The Stone Marker by Lambright Jason

Author:Lambright, Jason
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-23T00:00:00+00:00

21

The dawn awoke to thunder. The 6th Scots hadn’t slept a wink.

Churchill spoke.

“Major Sinclair. Who is left?”

Sinclair rubbed his stubbled face. “Only Harvey. Ramsey is unknown, Foulkes dead, McGregor wounded.” He paused. “It was a difficult night.”

Churchill puffed on his cigar. “Quite.”

Captain Gibb spoke. “We held them.”

Churchill looked over. “Indeed. But at a terrible cost.” He looked at the Battalion Sergeant Major. “What is the latest count, Sergeant Major?”

Sergeant Major Robbins’ wrinkles were gravened in deep lines on his face. Brick dust covered his tin hat, and it caked his thin mustache. He spoke.

“Sir. One hundred seventeen dead. Ninety-six missing. One hundred forty-three wounded.”

“That’s nearly half the battalion.”

Bill noted that Churchill didn’t seem surprised. He reached into his tunic; his hand fell upon his trusty smokes. He pulled one out and lit it. What a shitty night, he thought. He listened as the leaders continued.

Sinclair spoke. “We are doing better than the others. We held; they are holding on by their fingernails.”

Churchill nodded. “One more such victory, and we are undone.”

Gibb spoke. “Thus spoke Pyrrhus of Epirus.”

Churchill nodded and tapped ash from his Cuban. Smoke curled skywards in the roofless ruin of their once plush HQ.

“Now that full daylight is upon us, ensure we can defend what we hold. I imagine it will be quite some time before we resume offensive operations.” He paused. “Of course, I could be rather badly mistaken. In that case, it would be wise to be ready for anything.”

He looked at his shrunken staff. “Alright. Harvey still leads C, Peabody has A, Sidwell has B, and Tucker commands what remains of D.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Correct?”

Gibb spoke. “Yes, sir.”

Churchill looked out of a ruined, jagged window. “Excellent. As soon as feasible, pull D into reserve and give them a rest. They’ve had a perfectly awful time.”

Sinclair crossed his arms. “All thirty-odd who remain.”

Churchill continued his stare into the distance. Bill saw his eyes water. He spoke. “Yes.” He paused. “Thirty-one, to be precise.”

Outside, men spanned wicked-looking barbed wire.

The 6th dug in its heels, and the survivors licked their wounds.

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