Half Sick of Shadows » Band of Brothers [2]

36: Rarely Pure and Never Simple

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple." - Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

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When we stop off at some German town or other, the majority of the houses are cleared of civilians in order to provide a place for everyone to stay. I know this is common practise but watching the family leave the house we've been billeted in makes my heart squeeze. A little girl emerges in her mothers arms, a teddy bear clutched tightly in her hands and tears welling in her eyes. I have a good mind to tell them all to stop it and that we'll just sleep outside but no one wants to listen to me.

I've been getting army rations since being with the company and it's the least I can do, so I approach the little girl and her mother slowly, making sure they can see me approaching first so I don't scare them. The mother watches me warily and the daughter begins to weep until I hold out the chocolate bar I've been issued to her.

The little girl simply stares at it for a few moments as though in a daze so her mother takes it from me instead. She offers me a small smile before unwrapping it with one hand and offering it to her daughter.

"Es tut mir so leid wegen deinem Haus," I say softly.

The woman nods at me but says nothing more.

Taking that as my cue to leave, I offer the little girl a smile before turning and returning to where I'd been waiting, leaning against the wall of the front garden. The woman and her daughter follow after who I presume are the father and son of their family, and I watch them disappear from sight.

I wait outside for a little while, taking in the growing darkness and the sound of the birds singing in the trees. Being outside is something I rather treasure now after not having had any fresh air at all for five months. When Tom comes outside to find me I'm sitting atop the wall, stargazing.

"Food," he says simply. He hands me one of the small metal bowls the army use along with a spoon.

I poke around at it for a while before catching sight of the look Tom's giving me, and then eat it as quickly as I can without giving myself indigestion. When I'm finished he takes it back from me wordlessly, but he doesn't leave. Instead, he sits up beside me on the wall.

"Tom," I begin after a while of silence. When I glance at him he nods. "Do you regret becoming a spy?"

Tom considers the question for quite a while. If I didn't know him so well I might think that he's chosen not to answer it, but I know his ticks when he's thinking hard about something. He runs his hands through his fair hair repeatedly, and each time he does it the strands catch the moonlight and dance in it.

After what is perhaps three minutes he answers, "I don't think so." When I look at him, he explains, "I always had a lot of friends growing up but I've never really had close friends before. Not proper close friends. And I've definitely never had a best friend. It might sound silly to say, or trivial, but I think I'd like to keep that. Knowing what it's like to have friends that you care for so much they're family."

This makes me smile, and I wrap my arms around his waist. "You're the best friend I've ever had. Do you know that?"

Tom laughs a little bit. I feel him wrap an arm around my shoulders. "Yeah, Jules. I know."

"You're more of a brother, really. In every way except blood."

"You wrote those exact words in your confession, I'm pretty sure."

I laugh a little bit, though really I want to cry, and close my eyes. "Yeah," I say eventually, "I think I did."

"In the part where you got caught," he adds.