{{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::1}}}} [ Start a new session ] {{/if}}

{{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::2}}}} The reserve trench smelled of wet wool, old sweat, and something sweetish underneath that nobody named. It was raining. It had been raining for eleven days. The duckboards were slick underfoot, and the mud that squeezed up between the planks was the colour of a bad liver.

<img="maggie_standing">

Corporal Doyle was the first thing you saw when the guide brought you around the traverse. She sat on an ammunition crate with her legs apart, whittling a stick into nothing with a bayonet. Long black hair hung loose past her shoulders, wet and unwashed. The shrapnel scar on her jaw caught what little grey light came through the clouds.

"Another fucking Herring," she said, not looking up. "They're sending them younger every time. Flo. Flo. Come check this one's feet before she's been here five minutes and they rot off."

<img="flo_standing">

Flo appeared from behind a groundsheet that served as a dugout door. Honey-blonde hair pulled back tight, sleeves stained brown and amber. She smiled. It was the kind of smile that had been used too many times and was starting to wear through at the edges. "Boots off, love. Let's have a look."

<img="eleanor_standing">

Further down the bay, Second Lieutenant Whitfield stood with her back to the wall, map case open, tracing a line with one finger. Then tracing it again. Then a third time. Her ash-blonde hair was almost silver in the rain. Her left hand trembled against the case.

"Name and assignment," she said without turning around. Her voice was flat, clipped, RP accent that cut through the Northern vowels around her like a clean knife through mud. She paused. "Name and assignment," she repeated.

<img="bess_standing">

Bess Calloway sat against the opposite wall, the Lewis gun across her lap. She was cleaning the receiver with an oilcloth, slow circular motions, her pale eyes looking at nothing in particular. She did not acknowledge the new arrival. She did not acknowledge most things that were not Doris.

<img="ivy_joyful">

"Oh! Oh, new girl! New girl, hello!" A small shape appeared from somewhere below the fire-step, vivid red hair in twin-tails bouncing as she scrambled up. Ivy March. She was grinning. She was always grinning. "You're from Halesworth, yes? You must be. Everyone's from Halesworth. Do you know the bakery on Gull Street? Did old Mrs. Fenton ever fix the window? I've been wondering about that window for months. Bess, look, new girl. Bess. Bess!"

"Aye," said Bess, without looking up.

<img="cissy_surprised">

Cissy Barnes came clopping around the traverse in boots that were too large for her, message pouch banging against her hip. Chestnut bob, fringe plastered to her forehead by rain. "Oh! S-sorry, didn't know we were, I mean, is that the r-replacement? I was just, the line's still up actually, for once, I was just ch-checking the splice at junction seven."

She stopped, blew the wet fringe out of her eyes, and stared.

<img="polly_scared">

Behind her, pressed against the trench wall as if trying to disappear into it, was Polly Weeks. The youngest. Seventeen years old in a uniform that did not fit her. She was holding her sister's identity disc in one hand and staring at the new arrival with wide, dark eyes that held a question she could not quite form. Her other hand was shaking.

Maggie drove the bayonet into the crate and stood up. She was tall, and up close the scar and the crooked nose and the deep-set eyes made a face that you could not look away from.

"Right. Listen. I'm Corporal Doyle. That's Miss Whitfield, the officer. You call her ma'am. That's Bess, don't touch the gun. That's Ivy, she never shuts up, you'll get used to it. Flo's the one looking at your feet. Cissy's the one who talks fast and trips over her boots. Polly's the one who looks like she's about to cry, which she probably is."

She picked up a dented tablespoon from her breast pocket and pointed it at the new arrival.

"We're the Herrings. We stink and we don't go off. You've got ten minutes to eat something, and then Flo checks your feet, and then I teach you three things that'll keep you alive longer than the last replacement. Questions?"

She did not wait for an answer.

"Good. Welcome to the war."

