All I Have to Give (12 page)

‘Eloise, I have to ask: what was going on, do you know? Andrina wasn’t . . . No, she wouldn’t. Florrie was demented. We cannot take any notice of what she said. Andrina
wouldn’t look at someone like Jay, I . . .’

‘She did, Daddy. Andrina had a silly fascination for Jay, but I hadn’t wanted to worry you, as I thought it would pass. He is responsible, Father. Jay lured Andrina. He played on her
infatuation.’

‘Good God! And you didn’t think to tell me or your mother this was going on? That a servant and your sister—’

A knock at the door stopped him from going on. Jorrington announced that the police would like a word.

It was an hour later when Eloise discovered that Florrie had been found. She’d hanged herself. Eloise wasn’t sure how to deal with this news. Everything seemed so
unreal. Changed forever. How could a normal day end in such shocking tragedy?
Oh, Andrina, my darling sister . . . how can I live without you?

Abbeville Camp and Stores, mid-July 1916
A thread holds us to life: Jimmy’s breaks

‘I don’t believe it was an accident. Had you not come across James O’Flynn when you did, he would have done this deed anyway.’

For a moment Albert couldn’t think who this James was, then realized that the officer was referring to young Jimmy. This was a formal hearing, so they would use his proper name. ‘No,
sir, it wasn’t like that. The lad was shaking, but not with fear; he was shaking with the ’orror of what he’d seen and realizing that ’is friends hadn’t made it. We
all do that. Sometimes it lasts a while, and at other times it goes as we get on with ’elping the wounded. Young Jimmy ain’t a coward. He’s one of the bravest lads I’ve
fought alongside.’

‘So how come his gun was loaded and ready to fire? What was he going to fire at, if not himself, to inflict an injury that would get him out of here? The battle was over, so he’d no
need to be prepared for attack.’

‘He must ’ave forgotten to unload, sir. He would ’ave come round. He was in a bad way mentally, but he . . .’

‘Exactly! Afraid, and wanting to take the coward’s way out.’

‘No!’

‘Yes, I think so, Corporal. It is admirable that you want to protect him, but where would we be, if we let these cowards off? All the men would be doing the same – shooting
themselves just to get home.’

“Ow the fuck dare you—’

‘Corporal, I would remind you who you are speaking to!’

‘And I would remind
you,
Captain Blakley, that you are out of order speaking of the ranks in that manner.’ General Ickmey’s voice resounded around the wooden barrack
room that was being used for young Jimmy’s court martial. It was one of a dozen huts not far from the hospital tents, which were mostly used for stores, although some were used as rest rooms
for the men and officers when they took a short break from the front. This one in particular was used as an officers’ mess.

General Ickmey presided over the proceedings and was known as a fair man when dealing with the ranks, though Albert doubted that would make a difference to Jimmy’s fate. But now as the
general continued, his voice booming, his words made Albert feel pride – a pride that nudged the hopelessness of Jimmy’s case to one side, just for a moment. . . ‘And might I say
that to address such a callous remark to Corporal Price, who has seen so many heroes from the ranks die and has been mentioned in Dispatches, is beyond the pale. Yes, there are cowards amongst the
men, but to put them all under the same heading is an insult to the thousands of brave men who have lost their lives and to those still willing to fight for their country.’ After a
moment’s pause he turned to Albert and said, ‘However, Corporal Price, this is a court martial, and I will not allow such language, or indeed outbursts of any kind.’

‘I beg your pardon, General Ickmey, sir. Thank you for what you said.’

‘Very well, let us proceed. Captain Blakley, I think we have heard enough evidence now to come to a conclusion. Please round up your questioning.’

Standing and clicking his heels, the captain narrowed his eyes. ‘No more questions for this witness, sir.’

Albert rose and went to sit behind Jimmy. It had only been four days since the incident and the lad looked drained. His eyes were glazed and a dreadful trembling shook his body.
Couldn’t they see the lad wasn’t right?

