Back In Action

Chapter Eighteen

After dinner, David was invited to join others at the Crow and Gate. "I would like to, but I must write letters to my wife and to my parents. I wouldn't want them to think I'm missing again."

Back in his room, he took off his suit and hung it in the wardrobe. I need a dressing gown. Wonder if we'll have a chance to go shopping. Probably during lunchtime. I can send Tompkins, anyway.

He pulled on a pair of trousers and a shirt, then sat at the desk and began to write.

Dear Mamère and Dad,

I arrived safely last evening in Oxford and have now survived my first day full here. A surprise to me is news I had been granted a field commission at Ypres a day or two before I ended up on the wrong side of the lines. The clerk told me my back pay and field pay for the entire two months I was posted as missing will be at the officer's rate.

Mamère, I'm thankful you instilled in me an ease with etiquette and social graces. These appear to be an important part of our assessment through this course. I've run into a snobbishness which seems similar to that which you'd told me had turned your father away from doing much with his title. I now better understand his feelings toward it.

I'm being measured for my new uniforms tomorrow, but other than that, I've nothing to tell you after the huge missive I mailed yesterday from London. This is the address you can use for the next four months.

Love, David

David read the letter through, folded it and sealed it in an envelope, then in the upper corner, he wrote his address from the Brasenose booklet. He let out a loud sigh as he took a fresh sheet of paper and began to write again.

My Dearest Maria;

It seems so strange to be writing to you, rather than simply reaching out and touching you, enfolding you and merging as one. How I miss you. I've tried not thinking of you so I'm not distracted, but you're impossible to ignore. You've permeated my entire being.

On the train from Belfort, I met a French Army Medical Officer, Major Loic Vatan. I told him about the injured prisoner of war project, and he was very enthusiastic about the idea. I gave him Edith's address, and I'm near certain he'll be writing.

I'm sending this letter to you in care of Edith, thinking that by the time it gets to Bern, you will have arrived. Please inform me if there's another address I should use.

It's barely two and a half days since we were together, but it seems so much longer, the time having all been so full. I was surprised when I arrived here to find I'd been granted a field commission and that I had been an officer when I left the trenches in Ypres. It appears word hadn't made it from the War Office to our scattered positions.

The finest outcome from this is that I have private quarters, rather than shared rooms like the others. I have my own water closet, sink and shower so I won't have the awkwardness of being seen in gang showers. Also, I can look at your pictures and pleasure myself in full privacy and comfort. God, I miss you.

I wore my lounge suit to the Mess this evening and received nothing but glowing comments on it. The style and cloth you chose appear to please everyone. I'm being measured for my new uniforms tomorrow, and I hope the tailor does as fine a job as Pierre did.

I need to mention my batman here. My new rank entitles me to a personal valet. The Army calls him a batman, from the olden term beast man, the officer's horse groom. Anyway, Tompkins, my batman was working with a clothier in London before the War, and his father's a tailor there. They'll be measuring me tomorrow. Fortunately, the uniform trousers are cut similar to jodhpurs, so we won't repeat the embarrassing fitting problems Pierre had. Should also be easier when I think of you. God, I miss you.

The bugler has begun playing the last post, so I should close this, relax myself and get some sleep.

Like you said in the mountains all those weeks ago, I don't know the meaning of love, but I now know its feeling.

I love you,

David

He waited a few moments for the ink to dry, then blew out a loud breath as he folded the letter and inserted it into an envelope. This is going to be a long course.

Wednesday 30 June 1915

David had quickly fallen into the routine after the first two days of confusion. By the beginning of the second week, events had become much more predictable, and he had learned to assess what each of his officers and NCOs was looking for. His beard and his Canadian accent seemed always to spark new conversations, and he had made many friends, both in his Company and in the others.

After two fittings, his uniforms were finished and had been delivered Tuesday afternoon, along with the cap Tompkins had arranged to have picked up from Bates. On Wednesday morning David was finally able to change from his civvies for Parade. His boots wouldn't arrive for another week so he put on his walking shoes and wrapped his calves in the puttees Tompkins had acquired. Then donning his cap and pulling on his gloves, he headed out to the quadrangle in preparation for forming up.

He returned a steady stream of salutes as he made his way toward his muster area. Hadn't thought of this. I'm going to wear out my arm here. Surely they needn't salute me, I'm a student. As he joined the gathering of his Company, the salutes continued. "Hey, guys, trash the salutes. It's only me, David. You're not being infiltrated."

"I didn't realise you were commissioned, Sir," Herbert said.

"There's no reason for you to have known. I'm still David, so drop the sir." He looked down at his uniform. "Wearing this doesn't change who I am. Besides, if you all continue to salute me, I'll wear this out returning them." He laughed as he shook his right arm for emphasis.

He looked to his right at the sound of the School Sergeant-Major bellowing. "Maaaaaarrrr — kers."

"That's me. Have to go." He marched to join the six other right markers, then they marched to their spots, and the school was fallen in. After the Company Sergeants-Major had called roll, the officers fell in to salute during the playing of God Save the King as the flag was hoisted.

Once the flag was up, the companies were placed in open-order and inspections began. "So you're finally out of civvies. That looks sharp."

"Thank you, Sir. I'm still waiting on my boots, the Sam Browne and a few other things."

Lieutenant Condon looked down. "Shoes and puttees are fine for now. So's the rest of it until the end of the fourth week."

"Thank you, Sir."

After they had been fallen out in front of the lecture halls, David walked toward their first class with Jim and Terrence, two of the three other Canadians in the Company. "You're full of surprises," Jim said. "First, you dress in the finest suit of clothes I've ever seen, then your two-minute introductory speech leaves us breathless as you evade through Germany and over the mountains, then we find out you're married to a beautiful Swiss winemaker, now you spring Lieutenant's pips on us. What's next?"

"Surprise is a powerful tactic, both on and off the battlefield." He laughed and wagged a finger. "If I tell you, it won't be a surprise, will it?"