He didn’t elaborate but Sam understood perfectly. Just in case they were next. He nodded absently and looked down at the sodden ground. Following the logic through, the whole thing was insane.
Boxer frowned gently. “Cheer up, it was only a suggestion. I’ll do it myself if you like.”
Sam felt suddenly agitated. “Doesn’t it bother you, all this? All this waste. Knowing we’re probably gonna cop for it any day now. What point has there been in any of it? How many friends have we seen go down? And for what, Boxer? Just to gain a few miserable yards of swamp. It’s enough to send a man out of his mind.”
Boxer’s face became grave. “I can’t make any sense of it either, Sam. Not if I look at it like that. So much of what men do is pointless. Pointless and painful.”
Sam felt an ache in his heart. It seemed like his life was ebbing away already. He would probably never hold Emily in his arms now. The odds were stacked so steeply against them; tales of horror from Glencorse were the talk of the place. He might as well stop kidding himself. All he could hope for now was a nice, clean bullet to put an end to this unknowing once and for all.
“Sin has reaped a terrible harvest,” Boxer continued quietly as if to himself. “A horrible, terrible harvest. Ever since the garden of Eden.”
“Sin?” Sam looked at him blankly. “Garden of Eden? You really believe all that Adam and Eve stuff?” He shook his head incredulously. It certainly wasn’t the first time Boxer had talked about such matters. In the past Sam had always listened to his friend’s religious ramblings with a mixture of politeness and genuine interest. There had even been times when Boxer’s words had caused Sam to search his own soul. In the light of their present dire situation, however, Sam couldn’t help feeling irritated. It seemed to him unreasonable that Boxer should use the occasion to bring up fairy stories about apples in gardens.
But there was no hesitation in Boxer’s reply. “Course I do. How else do you explain the mess we’re in? You don’t think God intended the world to be like this, do you? All this suffering and sorrow?”
“Can’t really see what it has to do with Adam and Eve.” Sam didn’t bother to hide his vexation.
Boxer was unperturbed by it. “It has everything to do with them. This thing goes right back to the beginning. When God made Adam, he gave him a command. Just one, Sam. One tree whose fruit he wasn’t to eat. God was quite clear when he gave the instruction. He warned Adam exactly what would happen if he disobeyed.”
Here we go, thought Sam. Just what I expected – apples in gardens. He decided to humour his friend. “Maybe Adam thought God was holding something back from him. I used to feel the same way when my mother baked scones and wouldn’t let us touch them till we’d had our dinner. Didn’t stop me. If I knew cabbage was going to be on the menu, I’d sneak one upstairs and hide it under my pillow.”
Boxer looked at him patiently. “D’you remember when we first became soldiers, Sam? When we were warned never to stick our heads above the parapet when the bullets were flying? There’s always that temptation when things suddenly go quiet, isn’t there? That curiosity to find out what’s happening. Just a quick glimpse over at the enemy lines. Until the sergeant’s words echo in our minds and jerk us back to our senses. He’s not trying to spoil our fun. He’s trying to stop us getting our faces blown off. Just be glad your mother never came up with an exploding scone recipe.”
Despite himself, Sam had to smile at that one.
Boxer ran a muddy hand across his forehead. “D’you get the point, Sam? Adam thought he knew better than his maker. When he went against God’s command, his rebellion triggered a chain of events he could never have dreamed of. In one swoop, sickness, sorrow and death came into the world. Oh, God had warned him what would happen, but Adam paid no heed. And it wasn’t long before his children began to follow in his footsteps. One of his sons had murdered his own brother by the fourth chapter of the Bible.” He shook his head sadly. “Look at history, Sam. The thing has got bigger and more destructive down each new century. But did we ever imagine we’d witness anything like we’ve seen since we’ve been out here?”
Sam didn’t answer. How could anyone have imagined it? It went beyond the mind’s ability to grasp.
Boxer closed his eyes for a moment. “Y’know, Sam, the Bible asks us the question – what causes wars and fights among us? And it gives us the answer. It’s the selfish desires that rage within us. Mankind has forgotten God. It’s every man for himself. That’s what sin has done to us. Sin is the most fatal sickness this world has ever known.”
