And he had been, until the next time. Dr Jefferson had told him that these ‘incidents’ were akin to nightmares but when you were awake, and that they would gradually get better. ‘Your mind is exhausted as well as your body, Major,’ he had said in his deep voice. ‘We don’t quite understand “shell shock” as they’re calling it, but it improves with time, take my word on that.’

‘I’m going mad?’

‘Far from it, Major. You’re as sane as me, if that’s any comfort.’ He’d smiled his warm smile and Alexander had tried to smile back. ‘Loud noises can set this off, or exhaustion or extreme agitation, things like that. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, no more than any other injury or illness as a result of this damn war. Just go easy on yourself, that’s all I’m saying. You’re doing very well after your operation and it was highly successful. If you continue to improve as you are doing we’ll soon have you out of bed and taking gentle walks.’

‘Can I take a gentle walk up North?’

‘All in good time, Major, all in good time. You understand that the loss of your arm, although difficult for you, is not my main concern? The shrapnel is vicious and it’s damaged your insides, it’s as simple as that. We’ll do all we can but it is time that’s the great healer, and that calls for patience from you. Even once you are home you will have to take it easy for a long time unless you want to be permanently affected. If you are sensible I see no reason why, in a year or so, you shouldn’t be back to full health.’

‘A year?’

‘Don’t look so horrified, Major. You made it back to England, that’s the main thing.’

Unlike poor Hopkins. He had thought about his batman a lot. He intended to write to the man’s elderly mother when he could and tell the old lady that Hopkins had been an excellent soldier and a fine person and that he had been proud to know him. It might help her in her grief. Hopkins had never married and Alexander knew his batman had thought a lot of his mother. He had been an only child and his father had died when he was a boy, so now the old lady had no one. Such sadness and grief in the world, such loneliness. How did people like Mrs Hopkins get through each day?

But he had Rose and the twins and Betsy. Dr Jefferson was right, he’d made it back and that was everything. The loss of his arm he could come to terms with, and if it took twelve months to gain his strength, so be it. He was alive and he had Rose waiting for him. What more could a man ask?

Chapter Thirty-Four