innocent.”
“Have you ever had relations with a woman?”
I blushed, not knowing what to say. The fact was, I'd never even kissed a girl.
“Sorry. I'm being cruel. It's just refreshing to meet someone so pure; you're pure as the Canadian snow.” She snorted at her own joke.
“Did you ask me out here just to make a fool of me?”
“No! In fact, we're very much alike, Edward. I grew up on a dairy farm near Cleethorpes. I've milked my share of cows. See?” She showed me her palms. They were callused and muscular, not the dainty hands of a society girl. “Still,” she went on, “I can't imagine what it's like where you come from. So wide open. It must be breath takingly beautiful! Why'd you ever leave?”
“The King asked.”
“Have you met the King?”
“No, of course not.”
Emily nodded, as though she'd proven a point. She certainly had her opinions about things, but the more I looked at her, the more I liked her. She took a drag of her cigaretteand stared out across the misty hills. “I don't feel like I'm doing enough. I should transfer closer to the front; the men there really need help.”
She blew another perfect smoke ring. The ghostly O floated through the air and vanished. She dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. “I'd better go to my station. Thanks for the chat. You take care of that arm, Breaker Bathe.”
“I will.” She disappeared inside the aid post. All the way back to Remount I pictured her lips in the shape of an O. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
9
E very morning I helped work on the newest shipment of horses and every afternoon I returned to number fifty-eight. Soon I knew exactly how he thought, what he feared, and what to whisper to calm him down. He'd even nuzzle against me, like Caesar did at the farm. Dad would surely be proud if he could see me now. I wanted to name the horse, but he'd just be renamed by the yeomanry.
My arm gradually healed, though I wished for another injury, maybe even one requiring stitches, so I'd have an excuse to see Emily
In the evenings the breakers played cards at the mess, arm wrestled in the barracks, or headed into Gnmsby to the pubs. I preferred to be alone. I'd walk out into the fields; I missed working on our farm. I wrote a short letter to Dad, telling him where I was and not much more. I didn't expect a reply.
Often I'd pass by the regimental aid post, staring, willingEmily to step out. I dreamed my way through hundreds of chats with her, in which I was witty and she laughed and looked longingly at me, but I couldn't find the courage to walk in and ask to see her.
On December 15 I went alone to a Gnmsby pub and bought a stew pie, the closest thing I could find to a roast beef dinner. I finished with a slice of carrot cake layered with white icing, the kind of cake Mom would make for birthdays, hiding pennies inside. Hector and I would fight over who got the first piece.
The icing at the pub tasted like butter. At first I was going to complain, but it dawned on me that sugar was rationed. Besides, why complain? It was a special day. I'd just turned seventeen.
A few days after that the post corporal arrived as I was leaving for the stables. “Bathe, this has been waiting for you.” He tossed a letter to me. “Check your mail at least once a week. It's not my duty to hand deliver it.”
I flipped the envelope over. It was from someone named Paul Oster, postmarked from France. Paul! News of the Bull Moose Boys. And it had taken only two days to get to me.
Dec. 16,1917
Dear Edward
,
Well, we're here because we're here because we're here! We shipped out on the 8th. We didn't even have time to say good-bye to the other chaps. In the blink of an eye they stuck us on a transport and sent us toFrance. I guess they decided we were trained well enough, or that we would learn as we go
.
We joined the 46th. It has a very inspiring nickname: the Suicide Battalion. Doesn't that just warm your heart? Anyway, there's
“Have you ever had relations with a woman?”
I blushed, not knowing what to say. The fact was, I'd never even kissed a girl.
“Sorry. I'm being cruel. It's just refreshing to meet someone so pure; you're pure as the Canadian snow.” She snorted at her own joke.
“Did you ask me out here just to make a fool of me?”
“No! In fact, we're very much alike, Edward. I grew up on a dairy farm near Cleethorpes. I've milked my share of cows. See?” She showed me her palms. They were callused and muscular, not the dainty hands of a society girl. “Still,” she went on, “I can't imagine what it's like where you come from. So wide open. It must be breath takingly beautiful! Why'd you ever leave?”
“The King asked.”
“Have you met the King?”
“No, of course not.”
Emily nodded, as though she'd proven a point. She certainly had her opinions about things, but the more I looked at her, the more I liked her. She took a drag of her cigaretteand stared out across the misty hills. “I don't feel like I'm doing enough. I should transfer closer to the front; the men there really need help.”
She blew another perfect smoke ring. The ghostly O floated through the air and vanished. She dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. “I'd better go to my station. Thanks for the chat. You take care of that arm, Breaker Bathe.”
“I will.” She disappeared inside the aid post. All the way back to Remount I pictured her lips in the shape of an O. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
9
E very morning I helped work on the newest shipment of horses and every afternoon I returned to number fifty-eight. Soon I knew exactly how he thought, what he feared, and what to whisper to calm him down. He'd even nuzzle against me, like Caesar did at the farm. Dad would surely be proud if he could see me now. I wanted to name the horse, but he'd just be renamed by the yeomanry.
My arm gradually healed, though I wished for another injury, maybe even one requiring stitches, so I'd have an excuse to see Emily
In the evenings the breakers played cards at the mess, arm wrestled in the barracks, or headed into Gnmsby to the pubs. I preferred to be alone. I'd walk out into the fields; I missed working on our farm. I wrote a short letter to Dad, telling him where I was and not much more. I didn't expect a reply.
Often I'd pass by the regimental aid post, staring, willingEmily to step out. I dreamed my way through hundreds of chats with her, in which I was witty and she laughed and looked longingly at me, but I couldn't find the courage to walk in and ask to see her.
On December 15 I went alone to a Gnmsby pub and bought a stew pie, the closest thing I could find to a roast beef dinner. I finished with a slice of carrot cake layered with white icing, the kind of cake Mom would make for birthdays, hiding pennies inside. Hector and I would fight over who got the first piece.
The icing at the pub tasted like butter. At first I was going to complain, but it dawned on me that sugar was rationed. Besides, why complain? It was a special day. I'd just turned seventeen.
A few days after that the post corporal arrived as I was leaving for the stables. “Bathe, this has been waiting for you.” He tossed a letter to me. “Check your mail at least once a week. It's not my duty to hand deliver it.”
I flipped the envelope over. It was from someone named Paul Oster, postmarked from France. Paul! News of the Bull Moose Boys. And it had taken only two days to get to me.
Dec. 16,1917
Dear Edward
,
Well, we're here because we're here because we're here! We shipped out on the 8th. We didn't even have time to say good-bye to the other chaps. In the blink of an eye they stuck us on a transport and sent us toFrance. I guess they decided we were trained well enough, or that we would learn as we go
.
We joined the 46th. It has a very inspiring nickname: the Suicide Battalion. Doesn't that just warm your heart? Anyway, there's
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