Play@YSDC

Posted: **Wed Sep 22, 2021 6:14 pm**

Tuesday, 10 June 1918. 5.30pm.
Field Hospital No.5, Coupru, Northern France

“Here you go,” said the driver, a young Englishwoman working with the VAD, who had driven the ambulance up from the depot some ten miles behind the lines. She pulled up in the courtyard of a large French villa, then headed inside to get her orders, leaving Joe to rescue his kitbag from behind his seat.

When told he was being sent to a hospital, the scene in front of him was the furthest thing from his mind. He had expected an elegant building in peaceful surroundings, with crisp white sheets and calm but efficient staff. What he saw was a shabby building pockmarked with bullet holes and shrapnel, and with two men on the roof trying to fix a tarpaulin over a gaping hole. The ‘crump, crump’ of artillery fire from the front line couldn’t hide the cries of pain and the moans of the suffering, and he couldn’t help but notice in one of the barns off to the side, shrouded bodies awaited burial.

The guard by the front door looked at him curiously. “Are you lost, Father?” he enquired.

Posted: **Wed Sep 22, 2021 7:14 pm**

Studying the battered villa with world-weary eyes, Father Joe slings his kitbag over his shoulder with an ease that belies its weight. He sighs and, summoning inner-strength from depleted reserves, crosses himself and takes a step forward.

"We're all lost, my son..." he mutters in a deep Irish brogue, before forcing himself to smile.

"Father Joseph O'Toole, your new chaplain," he states, extending a calloused hand.

Posted: **Thu Sep 23, 2021 9:29 pm**

The guard snapped off a salute, then glanced around and shook Joe’s hand. “Always good to meet a fellow Irishman,” he said with a grin.

”If you head inside and ask for Major Parker. He’s the boss around here.”

Posted: **Fri Sep 24, 2021 12:07 pm**

“Major Parker it is then; go raibh maith agat my son.”

With a nod of thanks, Joe takes his leave of the sentry and, taking a deep breath, strides inside.

Posted: **Sat Sep 25, 2021 12:16 am**

Inside the hospital, nursing staff and orderlies moved quickly from room to room. At first glance it seemed to Joe that everything was efficient and well-organised but there was definitely an air of nervousness around the place. Perhaps being just a few miles behind the front line, that wasn’t to be unexpected.

An orderly pointed him in the director of Major Parker’s office, where he found the Chief Surgeon sat behind a desk with a mound of paperwork. He was British, in his late 50’s, with grey, Brylcreemed hair doing its best to disguise a bald spot. He looked tired, with dark bags under his eyes.

He took Joe’s papers and read them carefully. “So, you’re our new chaplain,” he said, looking up at Joe. “Ask one of the orderlies to show you to your room. You can have this evening to get settled in but I expect you report for duty at oh six hundred hours.”

“I take it that you understand your duties?” Parker asked.

Posted: **Sat Sep 25, 2021 10:30 am**

“My duties? Little different to how I administer to my flock in New York I assume. Attending to the spiritual needs of patients and staff alike,” Joe pronounces. “Though I’m not averse to rolling up my sleeves and mucking in.”

He pauses for a moment before continuing.

“Shall we start at the top? How are you?”

Posted: **Sat Sep 25, 2021 2:41 pm**

Major Parker gave Joe a flat look. “This is a field hospital,” he said shortly. “We have men here who are gravely injured, some of whom won’t survive. Their needs are somewhat more challenging than your average parishioner.”

He opened his mouth to say something else when there was a knock at the door. “Co…” he began to say, but the door was pushed open before he could finish and a nurse bustled into the room. With barely a glance at Joe, she snapped, “Major Parker! I must insist you speak to your doctors! My nurses have enough to do without chasing around after them!”

“Father O’Toole - this is Mrs Ogilvy, our Head Nurse,” said Parker. “She…”

“Major Parker!” she snapped, leaning forward with her hands on his desk. “Your doctors are making unreasonable requests upon my nursing staff. They have enough to do with running around after them as well.”

“I trust I’ve made myself clear,” she said, then turned about and stormed out of the office.

Posted: **Sat Sep 25, 2021 3:00 pm**

Despite his tough demeanour, Joe is as flustered as any man when confronted with an angry woman. Consequently he notices nothing out of the ordinary (relatively speaking).

“Saints preserve us…” he mutters, watching the nurse storming out.

“Major, if Mrs. Ogilvy needs help, perhaps that’s one way I can be of assistance?”

Posted: **Mon Sep 27, 2021 12:00 am**

“I would leave well alone until she has calmed down,” replied Major Parker. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a mountain of paperwork to attend to…” He pointed to the door through which Mrs Ogilvy had stormed just moments before.

Outside of the Major’s office, the corridor was empty. Apart from the distant rumble of artillery from the front line, the hospital was quiet.

Posted: **Mon Sep 27, 2021 12:46 pm**

Thus dismissed, Joe looks for an orderly to show him to his quarters.

Posted: **Mon Sep 27, 2021 11:29 pm**

After a few long seconds, a head popped out of one of the doorways along the corridor. ”Can I help you, Sir? Are you lost?”

Posted: **Tue Sep 28, 2021 8:34 am**

Joe smiles. “I’m the new chaplain; would you mind showing me to me quarters?”

Posted: **Tue Sep 28, 2021 11:36 pm**

”Good evening, Father,” replied the man with a bow. ”I am Gurdip Dal. I help the nurses here. Let me take your case.”

Dal trotted along the corridor towards Joe and as he got nearer, Joe could see that he was one of the many Indian sepoys fighting for the British and that he appeared to have lost his left arm below the elbow while doing so.

