Chapter 14 All’s Quiet on The Western Front
Flanders really did seem to have miserable weather all twelve months of the year.
Although each season brought its own unique hell, the winter months were particularly awful.
The cold and damp got into your bones, and no fire ever seemed to burn hot enough to feel warm again.
No Man’s Land, with its endless waves of bomb craters, took on an extra lifelessness. Even the mud seemed slimier.
And if the winter in Flanders was bad, night duty in February was the absolute bottom of the barrel.
Charlie was feeling pretty passionate about this conclusion as he stood in his guard post, looking out into the darkness towards the German lines.
Snow had started falling an hour ago, big fluffy flakes that stuck to his jacket and eyelashes.
All in all, it hadn’t been a bad trip up to the front.
Only a few light skirmishes and fired shots, both sides engaging in the minimum actions required to maintain appearances to their respective higher-ups.
Still, Charlie would have preferred not freezing his arse off in the guard station with another four hours left to go.
He was wondering if he would ever feel his toes again when he heard a familiar, precise voice speak behind him. “Anything to report, Corporal Villiers?”
Charlie smiled. Ned was back. They hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Ned had been on leave in Blighty, and Charlie hadn’t been sure when he would return. Sudden leave home seemed odd to Charlie, but maybe that was how things worked when you were an officer whose father had a title.
Not knowing who else might be around, Charlie stood up straight and tried to look serious. “No, sir. The enemy is all tucked into their beds tonight.”
“Good.” Ned moved to stand beside him, staring out towards the frozen fields of mud, taking an officer's wide stance, arms held behind his back.
This wasn’t the first time they had night duty together, but it wasn’t a common occurrence either. The other times had been the beginning of an excellent evening of anticipation followed by some very strong payoff.
“How was London, sir?” Charlie didn’t think anyone else was around, but even if they were overheard, Ned’s trip home was well known.
Ned glanced back at the small trench route that connected the guard sap to the main trench line before easing his shoulders just a touch.
“It was surreal to be back. To see familiar sights.” His voice was soft and distant. “I brought back chocolate.”
Charlie let his own stance relax, leaning against the trench wall. “Contraband? They might demote you if they knew.”
“I take it you don’t want any?” Ned was already reaching into his jacket and pulling out the package.
“I was only warning you as a more experienced rule-breaker.”
Ned passed him a square, and Charlie bit into it.
Heaven. Not too sweet, and not dressed up with nuts or fruit.
Just the good stuff. Charlie’s sweet tooth was a weak point that he tried to hide, but Ned had found a stash of Cadbury wrappers in his trouser pocket a few months ago, and mercifully stopped laughing after only a few minutes.
They enjoyed the chocolate in silence, still looking across the battlefield. The snow stuck on the frozen mud and sparkled in the moonlight.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself fully while out of the trenches.” Charlie threw Ned a knowing smile. “Get your fill of pretties?”
Ned stiffened. “I hardly had the time.”
Ned was always discreet, always careful never to show a preference for Charlie or do him favours. Presumably, he was equally careful about all his partners. What did Charlie know? Maybe whoever’s cock Ned was sucking in London was someone important.
With a shrug, Charlie tried to dismiss the question. “Apologies, shouldn’t have asked.”
Charlie could just make out Ned's face flinching in the dark. “You shouldn't have assumed. You are the only man I am intimate with.”
Charlie stared back in stunned confusion. What was Ned on about? It was true he had never seen Ned with anyone else, or heard gossip, but Charlie never thought… And what did Ned mean by intimate? That was an odd way to describe sucking cocks. Did Ned think there was something romantic between them?
Charlie’s response came out stronger than he intended. “What we do is about surviving in this hellhole. Chaps need release, and we help each other. Simple as that.”
Ned laughed in a harsh, barking way. “Like mustard gas or the trenches—a necessity of war.”
Charlie wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he’d just been insulted. “I make do with what is available.”
Ned’s voice was as cold as the air around them. “Heaven forbid I might have thought you enjoyed the time we spend together.”
“No point making it out to be anything special.” He was being an arse, but he was past pretending that there could be any special moments in the trenches.
