Forget-Me-Nots in September

by Clare Revell

  A handwritten note was wrapped around a packet of toothpaste and a new toothbrush. Hey there! Don’t eat all the sweets at once. I’m going to the bookshop at the end of the week and will get you a nice soppy rom/com or maybe chick lit. LOL. No seriously, I’ll find something I hope you’ll like. Enjoy.

  Bev grinned. How could she possibly fit so much into the one box? Tucking the box under his bed, he headed down to the common room with Elf. The rest of the team sat on the chairs and floor opening their mail. “Hey,” he said. “Look what I’ve got.” He held up Elf to a host of cheers. “Unit mascot, perhaps? You blokes have been saying for weeks we needed one.”

  “Great idea, Boss,” Smudge said. “Give him here.”

  Bev tossed him over. “Just don’t hurt him. He’s mine.”

  “I know.” Smudge turned him over and then reached into a box on the shelf. He pulled out a spare unit patch and pinned it to Elf’s shirt with a safety pin.

  Bev shook his head. The antics of his unit never ceased to amuse him, yet they followed him with unswerving loyalty and more than a sense of duty.

  “There, now he’s one of us, look.” He made Elf salute. “I promise to do everything the Boss tells me. But only after he’s said it half a dozen times.”

  Bev grinned. “Give him back.” He caught Elf and tucked him under his arm. “As you were. I need to go and tell his previous owner about Elf’s new job. Oh, he needs a rank. Any suggestions for what rank we give him?”

  Smudge grinned. “Higher than you, boss. Hey why don’t we make him a four start general and put the Brigadier out of a job?”

  Bev rolled his eyes, not needing to say anything.

  “Nah, make him a private,” Smudge decided. “He can have candy duty.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Bev trotted back to his office, trying to dispel the feeling of disquiet hanging over the base. It was quiet. Far quieter than normal. He pulled over his laptop and logged into the ebluey site. He typed fast. His gut was telling him something was out of place and that was never a good sign.

  Hi, Jude. Just a quick note to say thank you for the parcel. Mail call just came and I’m staggered at how much you managed to fit in one box. Thank you so much. The unsettled feeling in his stomach grew and tightened. He typed faster. How did you know I needed toothpaste? Someone borrowed mine night before last and I haven’t seen it since. Base shop was out, I checked. Private Elf, to give him his new name, has been adopted as the unit mascot. He’s cute. And he’s promised to do everything I ask him. Hopefully the first time not the tenth.

  Alarms began blaring. Bev’s stomach knotted. He hated being right. Gotta go. Thanks again. Bev.

  He hit send and slammed the laptop closed, standing in the same movement. Shouts and the sounds of gunfire came from outside as he ran to the door. He prayed for safety as he sprinted for the armory.

  ~*~

  Jude took a rare day off and logged onto her social media account to find a friend request from Bev. She checked the MOD guidelines and once she’d assured herself it was fine to do so, accepted the request. She took a few minutes to look over his profile. He looked nothing like she’d imagined. His hair was dark blonde and not a typical military cut. He had brown eyes, a boyish grin, tanned skin and broad shoulders. His profile picture was him standing by a waterfall, wearing a white tee-shirt declaring I’m Free!

  She headed into town and finished shopping for the next box. She stood in the post office and packed it, before sealing and posting it. This time the handwritten note included her e-mail addy. Getting into the car, she flicked on the radio.

  “…scattered reports, as yet unconfirmed of an attack on Camp Reston in the Middle East. All contact with the base has been lost. Heavy shelling is believed to be happening in the area. We’ll bring you more on this story as it develops.”

  Jude swallowed hard, feeling sick. Camp Reston. That was where she sent Bev’s parcels. She prayed constantly as she drove home, asking for safety and preservation and protection for all the soldiers and airmen out there. Keep him safe out there. Keep them all safe.

  2

  Bev leant against the wall of the hospital block. Blood soaked into his shirt and trousers. Operation Minimize was being announced over the tannoy. The base was on lockdown. The only thing going in or out would be med-evac flights. With the mess out there he estimated it would be at least two days before it was lifted, maybe more.