Albert wanted to say something to Jimmy, but knew that if he did he might be removed from the room and he wanted to listen to the summing-up of the evidence given when he hadn’t been in
the courtroom. Evidence that gave no hope. Evidence taken from the lad who had told Albert about seeing Jimmy in the trench. His testimony alone – relating that he’d seen Jimmy cowering
in a corner, sweating and shaking and then reloading his gun – must have sealed the boy’s fate. Then came a summary of the evidence from the medical staff who had treated Jimmy. Edith,
his own Edith, had said that the injury could have been self-inflicted, though he guessed she would have tried to qualify that, by saying that she believed the circumstances under which she was
told it had happened. But then even if that was so (and he hadn’t been present during her stand, so didn’t know for sure), no such possibility was permitted in this one-sided
summing-up. As the officer’s voice droned on, his tone mocking any idea of Jimmy’s innocence, Albert listened with a sinking heart to the final nail in Jimmy’s coffin being
hammered home, as he heard what had been told to the court by the VAD who had worked with Jimmy. She had said that Jimmy told her he had intended suicide.

Albert’s fears deepened with every word uttered by the prosecuting officer.

Once the officer came to the end of his summing-up, every man to the last one knew the outcome. There could be no other, but when Albert heard the general say the words, the bile rose in his
stomach.

‘James O’Flynn, you are stripped of the honour of being a member of His Majesty’s Forces and have been found to be a coward. Punishment for this offence is death. You will be
taken out at dawn and shot. May God have mercy on your soul.’

A sob came into the silence that followed. It was a weak sob, but the sound cut a deep pain into Albert’s heart. He had to do something – anything – to save Jimmy.

As he walked back to the soldiers’ rest room from the officers’ mess hut Albert’s heart felt heavy with dread. The decision to end Jimmy’s life had been cut-and-dried for
the officers. You fought or you were a coward, and that was that. Well, Jimmy had fought; he’d gone over the top without protest and had charged gallantly into the fray, not faltering. And
now, for a moment of madness, he was going to die at the hands of his own comrades.
Well, here’s one who isn’t going to fire a bullet at him. Nothing is as sure as that. I’ll
be called upon, no doubt, but I won’t fire, and I don’t care what happens to me as a consequence!

The summons came within the hour. Albert spat on the ground in disgust. Twelve of them had received the order. Besides himself, the lad who’d testified and hadn’t stopped sniffling
since had also been charged to be one of the line-up to fire at Jimmy. They were in the mess hut when it came: a written instruction to fall in for firing-squad duty at 3 a.m. the next morning.

None of them spoke for a full ten minutes. To Albert, it had been settled. How come these particular men were here, ready? Some had given evidence, but not all, and not all had been due a rest
break either.

The sound of the battle raging in the distance took the space around them. Albert wondered how many would die today, and knew all would be classed as heroes. Jimmy deserved that accolade.
Jimmy is a hero – he is!
‘Damn it, ’e is!’

‘Did you say sommat, Corp?’

He hadn’t realized that he had, but now he knew he’d sworn out loud. ‘Look, lads, it’s odds-on that all of us will be dead sometime in the near future. I don’t know
about you, but I don’t want yet another one of our comrades’ blood on me ’ands before I die. As Corporal, I’ll be the one to prepare the guns. I’m going to make sure
that I’m one of the ones with the live bullet in me gun, and I’m firing above Jimmy’s ’ead.’

‘But, Corporal, sir, you’ll end up shot yourself!’

‘I don’t care, Brigsy. I’m not shooting young Jimmy, are any of yer with me? You all know the score, some live bullets, some blank. A daft system that’s meant to
’elp us believe that we didn’t shoot the deadly bullet. But we all know if we did or didn’t because the live bullets give a kick-back and the blanks don’t.’

‘What’s your thinking, Corp?’ Brigsy asked.

‘If you’re with me I could make sure who gets the live bullets, and them as do will ’ave to agree to fire above Jimmy’s head. Then he won’t die. And, if that is so,
then surely no one could be so inhuman as to make a lad face the firing squad twice, so I see it as a way to try to save ’im.’

‘Aye, I’m with you on that, Corp. I’m not for shooting a fellow northerner, especially one who has shown the courage that Jimmy has. I’ll take a live bullet and fire it
above Jimmy’s head, and I’ll take the consequences.’

