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Thomas’ shoulders throbbed as he and Bailey set the last dead body down and moved it off the stretcher next to the others. He slipped his hands inside the man’s coat to find any valuables to send to his kin. There was still warmth underneath all the layers of clothing, even though the man’s life had ended by bullets in his chest hours ago. Thomas found some letters soaked in blood, a broken wristwatch and a strange silver thing with a crescent moon on it. Oddly it had been saved from all the bleeding and hits, and shined brightly amidst all that smoky air and black mud like a star in the night sky. It was heavy in his hand and looked expensive – family heirloom or something of the sorts, something that would be missed back home. Thomas reached for the ID tag. J.S. Newman. He left the body to be buried, memorising the name.
“What’s that?” Bailey asked when Thomas returned to their place.
“I don’t know...a fob, I think. You know, at the end of a watch chain.”
“Wait. I’ve seen that before.” He reached his hand forward and Thomas dropped the fob in it. “What was his name?”
“Newman.”
“Ah. Poor Johnny.” Bailey chuckled and handed it back to Thomas. “He won that in a card game. One moment you’re the luckiest man on earth and the next second you’re dead.”
“So is it valuable?” Thomas asked.
“You could trade it for a haircut.”
“Guess it should be the lost party I should return this then.”
Though if he was dumb enough to put his family heirloom in a game of poker it wasn’t Thomas’ business to play lost and found center. (If the man was still alive, anyway.)
“He won it from someone else... You don’t play, do you?”
Not for money, not unless he needed something.
“I won’t give it to you.”
Bailey had done enough damage to their reputation by playing with stolen goods. Quite a pair, they were.
“No, but keep it to yourself,” he said. “His family won’t miss it.”
Thomas placed the fob in his pocket without giving it much thought, and as the realities of war returned harsher than ever the whole thing slipped his mind.
Until he ran out of cigarettes.
“So, what do you have?” the bloke asked.
Thomas fished the fob out of his pocket.
“So that’s where it ended up…” someone muttered next to them. So it had gained a reputation. The bloke – Ellis was his name – took it in his hands and studied it.
“Three,” he said, setting it back to the table.
“Four,” replied Thomas.
“Three.”
Thomas nodded (he would’ve settled for two if Bailey was speaking any truth) and they started playing. Ellis didn’t let a single emotion slip through him, but he did have one fault – he couldn’t keep his eyes off the fob.
When they were done, he set his cards down in a way that Thomas suspected he wasn’t used to losing. Neither was Thomas, and he wasn’t going to start now.
“Look at that, Barrow always wins when he has to,” the bystander said.
Thomas took the fob and the cigarettes (two in his pocket and one in his mouth) and shook Ellis’ hand.
“Here, let me,” Ellis said, offering a light. Thomas leaned in and sucked the smoke in while Ellis smiled at him. Odd fellow.
Thomas was not surprised when he appeared at the dressing station that night.
“I won’t give you any of these,” Thomas said, gesturing with his cigarette.
“I’m not here for them.”
Thomas had guessed, but he didn’t move. Ellis seemed embarassed.
“Can I have a look at it?”
Thomas handed the fob to him and asked, “Is it yours?”
“I lost it to White a few weeks ago.”
“Newman last had it.”
Ellis nodded, running his fingers over it.
“White is better at cheating than I am,” he laughed.
Thomas hummed and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “Give me three more of these and it’s yours again.”
Ellis chuckled and shook his head.
“No thanks. But maybe I’ll win it back sometime.”
He turned around to leave, but Thomas was curious.
“Where did you get this? I mean, I found it from a dead man, is it a bad luck charm or something?”
Thomas wasn’t the one to believe in curses, but he didn’t like taking any chances either.
“Yes, I’d like to get something back that will most certainly kill me,” Ellis said flatly. “I found it in No Man’s Land. Look at the back, there’s text.”
Bis wir uns wieder treffen. Would an enemy’s lucky charm work for them too?
“What does it mean?” Thomas asked.
“Until we meet again.”
Wonder if whoever lost it ever did.
“Hey, Ellis, help me with this. I need a stretcher,” the medic (Thomas wasn’t sure who he was, they’d have to get more men with himself and Bailey gone) said, standing up.
“I can walk...it’s a hand only,” Thomas bit out between his teeth. The pain was worse than he imagined, and he had already started to feel light-headed.
Ellis crouched down and placed his hand on top of Thomas’ right hand, pressing the cloth against the wounded one.
“How did…” he started, looking up and down Thomas’ blooded uniform.
“It is a lucky charm for sure.” The Fritz who lost it was probably laying in a comfortable convalescent home somewhere. “This is a blighty all right…”
Perhaps he started to sound too light-headed, beacuse Ellis moved closer to press harder which made Thomas yelp from pain, but Ellis didn’t ease up. He’d make a good stretcher-bearer.
“My right pocket,” Thomas said. “I don’t need it anymore.”
Ellis used his free hand to take the fob out and stared at it with a dumbfounded face, lightening pressure on Thomas’ hand. Even the faintest light made the fob shine in his bloody and shaking hand. Ellis looked Thomas in the eye and opened his mouth, but the medic was back with a stretcher and another man. As Thomas laid on his back, he saw the moon was a crescent.
“Thank you,” Ellis said, touching Thomas’ arm, and Thomas moved his eyes from the sky to his face.
“Well.” The stretcher was moving. “Till we meet again,” Thomas said, doing a half-hearted salute with his right hand as he was carried away. Ellis stayed, disappearing in the darkness, until the only thing Thomas saw was the glittering of the fob. Then, nothing.