”Please follow me, Sir,” said Dal, setting a brisk pace as he carried Joe’s bags up to his room, which turned out to be up in the attic. Of some concern to Joe was the sound of men working on the roof nearby, suggesting that the shellfire that damaged the roof hadn’t landed too far away…

There was a window looking out into the courtyard, although the glass was broken and hessian sacking had been used for some makeshift curtains. The room was plainly furnished, with an army camp bed and a storage locker that doubled as a seat. Dal set down Joe’s bags and smiled at him. ”Will there be anything else, Father?” he asked.

Posted: **Wed Sep 29, 2021 9:39 am**

“I gather the doctors are giving Mrs. Ogilvy’s nurses the runaround. What’s the story behind that?” asks Joe, reckoning that the sooner he knows what’s going on the better.

Posted: **Thu Sep 30, 2021 12:22 am**

A puzzled look passed Gurdip Dal’s face. ”What gives you that impression?” he asked. ”Is that what Mrs Ogilvy said to you?”

Posted: **Thu Sep 30, 2021 12:33 pm**

“No, I’ve barely been introduced to the woman. You seem surprised; is it not the case then?” Joe asks. “I’m sure, as a porter, you know what’s what around here. As chaplain, knowing what’s what is very important.”

Posted: **Thu Sep 30, 2021 8:59 pm**

Dal shrugged. ”Everyone is always busy,” he said. ”Men are injured, in pain, dying. It is not an easy place to work, so people get angry, sometimes argue, but giving them ‘the runaround’?” He shrugged again.

Posted: **Thu Sep 30, 2021 9:47 pm**

“Maybe I’m looking for problems where there aren’t any: an occupational hazard perhaps.”

Joe grunts a brief chuckle.

“Thank you for showing me my quarters. Can I ask you to show me to the mess? I thought I’d get a bite to eat before taking a walk around: show my face a bit before I turn in for the night.”

Posted: **Thu Sep 30, 2021 11:47 pm**

”Of course,” replied Gurdip Dal and he led the way down to one of the cellars of the house where an urn of hot water was available to make drinks. Rough bench seats made of planks stretched between two barbed wire drums, with a similar arrangement for tables.

Dal showed Joe where the tea could be found, reminding him not to leave any food out lest it attract rats. Dal then asked to be excused, ”Excuse me, Sir,” he said. ”I hear an ambulance arriving and I may be of assistance.”

Posted: **Fri Oct 01, 2021 1:36 pm**

“Your hearing is better than mine,” Joe replies as he watches the Porter depart.

Sighing, he helps himself to a mug of tea and a little food, if there’s any available, before settling onto a bench. Once ensconced, he watches the comings and goings while waiting for an opportunity to make himself useful.

Posted: **Sat Oct 02, 2021 12:38 am**

Joe had barely taken a sip of his tea when a nurse looked through the doorway. “Father, can you come?” she said. “We have someone who needs you.”

The nurse lead him quickly back upstairs and into one of the wards. Everywhere he looked, men were being treated. Some reacted stoically, others screamed in pain. The room was rich with the smell of blood, vomit and the sharp antiseptic tang of carbolic acid.

The nurse pointed to a bed in the corner. As Joe approached, he could see most of the soldier’s face was covered in bandages, the shape of which suggested that most of the man’s lower jaw was missing. His breathing was shallow, gasping and his grip on life looked tenuous.

Another priest was already knelt in prayer by the soldier’s bedside. A large man with a thick, black beard, he was incanting a prayer in a deep voice. He looked up at Joe and beckoned him to join him in prayer, holding the soldier’s hand as his life force ebbed away…

Posted: **Sat Oct 02, 2021 8:51 am**

Steeling himself to perform Last Rites, Joe crosses himself and then joins the bearded cleric in prayer.

Posted: **Sat Oct 02, 2021 12:21 pm**

The young soldier struggled on but eventually his breathing ceased and he lay still. The bearded priest pulled the blanket up over his face and knelt in silent prayer.

After a few moments, he stood up and held out a hand to Joe to help him up. ”Pombal,” he said, by way of introduction. “I am the local priest here.” His English was broken, with a heavy French accent.

“Father Pombal! I have asked you not to come in here while my nurses are working!” a strident voice came across the ward. Looking over, Joe saw the imposing figure of Mrs Ogilvy frowning in disapproval.

Posted: **Sat Oct 02, 2021 1:05 pm**

For a moment, Joe stands with eyes closed, trying to feel something for the departed soul he had just helped usher on towards judgement. Then his eyes snap open, focusing on Mrs. Ogilvy.

“Mrs. Ogilvy, Father Pombal and I were just performing Last Rites on this poor soul. I trust it’s not too much of a hindrance to request a little peace?” he asks, somewhat sternly.

“I am your new chaplain after all, and Father Pombal is… What is your official status Father?” he asks.

Posted: **Sun Oct 03, 2021 11:41 pm**

“He has no official status!” snapped Mrs Ogilvy. “I don’t know why Major Parker doesn’t show him the door. If it was up to me your bags would be packed!” She stabbed an angry finger in the direction of the French priest to underline her point.

Posted: **Mon Oct 04, 2021 10:54 am**

Joe looks from one antagonist to the other and frowns. Hands held up as if to separate two punch-drunk boxers, he interposes himself between them.

“Perhaps we should all calm down; for the sake of our charges if nothing else. Then, perhaps you’d both like to explain to me what’s going on. Why all this antagonism?” he asks, an edge of authority in his voice.