‘But you’ll be court-martialled.’ This, from Gates, got short shrift from Brigsy: ‘Aye, we knows that. But seeing as the Corp is willing to face that, then the least we
can all do is to support him.’ Brigsy looked around at all those called upon.

One by one they agreed. Names were put into a hat and those to have live ammunition didn’t falter on their decision. The talk went to the spark of hope Albert’s plan had given, as
they all felt the hopelessness of their lives. And all said words to the effect that if a bullet had their name on it in the near future, they would have a better passing, knowing they had saved
Jimmy. Better than dying at the top of the trench and dropping face-down into the mud, having advanced no more than ten yards in a bloody killing field.

Albert took each one’s hand in a firm shake of friendship. It hurt him to realize that, in his plan, he would have to make provisions for his own safety and theirs that would mean hurting,
and even maiming, some of them. But what upset him most was that he knew he would be deserting these men, as he planned on taking his chances and making a run for it, no matter what that entailed,
or what the consequences to himself.

Darkness clothed the hut where the twelve slept. Albert lay awake listening to their snores, though some, he knew, were awake like himself. Safe in the knowledge they
wouldn’t question him, he got out of bed and dressed.

Outside, the air held the dampness he’d become used to. Making his way to the stores, he intended to retrieve some things from his box. Like all of his fellow soldiers, he had a box of
sorts, holding personal belongings. Most boxes held letters, photos and memorabilia, items the soldiers had picked up, wanting to take home, to capture in some way what their life was like: empty
bullet cases, German Army helmets or belts, that kind of thing; some had German weaponry. His own pride and joy was a Chauchat machine rifle. It was a brilliant gun that you held at the hip and it
fired round after round, used by the French and many other countries. He’d often wondered why the English hadn’t been issued with them.

Greeting the guard, he stood for a moment and smoked a fag with him. He knew Freddie well, for the two of them had grown up in the same street in the East End. Freddie turned a blind eye while
Albert rummaged through his box, not bothering to look at what he pulled out of it or to question the fact that he’d walked out of the store with a long bundle.

The site of the coming execution sickened Albert as he walked up to it, but he kept focused on his plan. Already a working party was in place, preparing the site: a bench for the guns, chairs
for the clergy and doctor.

Unrolling the cloth that contained his guns, Albert loaded the handgun and placed it in his pocket. It bulged out, but when his jacket was back in place, the flap covered it. Now he prepared the
automatic and strapped it to his back through his jacket belt, hoping it wouldn’t show.

One of the working party must have heard the click of the loading action. He stopped what he was doing, lifted his rifle and shouted, ‘Who goes there?’

Coming into view, Albert answered, ‘Corporal in charge of the firearms.’

‘Oh, righto. How you doing, Corp?’

‘Been better. Have yer the guns unloaded yet?’

‘Aye, they’re in that box over there.’

‘Right, two of yer bring the box to the bench for me. I’ll get on with preparing ’em.’

Working away at laying out the guns and loading some of them with live ammunition and some with blanks, Albert kept his eye on the men. When none of them were looking, he undid his belt and
carefully pulled the Chauchat from behind him. The rattle of the bullets hanging from it made him freeze with fear at one point, but none of the others took any notice. He hid the rifle inside the
empty box and covered it with the hessian that had been wrapped around the guns, before closing the lid.

Taking out his knife, he made a nick in the underside of the butts of the guns he must allocate to the men who had agreed to have those with live bullets in them. He
must
get it right.
Any mistakes and Jimmy would be a dead man.

A distant church clock struck the half-hour. One-thirty. He needed to get back to his men and prepare them. There would be under an hour to go, by the time he got back.

With everything in place, nerves attacked him. Adrenalin had kept them away till now. Sweat stood out on his body and his stomach churned, to the extent that he had to crouch behind a bush to
relieve himself.

Jimmy stood where they placed him. Taking his last glimpse of the world through tear-filled eyes, he looked up at the cloud-covered sky just breaking into light and throwing a
purple hue over the shadowy field. Then he let his glance fall on the black outline of the trees and savoured the feel of the breeze as it brushed across his skin. This field had no trenches dug
into it, a fact that reassured him that at least he wasn’t going to die in a trench, or on the battlefield, with his fellow men treading his body into the mud.