As I Lay Dying

Seventeen

1916

That lonesome bird greets the most beautiful dawn I've ever witnessed. The sky is alight with the most beautiful purples, oranges and reds I've ever seen.

"See Jimmy?" Luke says softly. "That's because Tommy's made it home. He's painted the whole sky."

A silent sob wracks Jimmy's body as we stare down at the small patch of upturned earth and simple wooden cross.

This is the last we'll see of him. We won't return to see the white stone they place here, emblazoned with Tommy's name and his short life. We couldn't, even if we survive long enough. Seeing his stone amongst countless others would take something from him. He'd just be the same as everyone else, just another dead solider, not our little Tommy who loved to draw, who was always so brave even when he was terrified.
This little cross is more authentic, it wasn't paid for by faceless people who pretend to mourn him.

Jimmy steps forward and clumsily pulls an envelope from his pocket. Tommy's last letter from his mother. It arrived yesterday.

Kneeling slowly, Jimmy shakily scrapes back a handful of earth and presses the letter down into the mud before covering it again. He stays on his knees between us, his huge hands covering him face in a heart wrenching display of silent grief.

"Mark my words, I'll kill that bastard officer with my own hands. I swear." Luke says bitterly.

I nod dumbly and place my hand on Jimmy's shoulder. The guilt has eaten away at me for the past week. It's my fault he was on watch, my fault he was sent out.

"Stop it Harry." Luke says softly. "If you do that then you'll just destroy yourself. That's what he wants."

The first rays on sunlight creep towards us and Luke speaks again.

"We've got to leave you here little lad." He says gently. "But you'll always be with us, no matter where we go. If ever we feel alone or sad, we'll remember that somewhere we have a brave, kind friend who's waiting to see us again."

Long minutes pass before Jimmy slowly stands.

"There's no priest to say anything." He says thickly. Luke, non religious as he is, is the only one of us who is capable of clear speech. He pauses for a moment before speaking quietly;

"And at the gates of heaven, To Saint Peter he will tell, One more solider reporting sir, I've served my time in hell."

***

"How long is this for then?"

Luke takes a long drink from his mug as he looks over at me.

"I don't know. Sergeant Johnson was furious. He's reported Darlington."

"That won't do anything." Luke waves the barman over and watches as he pours him another beer.

"I suppose." I shrug, drawing deeply on my cigarette. "He's alright though, Johnson."

"They're all the same if you ask me." Luke says darkly and despite the horrors of the past week, I can't help but smile. Luke's distrust and hatred of authoritative figures is so ingrained that I sometimes think an officer could save his mothers life and he'd still find a reason to call him a bastard.

At Sergeant Johnsons demand we have been released on a couple of days leave, we're long overdue as it is. The nearest town isn't much but it feels like heaven compared to the frontline.

"So what's Johnson going to do then? Overrule his commanding officer?"

"He's reported Darlington-"