Read Blood, Mud and Corpses (A Royal Zombie Corps Story) Page 3

for urgent replacements.

  'Dearest son,' His mother had written the letter, 'It is with great sadness that I write to inform you of the death of your brother James.'

  Alfie's eyes welled up, the worst had clearly happened.  As he read on, the familiarity of his mother's handwriting no comfort, he found that his brother had died a hero, not at the Somme, but during an attack in Belgium at the start of July.  His mother wrote about a letter received from his commanding officer.  James had been part of an attack shortly after his unit moved into the line.  He had bravely gone back out into no-man's-land to rescue a friend.  There he had been killed by enemy snipers, cleanly and without suffering.  His CO had recommended him for a medal.

  Alfie could not comprehend the news.  He read the letter through several times, the words struggling to penetrate his reality.  His big brother, the one whom he had idolised as a child, who was always there, was dead.  No more would he be able to play football with him, fight over the slightest thing or receive his good council.

  'What's up Alfie?'  Taff Morgan asked, having noticed that Marsh had been quietly pouring over the letter for a long time.

  'My brother.  He's dead.  Belgium.'  Alfie spat out the sparse words, words which instantly meant something tangible, now he had said them out loud.

  'Bugger!'  Taff spat, leaving his own letters and sitting at the end of Marsh's bunk.

  'Putting him forward for a medal, sniper got him.'  

  'Damn.'

  Alfie crumpled and the tears started, he did not say that his mother had reminded him that all the family hopes were now pinned on him.  That they expected him to go out and get revenge against the evil Fritz.  

  It was not the done thing, but Taff still knew how to respond as he broke down and held him through the worst of it.