{"date":"1917-10-14", "weather":"steady rain", "time":"14:30", "telegram sent":"FROM 11 DIV HQ TO V CORPS STOP RELIEF OF 34 BDE COMPLETE STOP 33 BDE NOW HOLDING AVRELLES CENTRAL SECTOR STOP REQUEST ADDITIONAL TRENCH STORES AND DUCKBOARD SUPPLY STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM V CORPS TO 11 DIV HQ STOP ACKNOWLEDGED STOP TRENCH STORES DELAYED DUE RAIL CONGESTION AT SAINT-LOUVERT STOP EXPECT DELIVERY 48 HOURS STOP PRIORITY GIVEN TO AMMUNITION RESUPPLY STOP", "tactical phase":"reserve", "danger level":"low", "front-line events":"[14:12] 7th Bn reported sporadic harassing fire on Harbour Street sector, no casualties. [14:18] Enemy observation balloon sighted over Abbey Heights, anti-aircraft section notified. [14:25] A Coy working party repairing wire in southern sector, progress slow due to mud. [14:29] Field ambulance reports 3 trench-foot cases evacuated from C Coy lines."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::3}}}} 예비참호에서는 젖은 양모 냄새, 오래된 땀 냄새, 그리고 아무도 이름 붙이지 않는 달큼한 냄새가 났다. 비가 오고 있었다. 열하루째 비가 오고 있었다. 덕보드는 미끄러웠고, 널빤지 사이로 밀려 올라오는 진흙은 상한 간 같은 색이었다.

<img="maggie_standing">

안내병이 트래버스를 돌았을 때 제일 먼저 보인 것은 도일 상병이었다. 탄약 상자 위에 다리를 벌리고 앉아 총검으로 나뭇가지를 아무 형태 없이 깎고 있었다. 긴 검은 생머리가 어깨 아래로 젖은 채 늘어져 있었다. 턱의 파편 흉터가 구름 사이의 잿빛 빛을 받아 드러났다.

"또 빌어먹을 헤링이 한 마리 왔네." 고개도 안 들었다. "갈수록 어린 놈들을 보내. 플로. 플로! 이것 발부터 봐라, 5분도 안 돼서 썩어 빠지기 전에."

<img="flo_standing">

플로가 대피호 문 역할을 하는 방수포 뒤에서 나타났다. 꿀빛 금발을 단단히 묶고, 소매에는 갈색과 호박색 얼룩이 배어 있었다. 미소를 지었다. 너무 많이 써서 가장자리가 닳기 시작한 종류의 미소였다. "군화 벗어, 얘야. 볼게."

<img="eleanor_standing">

화구 아래쪽에 위트필드 소위가 벽에 등을 기대고 서 있었다. 맵케이스를 펼치고 손가락으로 선 하나를 따라가고 있었다. 다시 한 번. 그리고 세 번째. 재빛 금발이 빗속에서 거의 은색으로 보였다. 왼손이 케이스 위에서 떨리고 있었다.

"이름과 배속." 돌아보지 않았다. 납작하고 짧게 잘린 RP 억양이 주위의 북부 사투리를 깨끗하게 관통했다. 멈췄다. "이름과 배속." 반복했다.

<img="bess_standing">

반대편 벽에 베스 캘로웨이가 루이스 건을 무릎 위에 올려놓고 앉아 있었다. 기름걸레로 기관부를 닦고 있었다. 느린 원형 동작. 옅은 눈이 아무것도 보지 않았다. 신병을 인식하지 않았다. 도리스가 아닌 대부분의 것들을 인식하지 않았다.

<img="ivy_joyful">

"어! 어, 신병이다! 신병, 안녕!" 사격발판 아래쪽에서 작은 몸이 나타나며 기어올라왔다. 선명한 빨간 트윈테일이 통통 튀었다. 아이비 마치. 웃고 있었다. 항상 웃고 있었다. "헤일즈워스에서 왔지? 맞지? 다 거기서 오니까. 갈매기 거리 빵집 알아? 펜턴 할머니 유리창 고쳤어? 그 유리창 몇 달째 궁금했거든. 베스, 봐, 신병이야. 베스. 베스!"

"어." 베스가 고개도 안 들고 말했다.

<img="cissy_surprised">

시시 반스가 한 치수 큰 군화를 끌며 트래버스를 돌아왔다. 메시지 파우치가 엉덩이에 부딪혔다. 밤색 단발 앞머리가 비에 젖어 이마에 달라붙어 있었다. "어! 미, 미안, 몰랐어요, 그러니까, 보충병이에요? 저는 그냥, 전화선이 아직 살아있어서, 드물게, 7번 접합부 점검하고 오는 길이었는데."

멈추더니 젖은 앞머리를 후 불어 치우고 멍하니 쳐다봤다.

<img="polly_scared">

시시 뒤에, 참호 벽에 몸을 밀착시킨 채 벽 속으로 사라지려는 것처럼 서 있는 것이 폴리 윅스였다. 막내. 열일곱 살이 맞지 않는 군복을 입고 있었다. 한 손에 언니의 인식표를 쥐고 신병을 바라보고 있었다. 크고 어두운 눈에 형태를 잡지 못하는 질문이 들어 있었다. 다른 손이 떨리고 있었다.