Posted: **Mon Oct 04, 2021 8:06 pm**

The ward had gone quiet with a collective intake of breath as everyone waited to see what Mrs Ogilvy was going to do next. Before she could speak, there was the crash of broken glass from one corner of the room and she whirled around to see a red-faced nurse, holding a hand to her mouth. “Nurse Walters! I’ve warned you a thousand times!” she snapped as she stalked across the ward… …

Joe felt a hand on his arm. ”Come,” said Pombal, pulling him away from Mrs Ogilvy. “Mad woman,” he said, tapping the side of head. ”No point trying to talk to her.”

Posted: **Mon Oct 04, 2021 8:24 pm**

Joe allows himself to be led away by Pombal, but keeps his eye on Mrs. Ogilvy: if there ever was a troubled soul, then surely it was she.

“The woman certainly dislikes you; care to explain why?” he asks his fellow priest.

Posted: **Mon Oct 04, 2021 10:56 pm**

Pombal shrugged. ”She has no time for religion,” he said. “Don’t know why,” he said.

He looked around. After the initial flurry of the arrival of the ambulance, things seemed to have quietened down somewhat. ”Drink?” asked Pombal and he turned and trudged in the direction of the main door.

Posted: **Tue Oct 05, 2021 8:23 am**

“Ah go on then,” replies Joe, following the priest.

Posted: **Tue Oct 05, 2021 9:11 pm**

Pombal lead Joe out of the hospital and into what remained of a walled orchard off to one side. A row of tents sheltered by the wall, and Pombal lead the way to a small tent at the end, where a couple of upturned crates provided seating. As the French priest searched in his tent for a drink, Joe could see a burial party working in the distance, watched from on high by ravens in the trees, cawing loudly.

Pombal emerged from his tent with a bottle and two tin mugs. ”Calvados!” he said with a flourish, pulling the cork from the bottle and splashing a generous measure into each of the mugs. “À la vôtre,” he said, passing Joe a mug and raising his own in salute.

Posted: **Tue Oct 05, 2021 9:37 pm**

As Joe raises his mug in a toast, he hears something.

Posted: **Tue Oct 05, 2021 11:18 pm**

If Joe didn’t know any better, he could sworn that he could hear a prayer in amongst the cawing of the ravens.

Posted: **Wed Oct 06, 2021 8:01 am**

Joe frowns, tilting his head to one side.

“Saints preserve us,” he whispers. “I swear those ravens are praying!”

He looks at Pombal, utterly bemused.

“Am I going mad?”

Posted: **Wed Oct 06, 2021 8:26 am**

Pombal took a drink of his calvados and cocked an ear. He glanced at Joe. ”You hear it too?” he asked. He shook his head. “It is not natural,” he said.

Posted: **Wed Oct 06, 2021 4:06 pm**

“It’s certainly very strange; can’t be actual prayers, surely? When did it start happening?”

Joe asks, trying to make out the actual words of the prayer (if indeed there are any, and it isn’t just his fraught imagination).

Posted: **Wed Oct 06, 2021 6:27 pm**

There were no words that Joe could make out, but he recognised the cadence of a prayer.

”Not here one day. Here the next,” said the French priest with a shrug.

Posted: **Wed Oct 06, 2021 9:12 pm**

“Maybe we should take a look. Even in these terrible times, perhaps miracles can still happen.”

Joe can barely fathom what’s going on, but secretly hopes that a closer inspection of the birds will prove that there’s nothing out of the ordinary, because, despite his faith, he finds the idea of witnessing a miracle somehow terrifying.

Posted: **Thu Oct 07, 2021 10:38 pm**

As Joe and Pombal cross the ground in the direction of the ravens, the men in the burial party stop to watch. As they approach, the ravens turn their heads to study the two priests, one or two at first, but then more until they are all staring in their direction.

Standing under the tree looking up, Joe is struck by the malevolent intelligence in their coal-black eyes as the birds stare down at them… …

Posted: **Fri Oct 08, 2021 9:35 am**

Never the most observant of people, Joe is too bewildered to notice anything specific about this whole bizarre situation.

“I swear they’re looking at us… I think we should lay off the Calvados… I want to shoo them away, but somehow feel no good would come of it!”

He stops, suddenly aware that the burial party might overhear him. He turns and nods to them in greeting.

“Solemn work, aye lads?” he calls.

Posted: **Fri Oct 08, 2021 11:27 am**

Before the men could reply, the raven took off into air with an almighty ‘CAW!’ which seemed to shake the very ground upon which they stood, causing both Pombal and Joe to flinch.

As the birds flew off in the direction of the front line, the priests could hear the mocking laughter of the soldiers at the burial ground. The Sergeant Major overseeing the work detail snapped an abrupt order and they quietened down, before he turned to them and asked, ”Is everything all right, Fathers?”

Posted: **Fri Oct 08, 2021 12:24 pm**

Though somewhat discombobulated, Joe quickly pulls himself together and forces a somewhat rueful smile at the Sergeant Major.

“Funny how silly little things can make us jump my son,” he says. “Do those birds often give you an audience?”

Posted: **Fri Oct 08, 2021 12:49 pm**

”More so of late, Father,” replied the Sergeant Major. He turned to look in the direction in which the birds had flown. ”They eat carrion so I guess they’re just waiting for an unguarded moment,” he said, nodding towards the shrouded corpses on the back of a nearby cart. ”Not that we give them one, mind! These lads have suffered enough without those damned birds picking them over, if you’ll excuse my language!”

Posted: **Sat Oct 09, 2021 10:56 am**

“Your dedication does you credit,” Joe replies. “But your task is not an easy one. Should you and your men ever feel the need to unburden yourselves, you can come to me.”

He smiles wryly.

“Even if you’re a heathen Anglican: I’m not talking a full confessional; more like a sympathetic ear - albeit somewhat cauliflower-shaped.”