  His gaze never left the busy theatre where the medics were working on one of his men. Ten wounded—three critically. An ache like he’d never known built inside him, and he knew if he didn’t contain it, the ache would turn to rage and anger and a desire to march down to the prison block and personally execute the man responsible. But that wasn’t his way, wasn’t the right way to handle the situation.

  Steve appeared beside him. He looked just as tired and shocked as Bev felt. “Boss, are you hurt?”

  Bev shook his head. “No, Steve. None of this blood is mine.”

  “The brigadier is looking for you. I told him you were probably here.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go find him in a bit.” He moved over to the doctor and nodded through the window at Pete. “How is he?”

  “Stable, but we couldn’t save his leg. We’re sending him back to the UK on the next flight. You probably saved his life.”

  Bev nodded slowly. “Can I see him?”

  “One minute. If he asks about the others, don’t say anything. But I do need to brief you on their conditions, sir.”

  Bev held the doctor’s gaze. “Then don’t tell me until I come back out, sergeant. And that’s an order. Because I won’t lie to any of my men.” He didn’t even give the medic time to reply before he headed into the recovery room.

  Doped up on meds, wires, lines and blood everywhere, Pete looked at him. “Boss…”

  Bev kept his gaze on Pete’s face, not wanting to acknowledge the way the covers fell flat partway down the bed. “Doc says you’re going to make it.”

  “Thanks to you…”

  “Doing my job. You just go home, rest up and give that wife of yours a hug. That’s all the thanks I need.”

  “What about the others?”

  Bev shrugged. “Not heard yet. Better go, they only gave me a minute. Send us a postcard from Blighty.” He headed back into the corridor and faced the medic. “OK, Doc. How bad?”

  “Three dead, seven wounded.” He offered the report.

  Bev took it, fingers numb as he opened it. The names sent shockwaves of pain, anger and grief through every part of his body. His knees buckled, but he hid it by leaning against the wall. Two deep breaths later, he raised his eyes to the medic. “And the wounded?”

  “Airlifting them all home as soon as we can. First plane leaves in an hour.”

  “OK, I’ll get their kit boxed and ready to go with.”

  “I’ll do that,” Steve said. “I’ll get a couple of the lads to help. Be quicker that way.”

  “Thanks. I want the remaining unit in the crew room in two hours. No exceptions.” Bev tucked the report under his arm and trudged to the brigadier’s office, not bothering to change first. He tapped on the open door. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  Brigadier Hereford-Jones nodded. “I’m handling the media over this one. As you’re the unit commander, can you do the letters to the families?”

  “Yeah,” he said, hating that part of his job. “I’ll try to have them done for the first med-evac flight in an hour.”

  “Liaison are starting to inform the families now. But a handwritten letter never goes amiss in these circumstances.”

  “Is that all, sir? Only I need to change first…” Bev glanced down at his blood-soaked uniform.

  “No. Shut the door.”

  Bev did so, his heart in his boots. The smell of the dried blood on his hands and clothes turned his stomach. “Sir, with all due respect, I lost three of my men out there. The rest of the team need me and—”

  “Something like this is never easy,”
Brigadier Hereford-Jones spoke slowly. “A green on blue attack. We train these blokes, trust them, then they turn around and do this. You were right. I should have trusted your instincts.”

  “I could easily have been wrong.”

  “But you weren’t. At least we got him alive.”

  Bev nodded. “Sir, if you want the letters on that flight…”

  Brigadier Hereford-Jones nodded. “Go. I’d like to attend the unit debrief, if that’s all right.”

  “Sure.” Bev left the office, knowing that wasn’t a request. He showered quickly, leaving his clothes to soak in a bucket of cold water. Sitting at his desk, he struggled to write the three letters to the families of Smudge, Pixie and Rex.

  Only when he’d finished and handed them to a sergeant to place with the things going on the flight home, did he finally give in to his emotions and cry.

