For King And Country (not mine)

1941

February 28th 1941 For everything.
The Captain knew what that meant.
Thank you for loving me.
He clenched his jaw to fight the frenzied begging as Havers' grip loosened.
His hand didn't leave, but the strength was gone, and Havers' usually familiar hand felt alien.
The Captain was used to Havers grabbing hold of his hand any opportunity he got, so often that the Captain was sure that he knew the lieutenant's hand better than he knew his own.
But the thing that caught the Captain's attention the most was Havers' eyes.
William Havers died with his brown eyes open, still looking at the Captain as if committing his face to memory one last time.
They were glassy and unseeing, but they were Havers' eyes. And they were on the Captain, his choice for his precious last moment of life.
The Captain went completely numb.
The last thing he remembered was commanding everyone to go inside and seeing Johnson running towards the gates with someone in tow.
When he was next aware of himself, he was storming through the door of his office.
Tyler and Reed were standing either side of the chair where Hughes sat, all of them shifting uncomfortably, finding it hard to remain still.
"Did all of you see what happened?" The Captain asked, closing the door.
"Yes, sir," Tyler answered.
"Why did you two drag Hughes in?"
Tyler and Reed glanced at each other as the Captain walked around to his side of the desk.
Hughes' face was pale, and he was intently staring at one spot on the wood of the Captain's desk.
"Don't test my patience!" The Captain snapped. "My second, one of your fellow officers, has just been killed on base, and I have no idea how it happened. Do you have any idea the severity of the situation?!"
"The training rifles, sir ..." Tyler trailed off.
"What about them?"
"One of them was loaded."
The Captain stopped. That wasn't right. None of the training rifles could be loaded. No one else had access to the ammunition. He hadn't loaded one, and Havers had been packing when everyone was training, he couldn't have done.
"That's not possible." The Captain said. "Only Havers and I know the whereabouts-" "I do, sir," Hughes said quietly.
"And how on earth would you know where the ammunition is stored?"
"I followed Havers," Hughes admitted. "When we were packing away a few weeks ago."
The Captain cast his mind back, trying to think of when Hughes possibly could've found a way to follow Havers.
And then he remembered. He'd caught Hughes handling the rifles like he was going to take them back to the house himself.
The Captain had told him to hand the guns over, and he'd thought the silence was heavy as everyone left. But he'd not suspected anything. He'd not considered that any of his officers would even think about sneaking around in such a manner.
"Tyler, Reed, I want one of you to go downstairs and inform the local doctor of everything you saw. The other needs to prepare a communique to send to London. I'll send it off later. Dismissed." Tyler and Reed, thankfully, left without any hesitation, the door clicking softly behind them.
"Tell me everything, Hughes." The Captain said. He took a piece of paper from his desk and reached for a pen. "And don't spare on the details."
"I thought that Havers was hiding something, sir," Hughes said. "He wasn't telling anyone about where he'd served before the war. And he's been different."
"Different? In what way?"
"It's hard to explain, sir. After New Year, he didn't have the same spring in his step. He became snappy and restless whenever someone brought asked where he'd served before. He was defensive when we asked if he was okay. I - I thought that maybe he was hiding that he had military experience in another country."
The Captain looked up from the paper. "You suspected him of being a spy?"
Hughes nodded. "I followed him to where the guns are stored. I know you two have to do inventory checks to make sure nothing of importance goes missing. I know the ammunition is under a loose floorboard not far from the storage cupboard for the guns." "And why would you immediately think to find out where the ammunition was?" "Well ... I thought it'd come in handy just in case, sir," Hughes said.
"Just in case what?"
"Of an emergency. Havers might've turned on any of us. He might've tried to kill you."
"So you stole some of the ammunition?"
Hughes nodded. "Only when I found out that Havers was leaving. I thought maybe he was being recalled, that he'd been tasked with disposing of some of us. It was self-defence."
"Perceived self-defence, Private." The Captain corrected. "Lieutenant Havers posed no danger to us. He hid nothing. He didn't turn on any of us."
"But he was hiding something, sir," Hughes said. "I went into his room-"
"This is starting to sound like a confession." The Captain interrupted. "These are all offences that could get you dishonourably discharged. I am rather considering leaving you out to dry instead of vouching for you when I report this."
"I did them for the right reasons, sir," Hughes said with pride. "I wanted to check his room in case there was any proof in there. And I found something. Something you should've noticed if you don't mind my saying."
"And what was it that you found?" The Captain asked as he continued writing everything that Hughes was saying.
"A letter," Hughes said. "Addressed to someone who he calls 'Teddy'."
The Captain looked up, schooling his features into an unreadable mask. He stopped writing.
"What does this have to do with anything?"
"I think Havers was a homosexual, sir," Hughes told him. "If he's been hiding that, he can hide anything."
The Captain was quiet for a few seconds, mulling over what would be the appropriate reaction.
Talking to Hughes was becoming a game of chance and risk, and he was far too close to being discovered.
If Hughes found out that he was Teddy, then he could report the Captain. Havers was beyond the courts now.
