Soldier of the Horse by Robert W. Mackay

Author:Robert W. Mackay
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-926741-35-2
Publisher: Touchwood Editions
Published: 2011-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

RAIDING PARTY

♦ ♦ ♦

In the fall of 1917 the regiment moved to their winter quarters. They had settled into a relatively pleasant existence, considering they were living in tents in miserable weather far from home. For the time being, at least, they were out of the firing line and back in reserve. The brigade still hoped in its collective heart that a hole would be blasted in the German lines and the cavalry would come into its own, but it looked unlikely, given the terrible losses and total stalemate that were the legacy of the Battle of the Somme. Twinned, parallel lines of nearly static trenches still zigzagged from the Swiss border to the English Channel.

Tom had managed a shave and wash in a rudimentary bathhouse set up in an abandoned factory and was on his way back to his tent when he saw Bruce Johanson approaching.

“Hey there, Corporal Tom,” Bruce said with a grin. “Are you still associating with the hoi polloi? Or is it just other noncoms you hang around with now?”

Tom knew his recent promotion had a lot to do with casualties and promotions in the ranks above. The troops were being thinned out. Only a few of his original troop of reinforcements were still in one piece and in the regiment.

Bruce didn’t expect an answer and didn’t wait for one. “I’ve got good news, which I’ll even share with a corporal. Our leave has come through. Paris, here we come!” He did a little jig, incongruous in muddy boots and puttees.

Tom clutched his friend and the two of them sashayed in a circle, yelling and laughing. They stopped to catch their breath.

“How soon? When do we go?”

“This coming Saturday. What I’m thinking is, there are going to be lots of those little French mademoiselles skipping around, with nary a French soldier to be found. We probably won’t even have to parley-voo the French to have one on each arm.”

Ferguson appeared and hurried along the line of tents to where Tom and Bruce stood, grinning. He was waving a letter. “I see you’ve both heard the news. Anyway, here’s some mail. Nothing for you, my boy,” he said, clapping Bruce on the back, “but one for His Majesty’s newest corporal,” and he bowed, sweeping his hand with the letter in it to Tom. “Let’s you and me, Bruce, go and see if the cooks have dinner ready yet in the dining lounge and leave lover boy to his mail.”

Tom watched the two of them wander off, then sat on the remains of an abandoned garden wall. Ellen’s familiar handwriting on the envelope made his heart leap as he ripped open the envelope.

Dear Tom,

I haven’t heard from you for two weeks, but there are always delays. Perhaps I’ll get another bundle all at once, just like last time. This will be the shortest letter yet. I don’t know where to start.

Tom, I have met someone else. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I don’t know what to do. You have been gone so long.

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