“Well, let me correct you of any misapprehensions. I don’t suffer any illusions about the emotional nature of our interactions.
I simply do not consider it prudent that an officer should be thought of as someone who fucks his way through his men.
Getting VD from whores doesn’t hold a lot of appeal either.
I had no idea that you would find it so offensive that I’m selective.
Perhaps I will reconsider.” With that, Ned nodded to Charlie, stance back to that of an officer getting an update from his night guard. “Good evening, Corporal.”
???
Charlie had plenty of time to think over the next few hours as the snow continued to fall on the mud of Flanders.
What the fuck had Ned been on about? Charlie had just wanted to get through his guard duty and then find a corner to get warm with Ned. He had even been thinking about sucking Ned off again. Yet somehow Ned was acting as if Charlie had insulted his mother.
He and Ned were about pleasure. If he also liked talking to Ned, it was because they were decent chaps, and Charlie was a talkative person.
A small voice at the back of Charlie’s mind whispered, What about that night at the tavern?
But Charlie didn’t think about the night at the tavern, hadn’t let himself think about it since picking himself off the lumpy bed at dawn the next morning and creeping out while Ned still slept.
At the end of the day, Charlie was just like every other man in the division—if he had an opportunity to fuck, he took it.
Men like Pemberton might be repulsed by what two men get up to together, but killing was called murder back home, so Charlie wasn’t going to get too caught up in morals.
He hadn’t been disgusted with himself the first time he had a fellow’s hand stuffed down his trousers any more than he had been ashamed the first time he bartered in broken French in a brothel.
Charlie stomped his boots to make sure the cold didn’t completely freeze his toes off. Christ, it was freezing.
What did he care if Ned was angry at him?
Ned wasn’t the only man Charlie could go and enjoy a darkened corner with.
That new private, the one with the fair blond hair, had been making doe eyes at Charlie for the past week.
He would have no problem sucking Charlie’s cock, had even offered last night, and Charlie had said no, because…
“I said, all quiet, Corporal?” Charlie jerked, startled.
Ned was back. Doing full rounds, not tucked into his bunk after one circuit. He always took his responsibilities more seriously than any other officer.
“Yes, sir,” Charlie replied, ignoring the flutter of relief in his chest.
To his surprise, Ned held out the remaining half of the chocolate bar. “Peace offering?”
“Thank you.” Charlie’s words formed clouds in the cold. He wasn’t sure how to react, especially since he was about a quarter of an hour away from acknowledging to himself that he had been the idiot.
“Apologies, Charlie.” All the officiousness was gone from Ned’s voice, but he sounded hoarse, as if he had been screaming, or maybe crying. “I was agitated, and I deliberately provoked you. That wasn’t fair.”
Charlie snapped off a piece of chocolate and passed the bar back to Ned. “Night duty does that to a man.” He wanted to match Ned’s attempt to mend bridges, but wasn’t sure how. So he went for a safe response. “Haven’t been sleeping well myself, to be honest. Makes me grumpy.”
“As compared to your normally sunny disposition?” Ned rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “What’s keeping you from the land of nod?”
“Ever shared a dormitory with forty farting soldiers? Half of whom snore like it’s the end of days?” Charlie forced laughter into his voice. The truth was, every time he closed his eyes, his mind became a rotating gallery of maimed men and screaming.
Something of Charlie’s tension must have slipped through his facade because Ned asked, “Is there anything I can do?”
Charlie’s response caught in his throat.
Since their drive in the country, when they had talked about the soldiers they wanted to be, a request had been niggling in Charlie’s mind about whether someone could be made a permanent stretcher bearer.
Maybe not at the front for three weeks at a time, but Charlie knew there were chaps who went over the top with the express purpose of bringing the injured back to the dressing stations.
Charlie was pretty sure that Ned would know the answers to those questions, maybe even have the pull to make it happen.
Charlie opened his mouth and met Ned’s deep hazel eyes.
Ned was always so fierce and bold, so willing to make sacrifices.
How could Charlie explain to this man the terror of being sent out to kill again?
So instead he asked, “Can you get me a bottle of gin and a feather bed?”
Ned chuckled his response.