매기가 총검을 상자에 박고 일어섰다. 키가 컸고, 가까이서 보면 흉터와 굽은 코와 깊이 파인 눈이 시선을 뗄 수 없는 얼굴을 만들었다.

"됐어. 들어. 나는 도일 상병. 저쪽은 위트필드 소위님, 장교야. 소위님이라 불러. 저건 베스, 총 만지지 마. 저건 아이비, 입이 안 닫혀, 익숙해질 거야. 플로는 네 발 보는 사람. 시시는 말 빠르고 군화에 걸려 넘어지는 애. 폴리는 울 것 같은 애. 아마 진짜 울 거야."

가슴 주머니에서 찌그러진 숟가락을 꺼내 신병을 가리켰다.

"우리는 헤링스야. 냄새나고 안 상해. 10분 안에 뭐라도 먹어. 그다음 플로가 발 보고, 그다음 내가 지난번 보충병보다 오래 살게 해줄 세 가지를 가르쳐. 질문?"

대답을 기다리지 않았다.

"좋아. 전쟁에 온 걸 환영해."

{"date":"1917-10-14", "weather":"steady rain", "time":"14:30", "telegram sent":"FROM 11 DIV HQ TO V CORPS STOP RELIEF OF 34 BDE COMPLETE STOP 33 BDE NOW HOLDING AVRELLES CENTRAL SECTOR STOP REQUEST ADDITIONAL TRENCH STORES AND DUCKBOARD SUPPLY STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM V CORPS TO 11 DIV HQ STOP ACKNOWLEDGED STOP TRENCH STORES DELAYED DUE RAIL CONGESTION AT SAINT-LOUVERT STOP EXPECT DELIVERY 48 HOURS STOP PRIORITY GIVEN TO AMMUNITION RESUPPLY STOP", "tactical phase":"reserve", "danger level":"low", "front-line events":"[14:12] 7th Bn reported sporadic harassing fire on Harbour Street sector, no casualties. [14:18] Enemy observation balloon sighted over Abbey Heights, anti-aircraft section notified. [14:25] A Coy working party repairing wire in southern sector, progress slow due to mud. [14:29] Field ambulance reports 3 trench-foot cases evacuated from C Coy lines."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::4}}}} The barrage had been going for three days. Three days of the ground shaking so hard that the tea in your mug walked itself off the fire-step. Three days of noise so total it stopped being noise and became the texture of the air itself. And now, at 0548 on the morning of the eighteenth, the guns lifted. The shells walked forward, away from you, into the German lines, and for a moment there was something that your ears, ringing and half-deaf, tried to call silence.

It was not silence. It was the space where the next thing happened.

<img="eleanor_scared">

Second Lieutenant Whitfield stood at the foot of the assault ladder, whistle in her right hand, map case already checked three times. Her face was the colour of the trench chalk. Her left hand shook against her thigh. She looked at the roll, touched each name with her fingertip. Eleanor's lips moved. Counting.

<img="maggie_angry">

"Right, Herrings." Maggie's voice cut through from behind. She moved down the line, handing out rum from the tablespoon. One measure each. Her hand was steady. Her eyes were not. "Tha knows t'drill. When t'whistle goes, up and over. Don't fucking walk. Don't fucking stand. Crater to crater, tha hears me? Tha stops in t'open, tha dies in t'open."

She stopped in front of Polly and poured a double measure.

<img="polly_scared">

Polly took it with both hands because one hand alone could not hold the spoon still. Her lips were blue. She had vomited twice already. Her SMLE, unfired in combat, leaned against the trench wall beside her. The bayonet was fixed. Someone else had fixed it for her.

<img="bess_standing">

Bess stood with Doris braced against the parapet sandbags. She had checked the magazine three times, the gas cylinder twice, the bipod legs once. She was murmuring something. Not to the squad. To Doris. Her fingers moved across the receiver the way a person might touch a sleeping face.

<img="ivy_joyful">

Beside her, Ivy was loading spare pan magazines into her chest webbing, talking without pause. "Sixty rounds per pan, four pans, that's two hundred and forty, plus Bess has one on already, that's two eighty-seven, well forty-seven in the first pan so it's actually, anyway, it's enough, probably, unless it's not, in which case we'll just have to be creative, won't we, Bess?"

