smackenzie

By the time they disembark at Le Havre, Bradford is feeling distinctly sick. He is not alone, to judge from the faces of most of the men as they file off the steamer. Bradford can at least partly blame the stuffiness of the room in which he and Cuthbertson and Dix and a couple of other officers played cards. The closeness of the room was not helped by all the smoking and Dix's generosity with the flask he had secreted inside his jacket. Bradford had always been able to handle his drink, but the combination of smoke and scotch – good scotch, at least – and closed windows just made the rough crossing worse.

"Chin up," Cuthbertson whispers as they go off in search of orders and direction. Bradford is pretty sure they're off to Rouen after this, where he assumes they'll all receive the rest of their kit and be put through gas huts. He already knows which division he and Cuthbertson have been assigned to, and he's pretty sure which brigade in that division, but other than that, he has no idea. He hopes Dix will be going to another brigade, at least. Bradford can handle him for an hour or so, but after that – especially if he's been losing at cards – Dix is pretty insufferable.

"They're boys, Bertie," he says, watching the privates milling around, gathering their things and being herded into groups by some of the officers. Now that they're finally here in France, they look younger than ever, full of excitement, like boys settting off on the kind of adventures they'd only read about.

What did Cuthbertson say on the boat? Glory and adventure and meaning and purpose.

But first, orders. Divisions and brigades and battalions. Bradford and Cuthbertson both have their marching orders and their (possibly temporary) charges, and right now they have to get all these men out of Le Havre and into the country, and eventually to the line.

"How's your mood?" Cuthbertson asks, after they've collected their charges and another captain (Bradford is pretty sure he said his name was Stephens) and headed out.

"Better. I'm glad to be out of the Channel, anyway. Where do you think Dix is going now?"

"I don't know. Not with us, apparently. That's a pity - I'll miss his scotch." Cuthbertson looks wistful. Bradford tastes bile at the mention of scotch and the memory of the cloud of smoke over their card game. Evidently moving around on solid ground isn't enough to get rid of his seasickness. He probably just needs a good night's sleep.

"I'm jealous of your sea legs," he says. Cuthbertson laughs. A junior officer walking in front of them turns and stares. Cuthbertson grins brightly at him. Bradford can't remember the officer's name but the single star on his jacket cuff marks him as a second lieutenant.

The sun is hot overhead and soon everyone is dusty. Bradford is almost impressed by the quantity of dust that the men can kick up as they march along. He does feel better about their chances than he did on the steamer – less melancholy, less inclined to look for dark signs and portents. The shining sun is a great mood-lifter, as is the almost palpable sense of excitement and anticipation and duty that hangs over the troops like a cheerier cloud of dust. He starts whistling.

"Good man," Cuthbertson says, still grinning. This time Bradford grins back.

* * *

Henry Bradford is twenty-six, tall and narrow and curly-haired. He is London born and public school educated. His father is a highly-respected surgeon and wanted him to study medicine as well, but Henry wasn't interested and instead read history at Cambridge. He doesn't know what he wants to do with his life, which career to follow, but when war broke out he had decided maybe law was his future. He no longer knows if that's what he wants after all, but he also doesn't think it matters.

He has a sister, Amelia, who is nine years younger than he is. His mother is too well-bred and too polite – and loves her children too much – to ever admit that Amelia was something of an accident, but the fact is that by the time she was conceived, Dr and Mrs Bradford had accepted that they were only ever going to have the one child. Amelia is sometimes a pest, like all younger siblings everywhere, and when she was very small she used to pull on Henry's hair – which habit she still hasn't grown out of - but he's very protective of her, and he loves her. As she likes to tell him, he has to love her, she's the only sister he has.

"And how many brothers do you have?" he always answers. "Because it seems to me you have to love me too."

"Oh, I do," she'll say offhandedly. "I'm just very good at hiding it." And then she'll punch him in the arm and run off, laughing.

When Cuthbertson introduced Bradford to his wife and children – a son and daughter – Bradford wondered if they would grow up with the same kind of relationship as he and his sister. But the little Cuthbertsons are only two years apart, not nine. Bradford was already in school when his sister was born, and in fact when the mother of one of his friends had a baby, Bradford went home and announced to his surprised parents that he wanted a little sibling for his birthday. A brother would be best, he said, but a sister was acceptable too.

Amelia likes to remind him of this when he complains about her.

When Bradford received his commission, his father toasted him with champagne as if he'd just received the best job offer ever. Bradford himself hadn't been entirely convinced, but everyone was joining up, some boys even lying about their age, that he could hardly argue. Besides, his Uncle Henry, his mother's favorite brother after whom he was named, was a career officer and diplomat and had spent a great many years serving in India and the Far East, so becoming a captain was a bit like joining the family business. One of them, anyway.

(Uncle Henry caused something of a minor family scandal when he opted to retire to Hong Kong, rather than coming home. Part of the scandal was that he stayed in the Far East to please a lady, and not just any lady, but the widow of a fellow diplomat, and in fact the scandal was really that Uncle Henry and the lady were said to have become involved while her husband was still alive. But that was more rumor than fact, and both Uncle Henry and the lady had always strenuously denied this. Although as people said, they would, wouldn't they.)

Bradford had even joined the Officers' Training Corps at university, at both his mother's and his uncle's behest. He'd never intended on actually becoming an officer, though. But he also hadn't intended for Britain and France and Germany and Belgium to declare war when he was still young enough to serve.

And now he was a captain and his parents were so proud of him, because it was something of a career, at least until peace broke out. He didn't need the social boost it might give him – he was fairly well boosted already – but regardless of how he might feel about it, he couldn't very well have turned it down.

So here he is, tromping down a French road towards Rouen, dusty and excited men and officers all around him, Cuthbertson now whistling cheerfully next to him and the second lieutenant starting to hum. Even his seasickness is starting to fade. He isn't sure how much hope he actually has, but right now, things seem to be going just as planned.

words: 1314
total words: 1945
...i though i had a ~~hysterical~~ historical researchy note but now i can't remember what it was.