Sam was annoyed at himself that he couldn’t argue the point. Boxer might have some strange notions, but Sam couldn’t come up with a better explanation for the brutal carnage that was all around them. A shell screamed through the air, exploding some two hundred yards from their position. Sam felt numb. Usually when they started dropping close, his heart would begin to pound with nervous adrenaline. But not today. Today his heart felt like a lead weight, like that of a man who had begun to die already. The mud squelched beneath his feet as he turned to face Boxer. “If what you’re saying is right, things are never going to get any better. That means this whole war really has been a waste of time.”
Boxer looked thoughtful. “There is a cure, Sam.”
“Cure? How d’you mean, cure?”
“When I said sin was the most fatal sickness the world has ever known, I really meant it. Unfortunately every one of us is born with it. It’s come down the family line, if you care to put it that way. From our forefather, Adam.”
“If you happen to believe in him,” interjected Sam, trying hard to hold on to his scepticism.
Boxer shrugged. “Doesn’t matter whether you believe in him or not, Sam. You were still born with it. I’ll bet you can’t even remember the first time you did something wrong. No one ever had to teach you. Selfishness is as natural as breathing, no matter how decent and respectable we think we might be. It’s like that for all of us born into this world. All that is except one.”
Sam raised his eyebrows.
“I’m talking about Jesus,” Boxer said slowly. “A lot of people see him as just a good man. A powerful teacher. But he’s so much more than that, Sam. You see, he came down from heaven. He wasn’t descended from Adam; Jesus had no human father. Oh, we know Joseph took Mary as his wife and brought Jesus up as his own son. But in reality, Jesus’ father was none other than God himself. That’s why he’s the only one to have been born without the sin disease. And the only one in a position to reconcile us back to God.”
“I’ll bet he wondered what hit him when he arrived down here,” Sam said quietly, scanning their wretched surroundings. He wasn’t trying to be irreverent. He didn’t even know if he believed a word he was saying. But somehow, he felt too weary to withstand Boxer’s reasoning.
Boxer smiled gently. “That’s why he came, Sam – to deal with this mess. It’s why he died. God couldn’t just overlook all the world’s sin and pretend it never happened. It’s like crime and punishment; you can’t have the first without the second. That wouldn’t be justice. Even we humans know that. There had to be punishment, Sam. In fact the Bible tells us quite plainly that our sin warrants the death penalty. But in his great love for us, God absorbed the blow himself. He chose to satisfy the demands of his own justice by sending his own son to take our place.” Boxer studied Sam’s face for a moment. “Let me put it another way, Sam. You and I, and millions of other men, find ourselves out here – or on the Italian or Eastern fronts – wherever you like. We just happen to have been born at a time when the world was getting ready to explode. We didn’t know that, did we? We didn’t know that by the time we reached our early twenties we’d be out here fighting for king and country. That once we joined up, our lives would no longer be our own. Yet here we are, Sam. And we can’t get out of it. We’re here – stuck here. Because, though we didn’t realise it at the time, you and I were not born free men. Our future was sealed the moment we took our first br
eath, simply because of the time and place in which we happened to be born. And now, years on, we find ourselves enslaved to something far, far bigger, far more powerful than we could ever have imagined in our worst nightmares. Even though, deep down, our hearts may tell us we were surely made for better things, this was always going to be our destiny, Sam. We were never going to escape it.”
“Thanks,” Sam said flatly. “That makes me feel a great deal better. The story of a whole generation in one miserable nutshell.” He flicked a louse from the back of his hand and squashed it into the mud with his heel. “No wonder Wilf put a gun to his head.”
There was a shadow of a smile on Boxer’s face. “Hang on, mate, I haven’t finished yet. That first bit was just the bad news. Now, let’s look at our present situation. We both know, don’t we, that sometime within the next couple of days our company’s about to take part in one of its biggest offensives to date? It’s anyone’s guess as to when it will all kick off, but one thing we do know. When that order comes down the line, when those whistles blow, we’ll have no choice but to advance. Even though every fibre in us will shrink at the prospect – let’s face it, the odds are so against us there’s a fair old chance we won’t survive – we simply won’t get a say in it.”
