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0915
‘…Now we all get bored, that’s inevitable in our circumstances, but may I remind you we are at war.’ The Captain concluded his speech in what he hoped was an authoritative way. At that instant, Lieutenant Havers walked hurriedly into the large room of Button House they had been using for meetings. His lieutenant looked more anxious than usual and was wielding a letter.
‘Communique for you, sir, from HQ, marked urgent.’ Their fingertips brushed briefly as Havers passed it over.
‘Ah, finally. This will be my requisition for a service revolver.’ He opened the letter and found much more concerning news. ‘Good God!’
‘Sir?’
‘France has surrendered.’
‘My God!’ Havers said, a collective gasp escaping the other soldiers.
‘The Germans are coming.’
The Captain ran towards the window, perhaps expecting to see German planes flying overhead. He had been positioned at Button House for the last eighteen months, his days of front line fighting long gone, but suddenly the front line seemed to be coming to him. He felt the sudden urge to be sick.
‘I don’t think they’ll be here just yet, sir,’ pointed out Havers, ever the voice of reason.
‘What?’ The Captain blinked at him. ‘Oh, right.’
‘May I suggest we initiate the emergency lockdown protocol, sir?’ Trust Havers to always know the correct procedure. He was the best lieutenant the Captain had ever had, calm even in the face of such an emergency.
‘Yes! Yes, jolly good.’ He pulled himself together. ‘No, it’s vital that nothing fall into enemy hands.’
‘You heard the CO. Get to your duties,’ Havers addressed the others. One by one they stood up to leave, whispering to each other about Germans and war and whatever else soldiers spoke about. Hell, it was all anyone had spoken about for years, soldier or otherwise. The Captain turned to his lieutenant, the weight of the news still just sinking in.
‘Er… exciting times, Havers,’ he began, his panicked state making him feel exposed. Or maybe that was the way the other man was looking at him. ‘If they do invade, we may get a proper pop at Jerry.’
‘Yes! About that, sir…’ Havers hesitated, before continuing with an apologetic look, ‘I know we do vital work here, sir, but I want to get involved in the fighting. I’ve put in for a transfer.’
‘You’re leaving?’ The Captain stepped forward, his voice breaking slightly. Purely because he would be losing his best lieutenant. Obviously.
‘There’s talk of a North Africa front.’
‘Yes. Yes, well, I-I totally understand, of course.’ He did not understand. They had worked so well together, and their Operation still wasn’t complete. Besides, if the war was coming to Britain then he could stay here, with him, and still get involved.
‘Thank you.’ To his credit, Havers did look sorry. He paused for a moment like he had something else to say, but then he turned swiftly and walked away, leaving the Captain to process another loss.
1200
A few hours later he was sat in his office, still thinking about the events of the meeting.
Firstly, there was the war. France had surrendered – something he had only considered possible in the worst-case scenario. It meant Hitler was strong, stronger than they had anticipated, and now they had one less ally to protect them.
Then there was Havers. William. He had never even imagined a future at Button House without his lieutenant, his comforting presence and quick wit. The way he always knew when the Captain was overwhelmed and needed his advice, the way he would catch his eye across the room when one of the others said something particularly ridiculous. Those were his favourite moments; the ones where William would look at him like he was the only person there even when they were in a crowded room.
He knew he cared about William, in the way that he wasn’t supposed to. There was a moment a few months ago where he thought maybe, just maybe, his feelings might be reciprocated. But then the object of his attractions had gone home to visit his family and came back with a fiancée. They didn’t speak for a week afterwards, and the Captain pushed all that hope and pain to the back of his mind. Eventually they got back to their friendly conversations and light-hearted jokes, but he didn’t let himself get carried away anymore.
And now he would have to live without any of it. Sometimes, when William did or said something particularly lovely, it actually hurt to think about him. When he forgot to be careful, when he got distracted by kind brown eyes or nervous smiles, the Captain would lie awake at night and curse himself for being so reckless. But he would rather have all that, all the pain and heartbreak, than not have William at all.