  ~*~

  Jude counted the three days as the longest of her life. Finally, the names of the dead soldiers were released. Bev wasn’t amongst them. Relief flooded her and she cried. Then she cried harder as guilt set in for feeling relieved. She read the unit of those killed. Bev’s unit. Tears fell harder as she tried to imagine what he was going through. The names of the injured hadn’t been released, they never were. She just prayed he wasn’t hurt.

  It was another three days before two letters arrived, both from Bev. The first one thanked her for the parcel and ended abruptly with the words gotta go. Had he been writing when whatever it was had happened? The second wasn’t much longer.

  Hi. Things got a little busy here. You probably heard about it on the news. I can’t talk about it, so please don’t ask. It’s chilly tonight. I might need that hat you sent soon. That’s the thing with deserts. Stupid hot during the day and freezing cold at night. So not looking forward to winter out here. Anyway I better get on. Few long days ahead. Got a repatriation ceremony to organize. I hate those. Bev.

  Jude cried as she read the letter. She’d seen those on the TV, but never attended one. Perhaps she should this time. Having found out what time the plane would arrive at RAF Brize Norton, she picked up the phone, dialing the number of her best friend Milly.

  “DI Jenson.”

  “Hi, it’s Jude.”

  “Hello…what’s up?” Concern flooded Milly’s voice.

  “You always did know me too well. Can you come to the repatriation ceremony with me tomorrow?”

  “Was one of them yours?”

  “No, but from his unit. I just feel I ought to go. The plane lands at twelve.”

  “I’ll pick you up at ten. I’ll clear it with the DCI now. He’ll understand.”

  “Thanks, Milly.”

  ~*~

  Bev walked slowly with five others, balancing the coffin, as they carried Smudge from the chapel out to the waiting plane, each of them in perfect step with the other. The entire base stood silent, flags at half-mast. Bev kept his eyes fixed ahead, his heart breaking a little further with every step.

  Then he stood with his men, saluting as one, as the plane turned and taxied. His eyes blurred as the plane took off, taking his friends on their final journey home. Once they were dismissed, he turned to the others, taking comfort in the fact they were as sad as he was.

  “Danni’s planning on meeting them,” Steve said. “She said it’d never gotten to her like this before. She said she was terrified, scared, relieved, guilty all in one go. It’s never been my unit before.”

  “Then you’re fortunate,” Bev said.

  “Have you lost men before?”

  “Last tour. You never get used to it and you never want to either.” He glanced up as a plane came in and landed.

  “You reckon that’s the new lot?”

  “Probably. Go get the others rounded up in the crew room and stick the kettle on. I want a word over a brew.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Ten minutes later, cup in hand and perched on the edge of a box, Bev looked over the group of men. “It hasn’t been an easy few days,” he began. “For any of us. If you need to talk then I’m here, or if you don’t want to talk to me, go and see the chaplain. It’s not compulsory, but the offer is there.”

  “Won’t it go on our records?” Jaffa asked.

  “Will that go on your record? That you watched three mates die and another seven get injured at the hands of a bloke we trained and trusted? And that you wanted to complain about how flaming unfair it is that the jerk who did this survived and Smudge, Pixie, and Rex didn’t? Or that Pete will never walk again because there wasn’t enough left of his legs to attach a prosthesis to?” Bev shook his head, sucking in a deep breath.

  The other six injured had been MP’s, rather than from his unit. “No, you won’t. A chat over coffee isn’t going in anyone’s record. Yes, this is the army, but we’re all human and we all miss them. They were family.” He raised his cup. “Smudge, Pixie, and Rex.”

  The others echoed it.

  Bev drank quietly, then his gaze fell on a parcel. It was covered in what he’d come to know as Jude’s trademark stickers. “When did that come?”

  “Earlier. You were busy so we put it here.” Steve tossed it to him.

  Bev opened it slowly. This one contained a paddling pool, bucket and spade, an umbrella hat, washing powder, three tins of hot dogs and a bottle of ketchup. He looked up at the faces of the men. “What can I say? She has a weird sense of humor. I’m sorry, if I’d known it’d contain stuff like this, I’d have opened it in private.”

