The Girl Soldier Of WW1

Chapter One (1914)

War. Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it not wonderful? People die every day so what's the difference now? People are only speeding up the process. It's shoot or be shot out there. Adrenaline always pulsing through your veins. Fear blinding you. Worry blocking your actions. It's not something people want to endure. That's the reason why women are not allowed to sign up. Are not allowed to be recruited unless for a war nurse. The war isn't fair. Life isn't fair.

I sit on my bed whilst I slip on and tie up my high-heeled boots. Eugh, how girls and ladies can go ALL DAY wearing a long dress and boots ALL DAY I don't know, and it's not something I want to do. OK, so I've had to do it for 15 years but it's not ever been so bad as it is now. It only really started getting this bad about three months ago. My mother has been pushing me to be 'lady-like'. Besides, guys have it easy, they're not forced to wear dresses and skirts; they wear trousers and shirts. They're not forced to wear high-heeled boots either; they wear flat-soled boots.

I sigh and heave myself up off of my bed and walk downstairs. I don't run like I would usually, I don't like running in heeled shoes. When I reach the bottom I sigh before heading straight to the kitchen where the smell of eggs and bacon hit me. My parents are already up, Mother is cooking and Father is sat at the table, his feet up and a newspaper held in his hands.

Mother turns to see me and nods at my 'lady-like' appearance before returning to her work. Nothing unusual. Her and I don't get on at all anymore, she's always on my back telling me what to do and how to do it. She didn't use to be like it. However, when Father looks up from his paper a huge grin spreads across his face which I quickly return as I sit next to him. Mother puts a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me and I start to eat.

"Any news on the war yet, Father?" I ask him. Since the war began I have gained quite an obsession with it. Where my obsession came from or what triggered it I don't know.

"Not really, Buttercup," Father answers, frowning slightly as he reads one of the articles in the paper "They've started to call it World War One, or the First World War, or some crap like that."

"What, is the whole world at war then? Even us Brits?" I ask. Mother sighs at my use of the common slang word 'Brits'. Well she can stuff it.

"No," Father says and he sighs as he carries on, "But there's a lot of countries involved. Russia, France, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Serbia; they say a lot more countries are going to get involved. We'll be joining too soon if it carries on. If the Germans attack Belgium we're in. They're saying it won't be too long now anyway, the Germans are slowly edging their war over to the Belgium Borderline so it won't be too long. They're already starting to recruit soldiers now in London, just in case."

"Well, we will join the war anyway won't we?" I ask as I pick at my nails. I hear mother tutting. She's trying to keep from telling me off, well good for her. I swallow another mouthful of eggs before I carry on speaking. "Even if Belgium isn't invaded. I mean, we are part of the Triple Entente and seeing as both of our allies are in the war - Russia and France - we will join anyway, won't we?"

"Well, intentionally yes, Buttercup. But you won't have to worry about that," Father says, "The war is fresh. You think about it. Today's the 3rd of August, the war itself started on the 28th June this year when Duke... Errr, what's-his-face-" Father says, forgetting the name.

"When Duke Francis Ferdinand was assassinated by Gavrilo out of the Black Hand." I remind him and he nods.

"Anyway, I don't think we'll be declaring war anytime soon. Hopefully. But you've got nothing to worry about." Father tells me.

"You won't be able to get in will you? They'll say you're too old and unable, won't they?" I ask worriedly. I don't want my father in the war with the possibility that he could die. He's the only family relation I get on with now.

"Nah, I'm fine," Father reassures me, "I'm nearly 45, they won't let me sign up. And, it's OK, they won't let you sign up either. You're a young lady and even if you weren't the age restriction is 18 and over; you're only 15."

I shrug then. I have nothing better to say or do so I just shrug and then Mother starts her telling off as I knew would come eventually. "Samantha! Ladies do not shrug. They do not pick at their nails or say slang words like 'Brits' either!" She shouts.

"Well, you just said 'Brits' yourself." I say sarcastically and Mothers face goes bright red.

"Do not answer back! You're a young lady! You do as you're told! And stop slouching you silly and stupid girl!" My mother screams at me and I slouch even further.

"Elina, why don't you keep off of our Sammy's back? You're always telling her off about one thing or another." Father says and I sigh.

"Don't you get involved, John," Mother shouts at Father, "And her name is Samantha and NOT Sammy! It's your fault she's like this. You should be backing me up whilst I attempt to make her act like a lady but you pick sides with her!"

"I can call her Sammy if I want to. She prefers Sammy so I will call her Sammy."

"Sammy's a boys name!" Mother screams.

"Then you should have named me something like Alice! Then you can't shorten it!" I shout at her and her face turns purple nearly.

"I named you appropriately. You should start acting more of a lady!" Mother yells at me.

"Elina will you stop it!" Father shouts back at Mother. "Our daughter is perfect the way she is. She hasn't got a sweetheart, she's not courting anyone. There's not likely to be a marriage so what's the big rush? For three months now you've been nagging her and giving her a bollocking for any little thing. For goodness sakes what's got into you? Come on, spill the bloody beans!"

I watch as Mother takes a deep breath and her face colour goes back to normal. "There's a young man - no older than 20 - coming to the village to live with his family. They're wealthy, too." Mother explains and I feel the blood and colour leave my face.

"Wh...what are you saying? What do you mean?" I question, although I know exactly what she means. She plans to sell me to this man to marry me and then she will get some of the wealth and be able to boast who her daughter wedded to.

"I plan for you and him to marry." Mother explains and even though I knew what she wanted it was still like a slap to the face. How could she do this to me? Use me? Sell me?

"B-but that's absurd. I-I don't even know him..." I say slowly, trailing off. I look to Father for help but he's as pale and as shocked as I am. There's something in his eyes too as he stares at Mother. I can't quite put my finger on it. Is he angry with her? Upset with her? Happy with her? Shocked at her?

And then when I finally figure it out I'm shocked. He's not angry at her. Or upset with her. Father is appalled at Mother. He's appalled at her.

Father stands up, looks at me apologetically, holds my shoulder for a second or two and then walks out the room and out the front door to have a walk without a word to either myself or Mother. I look at my mother, tears filling my eyes and spilling over.

"His family's already accepted, haven't they? You've already sold me off to marry someone I don't even know yet, haven't you?" I say. Tears falling down my cheeks and off of my chin now. Mother looks at me, and then at the floor and nods.

I have nothing else to say to her. Nothing worth saying. I storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me and then I storm outside. And I walk out of the garden. And I walk into the woods. And I take off my boots and hitch up my skirts and climb a tree - taking my boots up with me - before I pull my knees up to my chest and sob.

Isn't a mother supposed to look after her children? Her daughters? Isn't a mother supposed to care for their children and not sell them off? Sell them to get married? April's mother lets her marry whoever she wants. Johnny's mother asks for his opinion before making hers. Charlotte's mother thinks about what's best for Charlotte. Why isn't my mother the same? Why doesn't my mother care for me? Why?

Why?