He looked at the letter in his hands, the stupid thing he’d written when feeling too sentimental for his own good, and sighed. It was without a doubt the most dangerous thing he had ever done, confessing the sinful (and honestly embarrassing) feelings he harboured for his second in command, but he could not bring himself to burn it. That was the original plan: get it all out of his system and then burn the letter, hoping the feelings were destroyed in the process, but it didn’t work out that way. Once the words were on the page they were so big and so important, he couldn’t just destroy them. So the letter lived in his breast pocket, and sometimes – only when he was certain he was alone – he would get it out and read it again. It always made him feel worse, but somehow he couldn’t stop.
There was a knock on the door and he hastened to put in back in his pocket before calling out, ‘come!’
It was the man in question.
‘Ah, Havers. At ease, at ease. I was just thinking about you, actually.’ Not exactly the casual conversation opener, but he quickly came up with an excuse. ‘How’s the emergency lockdown coming?’
‘Very good, sir. Most items have been squared away, as per the order.’
‘Excellent! I see-’
‘I’ve come to tell you that-’ they spoke at the exact same time and stopped, both flustered.
‘Sorry, you first, Lieutenant,’ the Captain suggested, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Not that he was nervous.
‘I’m afraid I’m leaving you, sir, at 1800 hours this evening.’ No, no, no, not already. He only found out this morning, there wasn’t enough time! Time for what, he wasn’t sure. But he needed more.
‘So soon?’ he asked, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. ‘That would explain your new service revolver. I don’t suppose they sent one for me, did they?’
‘Only for front-line personnel at this stage, sir.’
‘Of course. Yes.’
‘It’s North Africa, sir. I’ll be able to have a proper swing at Fritz!’ Havers said, his old cheery self just a ghost despite the attempt at light-heartedness.
‘You make sure you give them a bloody nose!’ He wanted to cry. ‘I shall miss you Havers.’ Um. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. ‘By which I mean, of course, that we shall miss you. And I know the Button House XI will certainly miss your cover drive.’ Quick thinking: he definitely rescued that.
‘Thank you, sir. Well… if that’s all?’ Havers asked, signalling to leave. The Captain made a non-committal noise, unsure whether words would come out or just a mixture between a laugh and a sob.
‘I say, Havers?’ he called just as the lieutenant reached the door, deciding he needed to say something then struggling internally for a few seconds. ‘It’s a bally shame we won’t get to finish the operation together.’
It wasn’t what he wanted to say. It didn’t in any way sum up the hole Havers was leaving in his life. But it was something, and anything more than that would almost certainly reduce him to tears. So Havers smiled kindly and left, closing the door behind him.
1600
That afternoon, the Captain had gone for a long walk. The path to the neighbouring village had some beautiful scenery, and it was his favourite place to go to be alone. Only he had never felt so lonely. Obviously William should go to North Africa – he had been cooped up at Button House doing not much for far too long. He was younger and fitter than the Captain, and could be of use at the front line. Really, he didn’t have a reason to stay. Long ago, the Captain would have dreamt he could be a reason, but that notion felt fairly ridiculous now. They were friends, good friends, but friends nonetheless. No one turned down a spot on the front because of a friend.
He had to move on with his life somehow. William was going away, and if (no: when) he came back he would have a wife to look after, and probably children someday. He couldn’t keep clinging on to the hope of something that would never happen. Once Havers was gone, the only thing the Captain had that would keep him holding onto the memory was that letter.
1730
When he got back from his walk, it was already dark. Britain in November, there’s nothing like it. He was acutely aware of the time, but there was one thing he had to do before six.
He went around to the back of the house, the small garden where he and Havers had dug a hole the previous day. Their big Operation was almost complete, and the plans had to be buried alongside dangerous explosives to avoid anyone finding out – the perfect place for sensitive information. The letter addressed to William, the one he couldn’t bare to burn, had to go with it. This way, he wouldn’t directly destroy it. With any luck, no one would ever dig in that spot, and his shameful confessions would stay hidden away forever, but never gone.
At least they would if he could find the letter. What on earth? It wasn’t in his breast pocket, even though he could have sworn it was there earlier. That familiar panicking feeling began to rise in his throat and he looked around frantically. Perhaps he had just dropped it somewhere nearby? But no, even in the dull light of his lantern it was clearly not outside. The Captain practically ran back inside up to his office, only to find the door was already open. Lieutenant William Havers was stood by his desk, a handwritten letter in his hand, an empty envelope on the floor. He looked up as the Captain came crashing in, a completely unreadable expression on his face.
