.

As Nanette continues to speak softly, and the man comes further into the tavern, I can see he is not a threat. His uniform is much more decorated that the men I served last night, and I realize he must be a very important officer. He carries a gun ... surely he has come to keep us safe from harm! I slowly stand and come to stand behind Nanette, a shy smile of welcome on my lips.

 

[curi]

schisse!

AGHHHH!

the tommy's bullets whip around me, i can feel a couple puncture my leg, hopefuly the heavy flight suit might have helped me. i see the wing on my plane has taken too much damage, even as i watch the wing struts fold and break, i need to land NOW!

pushing my nose down towards the ground i begin a dive, i start to get near the ground, and i level out.

there! a feild, with a copse of tree's at the end, not much room, but hopefuly it will be enougth.

i get her level, and nearly on the ground. I chop the power and we just drop out of the sky. looks like we where going to make it until my front right wheel hits a hole, we start to cartwheel, and the world becomes a blur, with the ground and sky exchanging places at a rate of knots. then all is calm...

it takes me a few moments to collect my wits, im lucky, no fire. my plane is in the copse of tree's hopfuly they should hide it. unsnaping my harness, i roll out as i do so i check on Hanz, my loyal gunner is very dead with a bullet hole in his head and a tree branch through his chest.

looking around see a farmhouse off about a mile away. useing branches and parts of my plane i make a basic splint for my holed leg. i find a wing spar and its about the right size for a crutch.

my last action before leaving my plane is to check my side arm, a Mauser C9 (OOC: "Broomhandle" Mauser), yes, yes, i know its a bit of a hand cannon, but i remeber the old days of the air war. where we had to shoot at each other with pistols...

its a faily painful mile to the farm house, bloody rabit holes. luckly i dont remeber much of it.

as i aproach the Farm house i begin to use some caution keeping tree's between me and the house. however my caution is wasted the occupent is out. i limp over to the rear door, and its not locked, i creep in, my first time as burgular! i start to take a loaf of bread of the table, but think better of it, so i put it back on the sideboard.

i hobble out to the barn, i find a stack of hay and totaly exausted i fall asleep..

 

[SexyChele]

Nanette

Just knowing the American officer is there brings much comfort. My breathing returns to normal as I smile up at the handsome American.

I see his attention is diverted behind me, and I feel a soft pull on my skirts as the young farm girl stands from the floor and seemingly is trying to hide behind me. Pulling her slightly forward, my arm about her still trembling shoulders, I look at Thor.

"This is Simone, monsieur. She just started helping out around here."

As I speak, I notice the absence of sounds from above. It would appear peace has returned.

"Monsieur, it sounds as though all is quiet. Could it be that the Germans have left? What should we do?"

 

[Thor's Hammer]

Major Thor

With a couple of quick steps, light for a man of my size I crossed the space between us. I reached for one of Nanette's small hands and then, slowly, so she wass not frightened, for one of Simone's. With what I assumed was a courtly bow I brought first one, then the other to my lips..........brushing the back of each hand. Then with a twinkle in my eyes, I caught each one by the arm and said, "Lets dance."

I began to whirl around in a circle like a dervish.....

 

[curi]

ZZZZzzzzzzz

huh?? where am i??...

then it all comes back to me, injured on the wrong side of the line in the wrong sides of uniform....

maybe i could walk to the nearest border?? cross the front lines?? HAHAHAHA i might as well imagine that that anoying corpral i met the other day will rule Germany one day!

while trying to decide what i am to do next, i hear voices outside.

 

[Claymore]

Colin MacPherson

I watch helplessly as the battle moves away from the aerodrome. Helpless because I'm on the ground without a plane. But I'm not yet out of the fight. At least as far as I'm concerned.

Drawing my pistol, I point it at the sky and open fire. It's a usless attempt and I know it. The planes are to far away for my shots to do any good. But I can't stand here and do nothing.

As the planes move away, I finally notice that I didn't escape my own dogfight uninjured. One of the Hun's shells hit me. Just grazed my leg, but it was enough to open it slightly. With all that was going on, I some how missed it. Heat of battle and all.

"Bloddy hell!" I examine the wound a little closer. Probably could heal on it's own. Doesn't seem to be causing me any problems. Still, probably should get myself to the hospital. Better safe than sorry.

Already the ambulance is starting to take men away. I quickly make my way over to it and climb in. To my great surprise, I find Captain Rosethall inside. He's bandaged, but it seems to be just barely keeping him from bleeding.

"Captain?"

"Fine meeting you here, Colin," he says. It's obvious that he's in a lot of pain.

"What happened?"

"Bloody Hun was better than me. He and his wingman got on Ian and he turned him into a fireball. I managed to get on his tail after his wingman plowed into the ground, but not for long. He got rid of me then shot me up. I was just lucky enough that he didn't flame me, but I crashed in a field near the aerodrome."

