Frederick shook his head. “I don’t have time for this.” Grabbing his coat and boots, he exited the dugout, but George’s voice chased him out of the tunnels.

“You’ve got plenty of time,” George yelled. “We all do! What you lack, Eton, is the courage!”

Frederick didn’t stop until he reached the front-line trenches. He didn’t care if Bagger caught him and transferred him from Ypres. In fact, he hoped Bagger did. Digging trenches in France would be preferable to working alongside George and the others for one more minute. At least in France he’d be above ground with real soldiers and have a chance to serve his country like a true Chamberlain. The thought quickened his pace and reinforced his resolve to get himself kicked off Bagger’s crew.

He came across a lone soldier standing sentry on a fire step in a parapet, watching the enemy lines through his rifle’s telescopic sight. The soldier’s profile looked familiar, and as Frederick drew closer, he recognized the sniper as William Gentry, an Eton graduate and the older brother of Edward Gentry, one of Frederick’s classmates.

“William?”

The soldier turned to face Frederick. He’d grown a mustache since Frederick had last seen him, but it was definitely the oldest Gentry brother. William smiled. “Frederick? What the bloody hell are you doing out here?”

“Fighting for crown and country, just like you.”

William scrutinized Frederick’s uniform. “I have to admit, you’re the last person I thought I’d ever see on the Western Front.”

The admission stung, far more than all of George’s barbs, but Frederick schooled his expression. He was an Eton student. He was a Chamberlain. And despite his age and lies, he was a British soldier.

William abandoned his rifle and held his hand out to Frederick. “Bloody good to see you, Chamberlain.”

Seeing a familiar face, a friendly familiar face, infused Frederick with a confidence George and the clay kickers had worked hard to stomp out of him. Frederick grabbed hold of William’s outstretched hand. “Good to be seen.” He squeezed tight and tugged William toward him with a quick, firm jerk.

William stumbled forward a step, but quickly recovered. With a shake of his head, he chuckled and looked Frederick up and down. “Does your father know you’re out here?”

“No. And I’d like to keep it that way—for now.”

“I understand. You’re not the first undergrad I’ve seen on the front line, and if this war continues to drag on, you won’t be the last. What unit are you with?”

“It’s classified. My unit is working on a top-secret mission.” It wasn’t really a lie. The clay kickers’ mission was a secret. So secret, in fact, even Frederick didn’t know what it was.

William’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to be a Chamberlain, even at the front.”

Before William could question him further, Frederick pointed to the older boy’s rifle. “I see the army recognized your marksmanship. I’m not surprised. Edward was always bragging about how you were the best marksman in your class.”