"Read the latest news!"

14 0 0
                                    

"Fruits and veg, fruits and veg! Fresh from the orchards, the farms! Only sixpence per 4 pounds of apples today, it's a special offer, sirs and madames! Here you go, Miss Acklesbury, that'll be a farthing. Ta, have a good day!"

The year was 1914, and the markets of London were especially busy today. Charles Rotherman, a light-natured man in his late teens, had woken up early this morning to collect fruit from the local orchards and fruit farms. His grey eyes sparkled with happiness whenever someone came to his market stall, his black hair spiky and combed under his cap. The sun was shining and the grass was green, what more could he want?

Across from the stall, a young boy around the age of seven or eight stood with a pile of newspapers in one arm, and a copy in his other hand that he was frantically waving about. With a loud shout, the boy smiled as a rich gentleman took a copy and paid him half a pence. Charles looked over, trying to listen to what he was saying. Not that it was hard for him, despite being small, the boy's voice was like a constant bellowing.


"Read the latest news! Straight from the press! Of course, we'll win! God Save The King! Read the latest papers, everyone!"

Charles, feeling curious, asked the person from the baker stall next to him to keep an eye on his own produce and ran over to the boy with the papers. Bending down to meet his eye level, he asked the boy what the fuss was about and what would Britain win? With a smile on his face the boy handed him a copy of the paper.

"That'll be half a pence, Mister! Britain's going to war!"

As the boy said, on the front page of the newspaper in jet black ink, read the dreaded title.

"BRITAIN OFFICIALLY GOES TO WAR."

A blank look swept across Charles's face and his hands were shaking. War? His wonderful country, his pride and joy, going to war?

We All Go To Hell...Where stories live. Discover now