Contents (45)
- DULCE ET DECORUM EST
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- CONTENTS
He grabbed the boy’s arm. “We have to go now!”
The boy yanked free of the soldier’s grip and rocked faster. “Non, non, non,” he muttered with every sway forward. He squeezed his eyes closed again, sending fresh tears spilling down his round cheeks.
The young soldier knelt before the boy. “Please,” he begged. “I have to get home to my family.”
The boy stopped rocking and looked up at him. “Famille?”
The young soldier nodded. “Famille.” He pictured each of their faces.
Dad. Mum. Letitia. Charlotte. Tommy.
Taking the frightened boy’s hand, the young soldier helped him to his feet. Farther down the German line, a howitzer cannon fired, and the French boy froze. His hands flew to his bare head as his wide eyes frantically searched the trench for a helmet.
The young soldier rubbed a shaky hand over the boy’s messy hair. “Everything’s going to be all right,” he said, taking off his helmet and securing it on the boy’s head. “I promise.”
Then the two climbed the ladder.
EPILOGUE
THOMAS’S INJURIES EARNED him a one-way ticket to Dover—and an honorable discharge. Two months after the detonation of the mines beneath Messines Ridge, he hobbled down the dirt road to his family home and prayed to find that his brother had returned during his absence. But James never returned home.
The Great War raged on for seventeen months after the Battle of Messines, and though the British military commended the tunnelers for the successful execution of their mission, they were not asked to repeat it. Tanks and planes were mobilized for the rest of the war, breaking up years of entrenched fighting and making the tunnelers obsolete. Some were sent home. Most were sent to the front lines.
Weeks after the Allies and Central Powers signed the Treaty of Versailles, the Sullivans received an official letter stating that James’s status had been changed from missing in action to killed in action. No details were provided, and no remains were recovered. Despite Thomas having escaped the tunnels of the Western Front, his mind remained trapped beneath no-man’s-land. At night, he could still hear the enemy clawing at the clay walls and feel the tremble of explosions quaking through the earth. When summer storms swept in from the North Sea and thunder cracked across the sky, Thomas scrambled for cover. His mum would find him huddled beneath the kitchen table, cradling his head and crying.
He never returned to the coal mines. The mine supervisor promised a job would be waiting for him when he was ready, but Thomas knew he’d never be ready, so when his leg healed, he walked to the docks of Admiralty Harbour to look for work. The owners of the various shipping companies were eager to hire war veterans, so Thomas spent the next two years working the docks, learning as much as he could about boats and the shipping business. Every morning, when his head and body ached with fatigue and his leg throbbed with pain, he remembered James and the dream they’d shared, and forced himself to get out of bed.