Sam’s face contorted at the bluntness of Boxer’s words.
“Right,” Boxer continued. “Now let’s suppose it gets to an hour before jump off. As the rum rations are passed along, the awful reality of the situation dawns on you. So far, despite all the action you’ve seen, you’ve managed to get away with no more than a few bumps and scratches. This time, however, your heart begins to sense that this will be your final battle. As the moments tick by, the realisation torments you. You wonder how much longer your legs will hold you upright. A man next to you starts to weep. Less than an hour is all you have left. Less than an hour … .” Boxer stopped for a moment and looked directly at his friend.
Sam’s face was ashen. He wasn’t sure where Boxer’s story was leading, but it seemed to have a scarily prophetic ring about it.
Boxer took up the tale again. “Suddenly a fellow, a high ranking chap – a Field Marshal, let’s say – appears in the trench beside you and makes you an incredible proposition. He offers to take your place on the front line. Offers to wear your uniform, eat what’s left of your mouldy rations, put himself in the line of fire once the whistles blow. He’s a Field Marshal, remember. He has the authority to do it. The authority to make the offer, and the authority to cover you completely should you decide to take him up on it. You won’t get shot for cowardice or desertion. You can simply swap places, shake hands, and get off home. Spend the rest of the war waiting for that little lady to come back – y’know, the one you once mentioned to me.” There was a slight twinkle in his eye and Sam smiled sadly.
“Not much chance of that, is there?”
“Yes,” Boxer coaxed, “but if such a fellow were to come along, wouldn’t you jump at the chance? Come on, Sam. Any man in his right mind would.”
Sam nodded slowly. If it meant he could be there in one piece to welcome Emily home, he’d jump at the chance alright.
“Right!” said Boxer, an intensity building in his voice. “Well, we know Field Marshal Haig isn’t likely to stand in for you and send you home. You’re out here for the duration like the rest of us. But when it comes to the eternal home, Sam, that’s exactly what Jesus did do. He saw us stuck fast in our sin and selfishness, drowning in all the awful mess we’ve created. And he knew we could never get ourselves out of it. Without intervention we were destined for destruction. So he came and took our place, Sam. He took our place so that we had a chance to get home safely.”
Another shell whistled through the air and exploded nearby. Sam tried to close his ears to the screams.
Boxer shrugged resignedly. “Let’s face it, pal. Neither of us know if we’ll come out of this next fight alive. But whether we do or whether we don’t, God’s desire for us is that we get home safely. Doesn’t matter if you end up living to be a hundred, or you get shot in the next twenty-four hours; he wants you in his family, Sam. If you trust Jesus to settle the score between you and God, you’ll become one of his children. Your destiny will be changed. Heaven will be waiting for you. Think of it – with God forever, and all the believers who’ve ever gone on before. Don’t you want that, pal? All of this gone, forgotten. Just love, joy, beauty and peace, like the Garden of Eden all over again. And a new body … not a scrap of shrapnel in sight. You’d even get to see Jimmy again. All you have to do is accept his offer, Sam. Turn from your own ways – admit your need of him. But he won’t force you. The choice is entirely yours.”
Sam hung his head. Boxer made it all sound so real. If only he could have the same assurance. But looking around, it was desperately hard to believe in any place where joy, beauty and peace abounded. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Something Boxer had created in his imagination to stop him going completely mad. Whatever it was, it was powerful. Boxer had been a source of strength to Sam from the day they’d met.
“I – I suppose it’s normal for a chap to be scared to die …?” Sam spoke falteringly, afraid of looking a coward or a fool, but unable to keep the question within his heart any longer. His earlier cynicism had all but melted in the heat of the terrors now threatening him.
