Johnny Maxwell 2 - Johnny & the Dead by Terry Pratchett

Author:Terry Pratchett
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3
Published: 2010-10-15T22:00:00+00:00

beginnen

'I don't understand that,' said Johnny.

'What do they teach you in school these days?'

Johnny didn't answer. He could tell it wasn't really a question.

'You see - in the Great War, the First World War ... when a new recruit joined the Army he had to fill in his pay book, yes? You know? Name and address and that sort of thing? And to help them do it, the Army did a kind of guide to how to fill it in, and on the guide, where it said Name, they put: Thomas Atkins. It was just a name. Just to show them that's where their name should be. Like: John Smith. But it ... well, it became a sort of joke. Tommy Atkins came to mean the average soldier—'

'Like The Man In The Street?'

'Yes ... very much like that. It was a nickname for a soldier, I do know that. Tommy Atkins —the British Tommy.'

'So ... in a way ... all soldiers were Tommy Atkins?'

'Yes. I suppose you could put it like that. Of course, that's a rather fanciful way of—'

'But he was a real person. He smoked a pipe and everything.'

'Well, I suppose the Army used it because they thought it was a common sort of name. So there was bound to be a real Tommy Atkins somewhere. I know he was very proud of his name.

I do know that.'

'Was he the last man alive who fought in the war?'

'Oh, no. Good heavens, no. But he was the last one from around here, that's for certain. The last of the Pals.'

Johnny felt a change in the air.

'He was a strange old boy. I used to go and see him every year at—'

There was a noise that might be made if a handful of silence was stretched thin and then plucked, like a guitar string.

Johnny looked around. Now there were three people sitting on the bench.

Tommy Atkins had his peaked hat on his knees. The uniform didn't really fit. He was still an old man, so his skinny neck stuck out of his collar like a tortoise's. He had an old-fashioned sort of face - one designed to wear a cloth cap and work in the rubber boot factory. He saw Johnny staring at him, and winked, and gave him the thumbs-up sign. Then he went back to gazing intently at the road leading into the car park.

Behind Johnny, the dead filed quietly out of the building, the older ones coming through the wall, the younger ones still using the door out of habit. They didn't say anything. They just stood and looked expectantly towards the main road.

Where, marching through the cars, were the Blackbury Pals.

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