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He finally relaxed when he heard the guns start up in the distance. The attack wouldn’t be here. They were coming for some other boys tonight, he knew that, but it wouldn’t be them.
It was a hell of a thing when you were relieved to know it was some other chap’s turn, but his Raiders were so tired.
He was so tired.
Jimmy leaned back into the dirt behind him, and just for that small, selfish moment, let himself think of Bill.
He hoped Bill was somewhere warm tonight, or at least somewhere dry. There was no point to hoping he was resting. Bill never did remember to take care of himself when he got his teeth into a problem, and this bloody war was nothing but problems.
At least he was safe back in London. Jimmy never wanted details about what he did all day in that shadowy Whitehall job. It was enough to know it would keep Bill out of the trenches. A man with Bill’s brains didn’t need to be in the mud and blood and shit. That’s what men like Jimmy were for. He’d go over the top as many times as they asked if that’s what it took to keep England safe for Bill.
“Can’t sleep there, Captain. Someone will trip on you.”
Jimmy opened his eyes to see a private hovering politely. Had to be new. The trenches knocked the respect for officers out of them fast enough.
And he was so young. They were all so bloody young. Old enough to die for King and Country, though.
Gathering a smile and the dregs of his energy, Jimmy got himself up. “Won’t be jerry, at least. They’ll be busy with someone else tonight.”
The soldier looked relieved “We’re giving them hell tonight.”
Jimmy didn’t bother to explain those were enemy guns they heard, or what it meant for the men in those trenches. He’d learn soon enough, if he lived.
“Best be getting on with it, then,” Jimmy said.