“Course it is, Sam.” Boxer looked at him kindly. “But it does help if you know where you’re going. Look how gently Jimmy passed on – and smiling too. Oh yes. That makes all the difference …”
I said no more after that, Em. My heart has become so heavy, I can scarcely bear to hope any more. Thinking of all that Boxer has said, I begin to wonder if perhaps it’s too late for me. The fight is soon and I cannot clear my head to think properly. I feel I’ve lost my chance with you, and with God too, if indeed he’s there at all. I don’t want to die. I’ve tried so hard to stay alive. I wish some Field Marshal really would swap me places, for a while at least. Just to give me a little more time to think. My doubts and fears seem so many now. Oh that God would give me a sign. That he would break into this dark hell and let me know he is truly there.
____________
Rosie sat up straight in her chair. It was the last entry. It had been even more difficult to read than usual. The pages were blotched and dirty as though they’d been impregnated with liquid filth and allowed to dry. Probably exactly what had happened. Her eyes went over the closing sentence once again. Reading it made her feel terribly depressed. It seemed so desolate, so desperate – and now so final. Though she had done so before, she flicked through the remaining pages of the notebook just to make sure there was nothing she’d missed. All blank. As blank and empty as the silence in the heavens. Sam had cried out. She had cried out. But there had been no answer. It seemed there would never be an answer for people like them.
Jonathon was eager to talk when he picked her up the next morning. “I was pretty gutted when I read your e-mail last night. What a horrible note to go out on.” He looked genuinely sad about it.
Rosie shrugged as dismissively as she could. “Well, let’s hope he went out quick and clean. That’s what he wanted after all.”
Jonathon frowned slightly. “Well yeah – I guess. It’s just not how I hoped it would end, that’s all.”
“Not all stories have happy endings.” Rosie’s jaw tightened. “If you think they do, you’ve been watching too many films.” She turned her head to look out of the window and never saw the flash of hurt that passed across Jonathon’s face.
For the rest of the journey he didn’t bring the subject up again. It was obvious to him that Rosie didn’t want to discuss it any further, but Jonathon was soon deep in thought. From the sudden curtailment of the diary it seemed reasonable to assume that Sam had suffered the same fate as Boxer. Most likely his name would feature on some war memorial somewhere, carved in marble or stone for future generations to look upon. But that wasn’t the thing that troubled Jonathon. Sam had come so close. Had he ever taken th
at final step, made the choice that Boxer had described? Jonathon hoped with all his heart that he had. How tragic to have come so close and missed it right at the last minute. He sighed quietly. It was something he would never know – not in this life anyway.
____________
It was Thursday dinnertime. So far, Molly had been having a difficult day. Rosie decided it might be best for them to stay indoors for the whole break. She went over to one of the classroom cupboards and pulled out a piece of work. “I liked your picture, Molly.”
Molly sniffed, unconvinced.
“No, I did. Really. I wondered if you wanted to tell me about it.” She placed the picture on the table and Molly stared down at it, her expression inscrutable.
“I guess this is you,” Rosie ventured, pointing to the stick girl. There was the slightest flicker of acknowledgement. Rosie felt encouraged to continue. “And this – this must be your mum, because it’s so like her. I recognised her straightaway.”
Molly blinked, her features softening a little.
“Now, this man here …” Rosie pointed to the figure in the bright turquoise outfit. “I don’t think I’ve met him. Who is he?”
For a moment or two Molly stared hard at the paper. Then her gaze moved to the window. A tiny sound escaped her lips, but Rosie was unable to make out the words. “What was that, Molly? I didn’t quite catch it.”
Molly repeated the sound only marginally louder. “My daddy.”
“Ah right. So that’s Daddy, is it?” Rosie was just debating whether to stay with Dad or move on to the figure at the edge of the picture when Molly’s eyes suddenly welled with tears. Momentarily, Rosie wondered if she’d done the right thing bringing the picture out of the cupboard.
As the tears spilled over and began to run down her cheeks, the little girl bent forward on her chair. “I don’t feel well,” she whimpered quietly.
Rosie put an arm around her small shoulders. She was sure it was an emotional reaction but decided to go along with it. “What’s wrong, Molly?”
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