"Bloody hell."

"Yeah." It was the last thing he said for the rest of the trip, though he did keep groaning each time we hit a bump. I could feel myself go cold as I listened to his groans, weaker than his normal voice. His breath became slightly ragged as we finally reached the hospital, though it was obvious he wasn't giving up just yet. The ordealies brushed me aside as they rushed him and the other more seriously wounded inside, leaving me to make my way in on my own.

Knowing that there were others worse than me who would take precedence, I found some water and a was cloth and cleaned my wound as best as I could. Then I grabbed a nearby bandage and loosely wrapped the wound before taking a seat to wait my turn.

 

[melusine]

Mary Montrose

"I have sometimes thought that Cyril would end up with you, Mary, and not me at all."

As I pull the blanket up over Cyril's shattered face, Annie's words fill my brain. She was right. At the end, it was me standing vigil over her true love's corpse. And she, back in our room, with her best dress on and the fresh flowers in her hair already wilting, did she know somehow that her happiness had just been claimed by the war?

Maybe because of the tears I had shed earlier, when the American Major was here, I did not break down. I could not. I sent a village boy with a message for Annie, to tell her that Cyril was dead. I did what I could to make his poor, mutilated body presentable for her. And I waited for her, wishing that it had been anyone but me with Cyril at the end.

"Montrose! There's an ambulance of wounded. Come make yourself useful." It's Matron, bustling past with several other Voluntaries trotting along behind. I touch Cyril's shoulder, beneath the blanket, one last time, and then turn from the table, my hands in the pocket of my apron.

As we move down the corridor, I can see the square of darkness disclosed by the abbey's open door, and the lights of lanterns beyond. A pilot is being unloaded onto a stretcher, groaning softly from between clenched jaws.

"Take Captain Rosethall in to Dr. Norris straightaway," the Matron says after looking at him. "He's losing a lot of blood."

"My men --" the Captain says weakly, turning his eyes towards the others in the ambulance.

"They'll be taken care of, Sir."

Matron lifts her head and beckons to me. "Sort out this lot, Mary. Worst cases to Sister Blount. You know the drill."

And so I did.

In the half hour that followed, I was thankful for the work that kept my mind busy. From the talking amongst the soldiers I learned the details of the dogfight over the village. Brave lads. Even as I looked at their gaping wounds and felt their foreheads, I could not help the surge of pride that welled up in my heart. I moved down the line slowly, sorting the worst cases from those that could wait. Those who could gave their names, and a second Voluntary at my elbow wrote them down.

"Colin MacPherson, Miss," a pilot said quietly, and I pulled my hand back from his blanket almost before I knew what I was doing.

"You're from home," I said, without thinking. His accent was that of my part of the country.

Through all of his pain, he smiled and then he winked.

"I think I must be, Miss," he said.

 

[SexyChele]

Nanette

Thor's action completely took my by surprise! Dancing and whirling the two of us around the tavern - becoming breathless at the movements, laughing and smiling.

Even Simone was coming out of her shell, laughing and giggling as well. And I was struck at the young girl's beauty.

Suddenly Thor stopped, giving all of us a chance to breathe and laugh and giggle with delight. Looking at Simone, I gasped.

"Simone! I'll bet your family is frantic with worry! With that blast and explosion, they will be wondering if you are safe. Perhaps you had best go tell your maman that you are safe, before returning here?"

As Simone realized the fact that her family might be worried, he face became solemn. Before she could leave, I gently took hold of her arms, and kissed her cheek.

"We shall have need of you here tonight, I imagine. So, until then, ma petite!"

I turned back to Thor's dancing eyes, wondering at why I had never noticed the way they penetrated so.

 

[SuthrnKit10]

Discovery

Maman!! Sweet Jesu, but she would be frantic! I gave Nanette a fierce hug and Major Thor a small curtsey before rushing out the door. I made it back to the farmhouse quickly, running most of the way, though my side was aching terribly. Papa would be furious with worry!

Coming through the small break in the hedge along the dirt path to the house, I stopped suddenly. There was black smoke coming from the woods behind the back pasture, and I wondered with a pained heart if a soldier had been shot down. Shaking the thought from my mind, I rushed inside, calling for papa.

There was no one inside.

The house was empty, wash was thrown on the ground behind the house, just a few feet away from the handmade wooden rack Maman used to spread cloth out to dry. Papa was not in the feilds, and another run through the house confirmed that the twins were gone as well. Standing just beyond the house and turning slowly, my eyes alighted on the barn. Surely they were inside, hiding in case of attack! They probably couldn't hear my voice from the cellar beneath.

I ran to the doors and flung them open, calling for Papa as I went.