He nods towards the corpse-cart.

“Mind if I pray for these poor souls for a moment?”

Posted: **Sat Oct 09, 2021 3:09 pm**

”“I’ll be sure to tell the lads, Father. Sadly, not all are believers - war can do that to a man.” He looked abashed on their behalf, then cleared his throat and turned to his men.

”Caps off!” he barked. ”Padre wants to say a few words.” The men ceased digging and stood leaning on the shovels, removed their caps and waited for Joe to speak.

Posted: **Sat Oct 09, 2021 3:18 pm**

Joe clears his throat.

“Eternal rest, grant unto them, O Lord,” he begins. “And let perpetual light shine upon them…”

He continues like this for a short while, before nodding to the Segeant Major that he and his men can proceed.

Posted: **Sun Oct 10, 2021 12:29 am**

”Thanks, Father. Right then, back to work you lot!” said the Sergeant Major.

As the men resumed their labours, Joe could get a better look at his surroundings. Where the men were being buried was what once would have been the graveyard of the local church that backed onto the orchard. The church itself had been badly damaged, with little standing above shoulder height. In addition to the graves being dug by the burial party, fresh graves in the graveyard attested to the losses suffered at the hospital.

Posted: **Sun Oct 10, 2021 9:31 am**

Depressed by all the fresh graves, Joe shudders at the thought of all those lost lives.

“Tragedy,” he says simply. “C’mon Pombal, one more drink and then I’m going to get some rest.”

As he turns to leave, a thought strikes him.

“So what brought you here? If you’re not officially on the books I mean. What’s your story?”

Posted: **Sun Oct 10, 2021 11:02 am**

”My church,” Pombal replied simply, pointing at the ruins. “I came here in 1914. All my parishioners have gone. Moved away or… …” He looked at the graveyard and shrugged.

”I stay to help at the hospital.”

Posted: **Sun Oct 10, 2021 11:30 am**

Joe nods, suspecting as much.

“Mrs. Ogilvy seems to dislike you; seems to dislike everyone in fact. How so?”

Posted: **Sun Oct 10, 2021 11:13 pm**

”Her husband was killed,” said Pombal, looking towards the front line. ”She grieves for him.”

Posted: **Mon Oct 11, 2021 10:57 am**

Joe shakes his head sadly and sighs.

“C’mon; Calvados.”

Clapping Pombal on the shoulder, he trudges back.

Posted: **Mon Oct 11, 2021 7:18 pm**

As they trudged back towards hospital, Joe could see a group of soldiers being escorted inside by one of the nurses. Moments later, he saw Gurdip Dal emerge, pushing a handcart upon which a body in a shroud was lain.

From the roof of the hospital, a solitary raven looked on.

Posted: **Tue Oct 12, 2021 9:26 am**

Watching from afar, Joe whispers another prayer, so that the soul of the poor individual under the shroud will ascend to Heaven.

He also keeps a wary eye on the raven. Somehow the corvids have rattled him, whether they ‘pray’ or not.

“It’s almost as if they’re waiting to claim the souls…” he mutters.

Posted: **Tue Oct 12, 2021 9:54 am**

The raven watched Joe and Pombal as they made there way over the French priest’s tent, where Pombal poured a couple of glasses of calvados and sat down on one of the packing crates.

He took a drink then looked in the direction of the front line, where the big guns fired with a regular ‘crump, crump, crump’ sound.

”Do you think the war will ever end, Father?” he asked.

Posted: **Tue Oct 12, 2021 11:16 am**

“It’s gotta end sometime,” replies Joe after some consideration.

“The Hun’s latest push is running out of steam from what I can gather, so it’s only a matter of time before the boot’s on the other foot.”

“Either that or everyone collapses in a bloody, exhausted heap.”

He raises his mug in an ironic toast.

“To victory.”

Posted: **Tue Oct 12, 2021 1:51 pm**

”To the triumph of good over evil,” replied Pombal. ”Speaking of which… ...” He stared in the direction of the corpse hut, where Gurdip Dal had emerged. The one-armed man stood staring at the raven on the hospital roof, then turned his gaze upon the two priests.

Posted: **Tue Oct 12, 2021 2:13 pm**

Joe frowns. “Dal? Evil? What makes you say that? Sure, the porter may seems a little odd staring at ravens and no doubt the fellow is a heathen, but he seemed personable enough earlier. What has he done?”

Posted: **Tue Oct 12, 2021 7:23 pm**

”He is not a follower of the Lord,” replied Pombal, and then he leant over and spat on the floor.

Posted: **Wed Oct 13, 2021 11:00 am**

“Hm,” Joe nods. The priest was right of course; only followers of the True Faith would be given a place in Heaven after all.

However, the porter, like thousands of of his race, was serving his King and empire. Although King and empire might not be something the Irishman was particularly fond of, he respected those that would fight and die for it.

“Godless or not, the man has clearly made sacrifices though. He has lost an arm.”

Posted: **Wed Oct 13, 2021 11:49 am**

Pombal sat back on his crate and looked at Joe. ”One arm? Two arms? Still godless heathen!” he said.

Posted: **Wed Oct 13, 2021 6:30 pm**

“Aye, well you’re right, sure enough,” Joe replies with little conviction.

He drains his mug before handing it back to Pombal with a nod of thanks.

“Savages the lot of ‘em. Now, I must take my leave and rest my weary head: long day tomorrow I dare say. Thank you for an interesting evening.”

