*ON HOLD* Cora Crawley had another brother. Her brother married and had a beautiful daughter named Evelyn Levinson. When a mysterious fire burns the Levinson home, 6-year-old Evelyn was the only survivor. Cora takes in her orphaned niece - and this...
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- January 1917 -
A new year...meant nothing. As a matter of fact, Evelyn didn't even know the new year had rolled around until about three days later. Every day was the same: wake up exhausted, gather supplies, patch up the wounded soldiers, take care of the sick soldiers, live vicariously through the letters you receive from home, go to bed exhausted, repeat...days start to run together after so long.
The days got harder when Thomas left for the trenches, Evelyn felt rather lonely. Gaetan and John went back to the trenches as well after being deemed fully healed. At least she had Cynthia for the few minutes they spoke during shift trade.
While it was very echoic, it had been rather quiet lately. No serious wounds or emergency amputations. They mostly saw head colds or the normal cases of pneumonia. It had been quite restful the past few weeks...which worried Evelyn dearly. It was either the Germans were giving up or something big was about to happen - her gut told her the latter.
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While all was quiet at Camp Garand for now, the trenches were beginning to see the first of the furious bloodshed to come...Thomas and Matthew were among them.
Bombs fired off at random around the trench, sending more dirt flying into the air as if that were possible. The sky was tinted green and gray and any potential of a breeze was only filled with grime. The smell of blood and gunpowder wafted through the dirt walls with every grimy breeze, however.
The soldiers kept low below their walls in the midst of the bombs and sporadic gunfire. In one of the bunkers, Matthew ran his hands through his hair in annoyance. He had only just arrived from a tour of another part of the trench to find chaos. "We were supposed to have ten days rest at least.
One of the medical officers with him nodded. "Orders arrived this morning, sir. King's Own was hit bad, so they're out and we're in. They've been shelling the trench since we got here."
Matthew laid his stuffed bunny on a small table by his bed. "Anybody hurt?"
"Rankin's dead and Kent. And Corporal Wright was hit. Thank God the stretcher-bearers were there."
Matthew ducked a bit as the bunker shook a bit from the impact of the bombs, resulting in some dust falling from the rafters. "Let me see what the damage is now."
He grabbed his helmet and checked his chest pocket, ensuring his photo of Evelyn - his good luck charm - was safe in its place. Once he saw the edge peeking out of his pocket, he was ready to go.
Immediately out of the bunker, Matthew stayed as low as he could amidst the flying debris making it near impossible to see. A young soldier shielded his head from the dust. Matthew placed a hand on his shoulder to check on him.
"All right?"
The soldier nodded. "Morning, sir."
Matthew continued through the trench to assess the extent of the chaos, passing soldier after soldier. He rounded a corner just as some bombs went off close to the edge of the trench. Matthew stopped next to some medics who were aiding a man. Once the dust settled for a moment, he looked up and recognized one of them.