Though the Captain could feel the grief barely quarantined just beside his heart, ready to rush him as soon as he was alone, he was glad that Havers was safe now.
He couldn't be hurt abroad, and he had been surrounded by a few of those who cared for him at home. He was beyond prosecution for something he couldn't control, his only crime ever being in love.
The Captain was still in danger, and he knew he needed to be careful.
"Do you still have this letter?" The Captain asked.
Hughes shook his head. "I left it where it was. Havers stopped just before the gate and was reaching for something in a pocket. That's why his coat fell open. I - I didn't know, Captain. I thought he was reaching for a gun. I thought he was going to take out as many of us as he could while we were caught off guard, but perhaps he was reaching for the letter. Perhaps there was someone else here at the house he intended to give the letter to."
The Captain finished writing and leant back in his chair. He took a few breaths, trying valiantly to curb his anger and his frustration and grief and longing, everything that came with hiding all of his life.
The best thing to do now was to direct Hughes away from the contents of the letter.
"You planned this."
A statement. There was no question about it. The Captain had no doubts in his mind that it was a well thought out and well-executed plan.
"I was trying-"
"It doesn't matter what you were trying to do." The Captain interrupted. "You should have come to me when you first had these suspicions. Pack your bags. You won't be here much longer." "Captain-"
" When I give you an order, you will follow it, Private!" The Captain yelled.
The sudden burst of anger came from a dark part of the Captain that wanted to wreak havoc on the world for letting Havers die.
Hughes flinched, the shock of seeing his superior so angry evident on his face.
He stood and walked out a moment later, leaving the Captain alone.
So frightfully alone.
This house had become a home of sorts since it had been converted into a base, and now it had never felt more strange.
There were footsteps downstairs. Lots of footsteps as the other officers traipsed through the house trying to process what had happened.
There would be no laughter tonight.
There would be no meal around the dinner table, games of cards in the old banquet hall, perhaps a few bottles of shandy passed around before bed.
Tonight would be a night of grieving. In years to come, this would be the night that they all remembered. This was when it all changed.
Without Havers, things could not be the same.
If he had left alive, then his absence would've only been bittersweet. Now it left a sour taste in all of their mouths. They had all watched the life drain out of their friend. There was no coming back from that.
The Captain had seen many men, good men, die before. In times of conflict, it was the way things worked.
But there was nothing quite like the aching cavern in his chest that stole his breath when he remembered those final few seconds.
The Captain looked around him, saw the memories like ghosts, figures of his imagination haunting him.
Stolen kisses, hushed laughter and millions of conversations held within this room. The floorboards and walls were weighted down so much with memories that the Captain wasn't sure how it hadn't collapsed around him.
He picked up one of the glasses on his desk. One of them had always been left for Havers when they decided to have a drink in the evenings.
He inspected the glass, feeling all the unwanted feelings rise, and despised the way his eyes filled with tears.
Without a moment's hesitation, the Captain threw the glass down on the floor with all of his strength, using the noise to muffle a sob.
He allowed himself a few seconds to fall apart, fragmented at every angle much like the glass at his feet.
And when those few seconds were up, he took his first shuddering breath, felt the sting in his lungs, and began to shove it all away again.
~
March 1941
In the month of March, the Captain buried many things.
Himself in his work.
His faith in his officers.
His hope that he would find some peace in this life.
Hughes was sent off within days of The Event. Shipped back to London. The Captain had received a strongly worded telegram warning him that he should know better than to allow something like this happen.
The limpet mine was the last thing to be buried.
In the dead of night, the Captain went down to the garden, to the spot he'd chosen only a few weeks previously.
He spent some time quietly digging, and when he was sure that it was deep enough, he carefully deposited the mine into the hole.
This should've been a two-man job.
But there is only one of you now.
The Captain stared at the hole for some time, smoking his pipe and wondering if this was the end.
He took an envelope from its haven in front of his heart, staring at his familiar handwriting.
He'd already burned the blueprints, knowing exactly where they were kept.
All that was left to remember Havers was this.
The Captain put his pipe in his mouth. He didn't want to be rid of it yet. He wanted to hold on to Havers for a little while longer.
He tucked the letter away again and began to refill the hole.
~
April 1941
It was mid-April by the time the Captain found out much more about Hughes. And even then, he'd had to enquire religiously on behalf of the other officers.
He knew they were desperate to find out whether Havers had gotten justice.
When the communique came, the Captain read it to the rest of the unit.
"To whom it may concern,
Private Alexander Hughes has been dishonourably discharged from His Majesty's Armed Forces.
He will face prosecution within due time."
Short and to the point, exactly what the Captain expected.
Britain's infamous 'April showers' made his glum mood even more morose.
The files began to stack up, and the days had been blurring since February. The Captain's deadlines were coming up, and he was faced with the impending sense of doom.
Always running out of time. It felt like the only constant thought anymore.
The Captain retired upstairs early, as he often did.
This time, however, he knew something had to change.
He collected some paper and a pen from his office and wrote a letter, ready to be sent off in the morning.
With any luck - and a brother still serving abroad that could lend him a recommendation - the
Captain would be complete Havers' wish to get involved in the fighting for him.