Posted: **Thu Oct 14, 2021 10:31 pm**

Back in his attic bedroom, Joe found a tin cup, a flask of tea and jam sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper on the storage locker by his bed. A raw onion had been perched carefully on top…

Posted: **Fri Oct 15, 2021 7:53 pm**

Sitting on the bed, Joe whispers a prayer of thanks (for it never pays to be ungrateful). Then he unwraps the sandwich and tucks in, leaving the onion to absorb any germs (as they are said to do).

Sandwich eaten he sits back a little, cradling his mug of tea. Reflecting on the weirdness of the evening’s events and still perturbed by the ‘praying’ ravens, he quietly hums a hymn to himself and starts to unwind.

Posted: **Sat Oct 16, 2021 12:19 am**

Posted: **Sat Oct 16, 2021 9:41 am**

Posted: **Sat Oct 16, 2021 5:01 pm**

The hospital was quieter when Joe emerged from his room. The light was failing, the orderlies were securing sacking at the windows to block out any lights and the nursing staff were settling the patients for the evening.

An orderly looked puzzled when Joe asked about a chapel, but then gave him directions to a small room near the rear door. It looked like a former boot room, cramped and small. Tucked behind the door was a fairly small wooden shrine with hand-painted triptych panels, with flickering candles in front. The shrine was completed by an effigy of the Virgin Mary and a rather battered looking gold monstrance.

Posted: **Sat Oct 16, 2021 7:46 pm**

As Joe crosses himself before the effigy, something catches his eye.

Posted: **Sat Oct 16, 2021 8:47 pm**

Joenoticed that a symbol had been scratched into one panel of the triptych, deep enough so that the lighter wood beneath the painting could be seen.

The symbol comprised a circle, an angled line and two parallel lines connected by a curved line.

Posted: **Sat Oct 16, 2021 8:53 pm**

“What’s this?” mutters Joe to himself.

Intrigued, he compares the symbol to the subject of the paintings.

Posted: **Sat Oct 16, 2021 9:23 pm**

The paintings were of a typical triptych scene, showing the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. There wasn’t any obvious link between the paintings and the crudely carved symbol.

Posted: **Sun Oct 17, 2021 10:36 am**

Joe frowns. Does the symbol ring any bells? If not, he’ll dismiss it as graffiti and retire for the night.

Posted: **Sun Oct 17, 2021 11:49 pm**

The symbol wasn’t familiar to Joe and with the sky starting to darken, it was time to turn in. He walked back through the hospital - the moans of the wounded and the disturbed mostly a murmur now - and retired to his bed in his attic room. Even the Jerries seemed to have taken the night off, with only sporadic gunfire disturbing the peace.

Posted: **Mon Oct 18, 2021 8:34 am**

Joe begins to nod off.

Posted: **Tue Oct 19, 2021 11:25 pm**

Wednesday, 11 June 1918. 6.30am.
Field Hospital No.5, Coupru, Northern France

Joe slept soundly, despite the occasional rumble of an artillery barrage from the front, until one shell - whether fired by accident or design - screamed overhead and exploded some distance away.

Once the noise of the explosion died away, he could hear the sound of the hospital staff moving around and the patients starting to stir.

Posted: **Wed Oct 20, 2021 12:30 pm**

It takes all of Joe’s nerve not to flinch when the shell screams overhead (and not to reach for a bottle afterwards).

Performing his ablutions as best he can given the primitive circumstances, he dresses and heads for the makeshift chapel to make ready for Morning Prayer.

Posted: **Fri Oct 22, 2021 7:47 pm**

Joe passed a number of stretchers in the corridors. It seemed that a number of patients hadn’t made it through the night. The one-armed Indian orderly was knelt by one, sewing the shroud shut single-handedly.

In the shrine, in front of the panel with the scratched symbol, were sat half a dozen small urns with earth inside.

Posted: **Fri Oct 22, 2021 8:37 pm**

“What the devil is this?”

Somewhat bemused that someone would leave such things lying around in his chapel, Joe begins to move the urns away from the shrine, placing the on the floor near the door.

“These can’t be people’s ashes, as the poor folk are being sewn up and buried and I’ve yet to see an incinerator,” he mutters to himself as he works.

Posted: **Fri Oct 22, 2021 11:26 pm**

Although Catholic, Joe has seen enough urns to know that these don’t contain human remains. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that they were filled with soil.

Posted: **Sun Oct 24, 2021 8:36 am**

Intrigued (if still rather annoyed), Joe inspects the urns and the soil inside them.

Posted: **Sun Oct 24, 2021 10:21 am**

The soil was freshly turned, not compact. The urns had nothing distinguished about them, merely being small hand-turned clay pots.

Posted: **Sun Oct 24, 2021 10:49 am**

“Hm, well whatever these things are doing here, they’ll have to be shifted before Prayers,” Joe mutters to himself.

Seeking assistance, he heads back to the corridors in search on an orderly.

Posted: **Sun Oct 24, 2021 12:10 pm**

Out in the corridor, any orderlies Joe could see were engaged in dealing with patients, removing those who had passed in the night and feeding those who had survived. The sound of ambulance bells from outside of the hospital suggested that another influx of patients was imminent.

He saw Major Parker at the other end of the corridor, directing his staff about their business. The Major looked over in his direction. “Good morning, Father O’Toole,” he said, with a brusque nod of his head.

Posted: **Sun Oct 24, 2021 5:11 pm**

“Good morning Major,” Joe replies. “May I distract you for a moment?”

“It appears someone has been carving symbols on the altar in my little chapel, while there’s been a bunch of urns filled with soil, of all things, deposited in there overnight.”

“I know these are trifles in the great scheme of things, but could you put the word out that the chapel is sacrosanct and not to be used as an artist’s garret or storage cupboard?”