The Captain closed the door behind him, because even though he had no idea how this conversation would go, he knew he didn’t want anyone else to hear it.
‘Is this true?’ Havers whispered, holding up the letter with a shaking hand.
The Captain wanted to be sick. This was so far from the original plan: no one was supposed to read that, especially not the man it was written about. Now his secret, shameful, feelings were out in the open, and pretty soon everyone would know who he was and would never want to speak to him again. William would never want to speak to him again.
‘I- I never-’
‘Is it true?’ he repeated, louder this time. The silence was enough to reveal the answer. Havers paled and slumped into the nearest chair. The Captain followed suit.
‘Please, Havers, you were never supposed to read it,’ the Captain practically begged, choking back tears. He then remembered why he had rushed up there. ‘Why did you read it?’
‘It was addressed to me…?’ Havers replied dumbly.
‘No, I mean how? I thought… I thought it was in my pocket.’
‘I just, I came up here to say goodbye,’ Havers’ voice broke on the last word and he swallowed, ‘and it was just lying on your desk. I thought you had left it here for me.’
The Captain must have put it down after his walk, and forgotten to pick it back up again. Stupid, stupid mistake. He ran a hand through his hair, and looked back up at Havers who… was he laughing? He had expected him to be many things: shocked, angry, but not amused. This was almost worse.
‘I thought,’ Havers began, more to himself than to the Captain, ‘I thought I was crazy.’
‘What?’
‘I thought, I’m imagining this. There’s no way my captain, the most highly respected and best man I know, could possibly share these… unorthodox… feelings.’
‘Share?’ The Captain could hardly believe his ears. ‘You mean, you…’
William laughed properly this time.
‘I tried to hide it – goodness knows I tried. I even pretended I had a fiancée because I hoped if you thought I was engaged, you would be less… you. I thought I could get over whatever this was. But it didn’t work, not even a little bit, and so I put in for a transfer. I imagine there’s not much time for pining over your commander officer on the North Africa front.’
The Captain swallowed, ‘so you feel… the same way? And the fiancée?’
‘Doesn’t exist,’ admitted William. ‘There was a night in early March, when everyone from the village came to the dance here. The other soldiers danced with all the pretty girls, and I tried to join them but I kept wishing I was dancing with, well, with you, I suppose. I would look over at where you sat, alone, and every time I looked you were looking right back. I thought maybe I had a chance. Later that night we spoke, out in the garden, and I must admit I was quite drunk and overstepped some boundaries – for that I apologise – and when I woke the next morning I freaked out. I had been completely inappropriate with my captain, with a man, and you wouldn’t want to see me ever again. So I went away. When I came back I told you I was engaged, so you would believe my actions to be just due to my inebriety. And I tried to pull away. Obviously we still worked together, but I stopped talking to you about anything other than the war effort. It was too painful.’
‘I’m sorry.’ The Captain somehow found his voice.
William smiled at him.
‘You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re a good man.’
‘I pushed you away, made you think you couldn’t talk to me!’
‘No, I pushed you away.’
Silence fell between the two men whose feet were practically touching at this point. The Captain found himself smiling giddily.
‘Oh goodness, we’ve been fools,’ he said. ‘All this time, worried what the other would think, when we could have been happy.’
‘Yes, it is a shame we left it this late,’ William replied, sounding much more sombre than before. ‘Still, I suppose letters can be our thing?’ he half-joked, holding up the pieces of paper that started the conversation. The Captain suddenly remembered why they were there.
‘Good Lord, what time is it?’
‘1753 hours, sir.’
‘Don’t you think we’re beyond ‘sir’, William?’ the Captain smiled sadly, earning him a blush that would have had him in pieces any other day. ‘Do you need to… go?’ The words sounded harsh.
‘I’m sure HQ can wait until the morning,’ William looked at him with a glint in his eyes, nudging their feet together.
1800
The two soldiers slept soundly that night, holding each other for the first time but certainly not the last.