Ch.13a. All Unquiet on the Western Front (Alex, Lawrence, William)

[Philulhu]

Corporal Harris was indeed dead. His dull, lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling, until Nurse Zenna stepped forward and carefully lifted the blanket up over his face.

”Poor Corporal Harris,” she said. ”I thought he was on the mend, as well.”

There were not signs of foul play.

[Silver Priest]

"No signs of foul play. It appears he just took a turn for the worse." Alex declares gravely, though he can't deny he's a little relived this was apparently a natural death. He feels shame for feeling relief at that, but after what he's seen it's hard not to.

[Mr. Handy]

"What could have happened?" asks William.

[Bullfrog]

"I imagine it had to do with that got him put in here in the first place. The eyes aren't very far from the brain; maybe something went wrong there?" Lawrence blindly guessed, his own medical knowledge practically non-existent outside of what what commonly known. He couldn't help but feel a bit perturbed by the blind man- Harris's sudden death, even though he was just a step above a complete stranger; he seemed quite fine, yesterday.

[Philulhu]

”Perhaps he didn’t believe he’d get better?” said Carter, pushing himself up in bed and pulling at the dressing on his stump. ”Belief’s a powerful thing, eh nurse?”

Nurse Zenna shot him a warning look.”I don’t think that’s helpful at the moment Mr Carter, do you?” she said. ”I’ll ask one of the orderlies to remove Corporal Harris’ body and sort out a nice cup of tea for everyone. Does that sound all right?”

[Mr. Handy]

"I won't say no to a nice cup of tea," says William, who had gotten a taste for it on his recent trip to England. "I'm sure the doctors will be able to figure out what happened."

[Bullfrog]

"I suppose some tea couldn't hurt." Lawrence admits with a shrug, looking at the body of Corporal Harris with a feeling of distinct unease. "Do you think you could tell me about that dream while we wait, William? I'd like to take my mind off the dead man."

[Mr. Handy]

"It was the sort of thing you might expect," says William. "There were no other people in it - not living, anyway. I was walking through the battlefield. There were ravens on barbed wire, pockets of mustard gas, the stink of the dead in various states of decomposition. I stepped on a bone at the end, and the ravens all took off as one after it snapped, and then I woke up when a shell passed overhead in the real world."

[Silver Priest]

"Odd dream. But we are in a stressful situation, so I wouldn't think too much of it." Alex advises. "But keep an eye out for anything unusual."

"In the meantime, we should plan our next move. I'm not sure how long we'll be given 'lead' as it were.

[Philulhu]

An orderly entered with a flask of tea. With apparent indifference for the late Corporal Harris, he placed the flask at the foot of his bed and dumped a haversack of tin mugs between the dead man’s legs. Straightening them up, he poured out four measures of tea and passed them around, before packing up and leaving the room again.

Moments later, a tall, imposing and stern-faced faced priest stepped into the room.

[Mr. Handy]

"Good morning, Father," says William, between sips of tea.

[Bullfrog]

"I'm afraid you came in at a bad time, Father, though I don't think there's any good times here." Lawrence says, pointedly trying to ignore the corpse only a few beds away from him. He quickly drains his tea in one large sip, never really being the refined sort; he was just a farmer, after all.

[Silver Priest]

Alex remembers his manners and drinks the tea daintily, though it hardly strikes him as Earl Grey. "It is a tragedy, perhaps more so because it is so expected-- the orderly paid him no mind. He must have seen so many dead bodies in his time here."

[jp1885]

The priest sighs, crossing himself as his eyes alight on the deceased soldier.

“Ah, I suppose when you’ve seen so much death, one more doesn’t add much to the tally,” he mutters in an Irish brogue, tinged with the hard edge of a New Yorker.

His stern features break into a grim smile.

“Fortunately that hasn’t happened to me yet, having only spent one night here so far.”

He extends a large, calloused hand.

“Father Joe O’Toole. Judging by your accents, you fellas with the AEF I presume?”

[Silver Priest]

Alex takes the good Father's hand.

"Alex Re--Richards. We're actually journalists covering the front."

[Bullfrog]

"You can just call me Larry. Those two are the real war correspondents," Lawrence says, gesturing towards William and Alex, who he knew would be much better at lying about being journalists than he would.
"I'm just their assistant. They needed someone tough, and I was both willing and available."

[Mr. Handy]

"William Preston," says William, shaking the priest's hand. "Good to meet you, Father O'Toole. I just wish it were under better circumstances."

[jp1885]

“Journalists eh?” replies Joe, somewhat surprised. “What brings you this close to the front? Forgive me for sounding uncharitable, but I’d’ve thought you’d be in Paris, making stuff up like most of your type seem to do.”

[Philulhu]

Outside in the corridor, hammering could be heard as an orderly affixed a ‘Burns Ward’ sign above the door, while Nurse Zenna entered with a large dispenser of Aloe Vera…

[Mr. Handy]

"It's a terrible shame that people do that," says William. "If you want the real story, you have to go where it is."