“Now I have to find someone to help me shift the urns, rather than start making myself useful.”

Posted: **Mon Oct 25, 2021 12:19 am**

Parker rolled his eyes and glared at Joe. “Urns?! Soil?!” he snapped, with an angry shake of his head. ”I really am beginning to ask myself if you’re the right man for the job! You’re in a hospital, where we are overrun with wounded and dying men and your greatest concern is that someone has left some urns in your chapel?! For goodness’ sake, do you really think that’s the most pressing matter I have to deal with this morning?!”

“Half a dozen men died last night - I suggest praying for their immortal souls and reflecting upon your position here would be the better use of your time!”

Posted: **Tue Oct 26, 2021 8:08 am**

Joe’s knuckles whiten as he clenches his fists. There was a time when such a response would have resulted in a broken nose.

Thankfully such times are long gone.

Hands unclenching, he nods.

“You’re right of course.”

Posted: **Tue Oct 26, 2021 5:25 pm**

Suitably chastened, Joe returns to the makeshift chapel. Knowing that everyone else has better things to do, he begins the task of dragging the urns into a corner away from the altar. At least that way, those who wish to attend Morning Prayers can do so unimpeded.

Assuming this task is completed he, on a whim, draws a cross in the top of the soil in each urn before turning to the altar to pray.

Posted: **Tue Oct 26, 2021 10:13 pm**

On finishing his prayers, Joe could hear the tempo of the hospital picking up. Looking out into the corridor, he could see orderlies moving about, carrying ration tins into the rooms to feed the patients, while the nurses carried bustled efficiently backwards and forwards, checking on their charges.

Posted: **Tue Oct 26, 2021 10:18 pm**

"Time to administer to my flock," says Joe, and follows the staff into the wards.

Posted: **Tue Oct 26, 2021 10:58 pm**

Posted: **Tue Nov 09, 2021 8:31 pm**

Joe found himself alone in the chapel once more.

Posted: **Wed Nov 10, 2021 10:41 am**

Sighing deeply, Joe prays that the Lord will assuage whatever demons are driving Mrs. Ogilvy, as well a a heartfelt request to grant him patience in dealing with the woman.

Then, muttering about vandals and how some people have no respect, he draws a copy of the sigil (assuming a pencil and paper are to hand) for Alex.

Deciding that he’s better get on with his duties, he decides to take a tour of the wards, planning to clean out the chapel later.

Posted: **Thu Nov 11, 2021 1:44 am**

As Joe emerged from the chapel and into the corridor, he could see that the bodies of those who had died were being wheeled away, presumably to the corpse shed outside.

At the end of the corridor, looking through a circular window about the door, a large raven ‘cawed’ loudly as it observed Joe.

Posted: **Thu Nov 11, 2021 7:35 pm**

“God bless you too!” exclaims Joe, jumping at the sound of the cawing bird.

Collecting himself, he resolves to accompany the orderlies to the corpse shed. Not only can he pray over the mortal remains gathered therein, but also provide some spiritual succour to the orderlies as they carry out their grim task.

Posted: **Fri Nov 12, 2021 1:08 am**

Joe followed the orderlies out to the shed, where he found five shrouded forms laid out on the cart to be taken for burial. From behind, he heard a sudden flutter of wings as the raven that had observed him through the window took off and joined a quartet of its fellow birds, staring down at him from the rooftop.

Posted: **Fri Nov 12, 2021 12:52 pm**

Joe mutters a prayer over the shrouded forms, before turning to the orderlies.

“Do those ravens often accompany you?” he asks.

Posted: **Fri Nov 12, 2021 3:29 pm**

The nearest orderly was pale-faced young soldier with a noticeable tremor. He squinted up at the ravens on the roofline and said, ”I don’t rightly know, father. They just appeared one day and they’ve been here ever since.”

Posted: **Fri Nov 12, 2021 10:03 pm**

"I hope they don't bother you too much my son - they certainly seem to take an unnatural interest in the proceedings, don't they?"

Joe claps a fatherly hand on the man's shoulder.

"As your chaplain, is there anything I can do for you and your comrades? Your work can't be easy."

Posted: **Sat Nov 13, 2021 10:03 pm**

”Beggin’ your pardon, Father,” interrupted one of the other orderlies, ”But if you’ve got any influence with them that doles out the rum ration, that would be great!” The young lad smiled weakly as his fellow orderlies burst out laughing.

Posted: **Sat Nov 13, 2021 10:31 pm**

“I may be a priest, but I’m not a miracle worker!” Joe chuckles. “You’ll just have to make do with my prayers, but if I can get hold of a bottle I’ll let you know.”

He pauses for a moment.

“I don’t suppose any of you lads know about the tubs of soil that have been dumped in the chapel do you? Seems an odd place to leave them.”

Posted: **Sat Nov 13, 2021 11:53 pm**

The men exchanged puzzled looks and then shook their heads. ”Not us, Father,” replied the orderly. ”But we could move them for you, if you like?”

Posted: **Sun Nov 14, 2021 11:36 am**

“Ah bless you my son, that’d be grand,” Joe beams. “Just don’t get yourself into trouble for doing so.”

Posted: **Mon Nov 15, 2021 11:23 am**

The orderlies trooped back inside the hospital after Joe. One was collared by the one-armed Indian orderly that Joe had seen earlier, but the remaining orderlies followed him down to the chapel, crowding in with him. ”Are these them?” asked one of the orderlies, pointing to the urns filled with earth.

Posted: **Mon Nov 15, 2021 11:59 am**

“Yes, that’s them,” Joe replies.