  “But, Boss, what did Smudge love best?” Jaffa asked.

  Bev just sat there.

  “Barbecues on the beach,” Steve responded. “That parcel, rather than being mistimed, is about brilliant and has the most perfect timing and sense of propriety ever, I say. How about we blow up your pool, and have a party. One for the lads. Remember them our way.”

  Bev nodded. He pulled out the letter, sliding it into his pocket. Right at the bottom of the box was a small packet of flags for the castles and a packet of chewing gum. And a picture. Totally black, apart from one corner where the light was slowly dawning. Across the top was written, it’s always darkest just before dawn.

  He stood, knowing this would be almost as hard as the repatriation, but that his men needed it. One had to do whatever it took to survive.

  ~*~

  Jude stood with Milly outside the base on a hot July day. They’d parked in the village as the huge cargo plane had come overhead and landed. They walked down to the base. She was surprised there were so many people there. Men in uniform stood on guard by the gate. No one spoke; a strange hush pervaded the air.

  The main flag was at half-mast. Along the road stood many veterans with flags, members of the British Legion and currently serving, but off duty, men and women from all branches of the armed forces.

  Finally, the gates to the base opened. As one all the flags were lowered. Three cars, each containing a coffin covered in the Union Flag, each bearing the hat and ceremonial sword of the soldier, slowly moved through the gates, the undertaker walking in front of them. He’d walk the entire route from here to the hospital in Oxford.

  The cars paused as every single flag was lowered so it touched the ground. Flowers were placed on the roofs of the cars.

  Tears ran down Jude’s face, the lump in her throat growing with each passing second.

  Then the slow procession moved on. A ripple of applause began by the gate and spread, gathering momentum.

  Only when the cars were out of sight did people begin to move.

  Jude turned to Milly to find herself enveloped in a hug. “Thanks…” she managed.

  “Any time, girlfriend. Now how about a drink before we head back? There was a café in the village.”

  “OK.”

  Only minutes later she sat across from Milly at a small table inside the air conditioned cafe.

  “Why do you do it?” Milly asked. “Send parcels to people you don’t know and are never likely to meet?”

  “To show them
they’re not forgotten.” Jude sipped the drink. “This chap actually replied a couple of times. They don’t always.”

  “What’s he like? Or can’t you say?”

  Jude mimed zipping her mouth closed. “He seems nice enough.”

  “Can’t you even tell me his name?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. MOD regs. Walls have ears and so on. I don’t want to endanger him in any way. He does that enough himself, just by being deployed out there.” She sighed. “So how’s work?”

  Milly grinned. “Subject changed like a pro. You know how the job goes. There’s the long hours and middle of the night phone calls. I’m stuck behind a desk, but I do have loads of men to boss around. What isn’t there to like?”

  “You still hate it?”

  Her friend nodded. “It’s hard. Being DI and not DCI is hard enough, but I’m only filling in here. I’ve no idea how long DI Welsh will be away. So it could be a week, a year…” She shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “You forgot the upside of this equation.” Jude smiled. “You’re in the same town as me for the first time since school.”

  Milly nodded. “Does Kevin still sing ‘Hey Jude’ at you every time you go in the shop?”

  “Every. Single. Time. It’s more than irritating now. It’s creepy, especially given the way he looks at me. I know he likes me and all, but I’m not interested and I’m not sure how to get him to take the hint. Maybe I should wear a ring or just hang a big sign around my neck.” She played with the edge of the glass. “It’s the sentencing tomorrow for Jayden’s case. I don’t suppose you can come, can you? After you’re here today and all.”

  “What time?”

  “Twelve. I know DS Holmes will be there because it’s his case, but…”

  “Of course I’ll be there. I’ll get a lift off the good sergeant.”

  ~*~

  Bev yawned as he checked social media way too early in the morning. He’d uploaded the pool party pictures and made the one of him in the pool wearing the umbrella hat his profile picture. Elf had come too and there were several of him drinking cola, pretending to paddle, and sunbathing. Plus one of him standing on top of the castle.