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My Brother's War

Page 16

by Hill, David


  They struggled up a flight of muddy steps. The rain had gone. Somewhere birds sang. Ahead on the rough road, a line of ambulances waited, red crosses painted on their sides.

  Edmund felt a hand touch his wrist. He glanced down at William. ‘Did you bring my helmet?’ his older brother asked. Edmund laughed and shook his head. William smiled, too. ‘You always forget things.’

  But I won’t forget this day, Edmund knew. Not ever. He and the other bearers placed William’s stretcher down carefully on the ground, while they waited for the ambulances to begin loading. Edmund sat by his brother. His whole body ached; for the first time in hours, he realised how exhausted he was.

  ‘I’ll write to Ma,’ he told William. ‘She’ll be so relieved. Jessie, too.’

  ‘Thanks,’ William murmured. He paused. ‘And could you tell Vi—’

  He fell silent. After a second, Edmund glanced at him. He stared. It was hard to tell under the dried mud and blood that still covered most of his face, but he felt sure his brother was blushing.

  He gazed around, at the mud, the shattered trees, the torn ground of war. He drew in a deep breath. Everything was going to be all right.

  Dearest Ma,

  This is not a letter from one of your sons. This is letter from BOTH of your sons! Yes, William and I are together. Together in the same place, and together because we are friends again.

  We met in the most wonderful way. I have been in the front lines of the battlefield, but I am unhurt and well. I have survived where so many brave men have died.

  I was helping as a stretcher-bearer, carrying wounded troops to the First Aid Station. It was a place I hope I never see again, but I will tell you all I can about it when we meet. Or William will tell you first, which is more likely.

  Anyway, one of the soldiers we were carrying was so ugly that I had to look hard at him to believe he was real. And who could be more ugly than my dear elder brother, William?

  Yes, Ma, he has been wounded, but he will be all right. And he is coming home. The doctors say he mustn’t fight again, and he will sail back to New Zealand as soon as he is well enough. Isn’t that the very best of news?

  A piece of exploding shell must have hit his helmet. I always knew my big brother had a thick head, but I never knew it was that thick! He has a deep gash along one side of his face. It will leave a handsome scar that all the girls will fuss over. Ma, the doctor says that his left eye has been damaged and may not recover all its sight. But he is alive. Alive and young and strong, and he will make his way back to health.

  He sends all his love to you and Jessie. He asks you to tell Mr Parkinson that he’s looking forward to getting his old job back. (Please give my best wishes to Mr Yee when you see him, and say I hope to be back in his garden sometime, also.) Oh, and William wants to send his best wishes to some girl called Violet. Isn’t that interesting?

  I’m sitting by his bed, in a hospital in France, well away from the battlefield. He needs to rest a lot while he gets better. He still finds it hard to hold a pen and write. Anyway, I was always better at spelling than him.

  Dear Ma, you will see William before you see me. I don’t know what my future holds, as long as this terrible war continues. But men have spoken up for me – including some men whom I thought hated me – and I may be sent to work in a hospital for badly wounded soldiers. The officer of William’s platoon, a fine young man called Mr Gowing, is a doctor, and he is going to see what he can do.

  There are many good people in the Army – I’ve learned that. I respect them, just as I respect and still believe my friend Archie. I hope the war ends soon, for the sake of all young men everywhere. (Do you remember saying that, Ma?) All young men, and all their friends, sweethearts and mothers.

  Ma, I have talked so much with William (when he isn’t sleeping – and snoring sometimes, but don’t tell him I said that). He’s told me about the places he’s been, the battle he fought in, the friends he’s made.

  I’ve met some of those friends, when they come to visit. A young soldier called Jerry, very proud of the stripe on his tunic that shows he’s been wounded. An older man called Herbert, who knows my friend Archie! They both belonged to the same church back in New Zealand and they were overjoyed to see each other again.

  I have seen terrible things, dear Ma. I won’t try to hide that. I have seen the evil that people can do – and the good that they can do.

  William and I will never agree on some things. He still believes it is right to fight for your country. I cannot accept that. But he says also that he has come to believe that war should only be a last resort; a country should fight only after it has tried everything else.

  Who would ever have thought that this would happen to us, dear Ma? That two brothers should believe in such different things, go such different ways, yet end up together in the same faraway place. Life is very strange.

  Life is very precious, too. William and I agree that whatever happens to us for the rest of our lives, we will do our very best in the world. We will try to help others, to be true to our friends and generous to our enemies, to leave things a little better than we found them.

  Big words from your small son, dear Ma. William is still asleep. When he wakes, I’ll see if he wants to write a sentence – yes, even though his spelling is so bad. This chair beside his bed is so comfortable that I may sleep for a while, too. May all yours and dear Jessie’s days and nights be happy and restful, ’til the four of us are together once again.

  Your TWO loving sons

  Edmund and William

  Glossary

  CO

  conscientious objector

  CSM

  Company Sergeant Major; an NCO in charge of a company of soldiers, especially in charge of ammunition in combat

  dixie

  a large iron cooking pot

  duckboards

  wooden slats joined together to form a path over muddy ground

  howitzer

  an artillery gun that fired shells in a high arc to destroy enemy defences

  mess tin

  a rectangular metal tin that was part of a soldier’s mess kit (utensils for cooking and eating)

  NCO

  non-commissioned officer, an enlisted soldier who has authority over other soldiers

  Lewis Gun

  a light machine-gun

  Mills Bomb

  a type of hand grenade

  pillbox

  a small concrete fort, partly underground, used as an outpost

  Zeppelin

  a large German airship

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  Published by Puffin Books, 2012

  Copyright © David Hill, 2012

  The right of David Hill to be identified as the author of this work in terms of section 96 of the Copyright Act 1994 is hereby asserted.

  All rights reserved

  On page 79 Archie quotes the first line of an 1807 poem by William Wordsworth, ‘I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud’.

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p; Map by Outline Draughting and Graphics Ltd

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  www.penguin.co.nz

  ISBN: 978-1-74253-265-3

 

 

 


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