Posted: **Mon Nov 15, 2021 5:00 pm**

One of the orderlies picked up one of the urns and immediately pulled a face. Blinking violently, he put it down sharply, holding his sleeve against his face. ”Cor blimey! That stinks! What’s in there?”

Posted: **Mon Nov 15, 2021 5:12 pm**

“I assumed it was soil,” Joe replies. “I hope it’s not night soil though.”

Posted: **Tue Nov 16, 2021 4:35 pm**

The orderly moved the urn closer to his face to smell the contents again, before coughing and pushing it away. ”That’s grave dirt!” he exclaimed. ”If the body isn’t buried in a coffin and starts to rot, it smells like this when you dig it up again. Not intentional, you understand - it’s an occupational hazard digging graves out here!” His comrades nodded in agreement.

”Not sure what it’s doing in here, though. Have you fallen out with someone, Father?”

Posted: **Tue Nov 16, 2021 9:13 pm**

“I hope not!” Joe protests. “I only just got here yesterday!”

He sighs, deeply flustered and bemused.

“Who the hell would leave tubs of grave soil lying around a hospital, let alone in a house of God? Listen, would you fellas mind getting rid of these? Oh, and set ip a cot or bedroll? I think I’ll bunk down in here tonight.”

Posted: **Wed Nov 17, 2021 1:28 pm**

Posted: **Wed Nov 17, 2021 1:41 pm**

No idea!

Posted: **Fri Nov 19, 2021 1:39 am**

”Sure, no problem, Father,” replied the orderly, and he and his comrades picked up the urns to move them outside. Another headed up to Joe’s room in the roof and returned shortly with his cot, which they just about managed to squeeze into the chapel, although it left very little space for anything else.

”Will that be all, Father?” asked the orderly. ”Otherwise we’ll get on with burying those poor lads who died last night.”

Posted: **Fri Nov 19, 2021 10:23 am**

“Aye, that’ll be all fellas; God bless you for your help,” Joe replies.

That done, he decides to continue his rounds, starting with the three Americans.

Posted: **Fri Nov 19, 2021 10:42 am**

Posted: **Sat Nov 20, 2021 11:38 pm**

Posted: **Sun Nov 28, 2021 3:49 pm**

Leaving the Americans to recover, Father Joe continues to tour the rounds. No doubt he will bump into Pombal, and so keeps an eye out for him.

In addition, he stays on the alert for anyone carrying urns or muddy shovels…

Posted: **Tue Nov 30, 2021 1:05 am**

Joe spent more an hour moving around the wards, talking to the wounded (and avoiding Mrs Ogilvy). Some of them were upbeat about their situation but others were morose, cursing their luck and their crippling wounds. It may be a ‘Blighty’ wound that would see them sent back to England away from the fighting, but they feared for their future prospects.

One of the orderlies brought him a couple of tea and he was able sit down on a chair in the corridor. He was still to find Pombal, however!

Posted: **Tue Nov 30, 2021 8:48 pm**

Puzzled, Joe heads out to Pombal's abode, where they shared a glass the night before.

Posted: **Wed Dec 01, 2021 2:02 pm**

The half-dozen ravens on the roofline eyed Joe beadily as he made his way across to Pombal’s tent. The fire outside was out and the flaps of the tent were all tied up.

Posted: **Wed Dec 01, 2021 7:11 pm**

Studiously ignoring the ravens, Joe stalks over to Pombal’s tent.

“Father Pombal? Are you there?” he calls.

If there’s no answer, he’ll attempt to untie the tent flaps.

Posted: **Thu Dec 02, 2021 9:16 am**

There was no answer from Pombal’s tent so Joe was able to untie the flaps and look inside. There was a cot bed, a chest and a camp table and chair. The smell of body odour and cheap brandy was strong and the inside of the tent was a mess, with the priest’s possessions scattered everywhere. It was impossible to tell whether Pombal lived this way or if someone had been in there and rifled through his belongings.

Posted: **Thu Dec 02, 2021 9:42 pm**

While not the most observant of people, Joe tries to make sense of the mess. Can he see anything conspicuously missing, signs of a struggle or perhaps footprints or scuff marks?

Posted: **Fri Dec 03, 2021 1:14 am**

It seems to Joe that the French priest spends so much time dealing his flock that he has little time for such earthly matters as personal hygiene and tidiness. There doesn’t appear to be anything missing from his tent, except for Pombal himself.

Posted: **Fri Dec 03, 2021 9:47 am**

Muttering to himself about French hygiene, Joe exits the tent and carefully ties up the flaps.

Scanning the grounds for the missing priest, he heads for the church, figuring that’s the most likely place he’ll be if not at the hospital.

Posted: **Sat Dec 04, 2021 9:30 am**

Joe headed out in the direction of the church. The ground was damp and it was heavy going with mud sticking to his boots.

As he approached the church, he could see more clearly the damage it had sustained. The walls were broken down and were battered by shrapnel and pockmarked with bullet holes. It looked like some attempts had been made to clear some of the rubble, but still much remained, with the nave crisscrossed with fallen roof timbers.

Posted: **Sat Dec 04, 2021 7:50 pm**

Acutely aware that he should be administering to his ‘parishioners’, Joe doesn’t want to hang around for too long.

“Father Pombal!” he calls, carefully moving through the rubble of the church.

Posted: **Sun Dec 05, 2021 11:55 pm**

There was no reply to Joe’s call, except for a solitary raven flapping its wings noisily as it landed on the stone cill of a broken window.

Posted: **Mon Dec 06, 2021 6:51 pm**

Years spent in the confession booth makes Joe better at listening than looking…

Posted: **Tue Dec 07, 2021 12:51 am**

From up near where the ruins of the alter stood, there came a groaning sound… …

Posted: **Tue Dec 07, 2021 1:44 pm**

“Father Pombal?”

Joe rushes over to the ruined altar.

Posted: **Tue Dec 07, 2021 7:44 pm**

Behind the alter, the French priest was lying face down on the floor. He groaned again and tried to lift himself up but his hands just pushed ineffectually against the remains of the stone floor.

Posted: **Tue Dec 07, 2021 7:56 pm**

"Saints preserve us!" Joe exclaims as he rushes over to the recumbent priest. "Are you alright Father? What happened?"

He attempts to look the poor fellow over and help him up if his injuries (assuming he is indeed injured) allow.

Posted: **Thu Dec 09, 2021 12:33 am**

Clearly Pombal wasn’t in any state to talk, he merely groaned again and feebly pushed at the ground without the slightest effect.

Posted: **Thu Dec 09, 2021 10:17 pm**

Joe rushes over to Pombal and helps him to his feet.

“What happened man? Here, let me check you over.”

Posted: **Fri Dec 10, 2021 1:01 am**

Joe found his French counterpart to be a dead weight and lifting him off the floor wasn’t going to happen, but he did manage to sit him up to lean against the altar stone. Pombal muttered to himself in French as he shook his head groggily and Joe could see a large contusion at the base of his skull. ”What happened to me?” he asked.

Posted: **Tue Dec 14, 2021 12:06 pm**

“I found you lying on the floor, out cold,” Joe replies. “Can you stand? We’d better get you to the hospital to be looked at.”

“Can you remember anything?”

Posted: **Tue Dec 14, 2021 6:38 pm**

Pombal shook his head. ”I heard noise. Then…” He rubbed a lump on the back of his head.

Posted: **Tue Dec 14, 2021 7:00 pm**

“Were you hit by falling masonry I wonder?” wonders Joe, looking around for loose stonework.

“I sure hope no one clobbered you! What were you doing here anyway?” he asks.

Posted: **Wed Dec 15, 2021 1:22 am**

Posted: **Wed Dec 15, 2021 11:00 am**

Joe squints through the gloom of the ruined church.

Posted: **Wed Dec 15, 2021 11:53 am**

From where he stood behind the altar, Joe noticed that one of what at first glance appeared to be a carved stone panel stood slightly proud at one end. Furthermore, an arc etched in the debris suggested that the panel may open…

Posted: **Wed Dec 15, 2021 1:35 pm**

“Hello, what’s this?”

Joe examines the stone, attempting to swing it open.

Posted: **Wed Dec 15, 2021 2:03 pm**

”Crypt,” grunted Pombal shortly. As Joe pulled on the slab it swung outwards to reveal a space behind with a rusted ladder leading downwards.

Posted: **Wed Dec 15, 2021 10:15 pm**

“Well I didn’t see anyone coming out of here, so I reckon if anyone did hit you, then maybe they’re down there,” muses Joe, rolling up his sleeves.

“So it’s time to return the compliment. Not very priestly, I grant you…”

Posted: **Thu Dec 16, 2021 10:32 am**

There was no sound from the space below.

Posted: **Thu Dec 16, 2021 1:36 pm**

“I’m going to take a look,” Joe says to Pombal. “Are you up to keeping watch?”

Squaring his broad shoulders, the priest leans into the aperture.

Posted: **Thu Dec 16, 2021 6:22 pm**

Pombal nods weakly.

Posted: **Thu Dec 16, 2021 8:44 pm**

Joe grunts as he attempts to clamber through the gap, which seems a lot smaller close up.

Posted: **Fri Dec 17, 2021 1:30 am**

Joe just about managed to squeeze his body into the space under the alter and was able to find the steps down into the crypt below. It wasn’t a long climb, and he soon felt the stone flagstones of the floor beneath his feet.

The light from the aperture above was limited and he could barely see more than a handful of yards in any direction.

Posted: **Fri Dec 17, 2021 9:07 am**

Joe pauses, questioning the wisdom of plunging into the crypt without a torch.

He also wonders whether it is wise to leave a concussed Father Pombal on his own. Should he climb back up and get the fellow treated?

He stands still, listening out for any signs of movement before making a decision.

Posted: **Sat Dec 18, 2021 1:32 am**

Other than the distant ‘crump!’ of the artillery from the front line, all Joe could hear was the clicking of the talons of a crow perched on the broken wall of the church, studying him intently.

Posted: **Sat Dec 18, 2021 11:42 am**

“No one at home… At least I can put a stop to any shenanigans,” Joe tells the crow.

Shoving the stone slab back into place, he piles some rubble in front of it, before turning to assist Father Pombal.

“Come on, let’s get you looked at,”

Posted: **Sat Dec 18, 2021 7:00 pm**

With Pombal leaning heavily upon him, Joe made his way back to hospital.

As he approached the main door, the guard spotted him and rushed to his aid. “What happened, Father?!” he asked urgently. ”Has he been hit?!”

Posted: **Sat Dec 18, 2021 7:27 pm**

"I found him unconscious in the old church," Joe explains. "I don't know what happened, but it looks like he's taken a knock somehow. Help me take him inside please my son; he needs treatment."

Posted: **Mon Dec 20, 2021 1:22 am**

“I can’t leave my post, Father?!” said the soldier. ”Let me get you one of the orderlies!” He whistled and the one-armed orderly appeared in the hospital doorway, quickly moving to take the guard’s position supporting Pombal, who was clearly too woolly-headed to protest about the godless heathen laying hands upon him…

Dal grunted ”Follow me!” as he took Pombal’s not inconsiderable weight and lurched through the doors and into the hospital…

Play@YSDC

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