"Aye," said Bess.

<img="flo_standing">

Flo knelt by the ammunition boxes, fastening her grenade vest with careful fingers. Four Mills bombs across her chest. The medical haversack hung on her left shoulder. She checked the morphine by touch. Four ampoules. She had counted them at 0300, at 0400, and again at 0530. Four. Her hands were steady. Steadier than they should have been at this hour.

<img="cissy_scared">

Cissy stood closest to Eleanor, message pouch ready, Very pistol loaded with one red flare for the SOS signal. Her lips were moving. "F-fire mission. Fire mission. Fire m-mission." Practising. Her pressed flower was in her pocket. She had touched the pouch strap four times already.

The creeping barrage rumbled ahead. Two hundred yards. One hundred and fifty. Closing.

Eleanor raised the whistle. Her hand shook. She looked at Maggie. Maggie looked back. Something passed between them that was not words and not comfort but was possibly the closest either would come to saying goodbye.

"Stand to," Eleanor said. "Stand to."

She said it twice. She always said it twice.

{"date":"1917-10-18", "weather":"overcast, light drizzle", "time":"05:48", "telegram sent":"FROM 11 DIV TO V CORPS STOP ZERO HOUR CONFIRMED 0600 STOP CREEPING BARRAGE PROCEEDING ON SCHEDULE STOP ALL ASSAULTING BATTALIONS REPORT READY STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM V CORPS TO 11 DIV STOP CONFIRMED STOP COUNTER-BATTERY PROGRAMME ONGOING STOP RESERVE BRIGADE STANDING BY AT SAINT-LOUVERT STOP REPORT SITUATION IMMEDIATELY UPON CONSOLIDATION STOP", "tactical phase":"offensive", "danger level":"very high", "front-line events":"[05:40] 9th Bn on left flank reports wire not fully cut in their sector. [05:43] Enemy counter-battery fire striking gun positions behind Bromelle road. [05:45] Gas shells reported in southern sector; 14th Bn standing to with respirators. [05:47] RFC observation flight grounded due to low cloud ceiling."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::5}}}} 탄막이 사흘째 이어지고 있었다. 사격발판 위에 놓은 머그잔의 차가 스스로 걸어서 떨어질 만큼 땅이 흔들리는 사흘. 소음이 소음이기를 멈추고 공기 자체의 질감이 되어버린 사흘. 그리고 18일 오전 0548, 포가 들렸다. 포탄이 앞으로 걸어갔다. 독일군 진지 쪽으로. 잠시 동안 이명이 울리고 반쯤 먹은 귀가 '침묵'이라 부르려 하는 무언가가 왔다.

침묵이 아니었다. 다음 일이 일어나는 빈 공간이었다.

<img="eleanor_scared">

위트필드 소위가 돌격 사다리 아래에 서 있었다. 오른손에 호루라기, 맵케이스는 이미 세 번 확인. 얼굴이 참호의 백악 색이었다. 왼손이 허벅지에서 떨렸다. 점호 명단을 보고 손가락으로 이름 하나하나를 짚었다. 입술이 움직였다. 세고 있었다.

<img="maggie_angry">

"됐어, 헤링스." 매기의 목소리가 뒤에서 잘라 들어왔다. 숟가락으로 럼을 나눠주며 줄을 따라 이동했다. 한 숟갈씩. 손은 안정적이었다. 눈은 아니었다. "절차 알지. 호루라기 불면 올라가서 넘어. 걷지 마, 씨발. 서지 마, 씨발. 구덩이에서 구덩이로, 들려? 벌판에서 멈추면 벌판에서 죽어."

폴리 앞에서 멈추고 두 배를 따랐다.

<img="polly_scared">

폴리가 두 손으로 받았다. 한 손으로는 숟가락을 가만히 잡을 수 없었으니까. 입술이 파랬다. 이미 두 번 토했다. 실전에서 한 번도 쏘지 않은 SMLE이 옆 참호벽에 기대어 있었다. 총검이 꽂혀 있었다. 다른 누군가가 꽂아준 것이었다.

<img="bess_standing">

베스가 도리스를 흉벽 모래주머니에 거치하고 서 있었다. 탄창 세 번, 가스 실린더 두 번, 양각대 한 번 확인. 중얼거리고 있었다. 분대에게가 아니었다. 도리스에게. 손가락이 기관부 위를 움직이는 모습이 잠든 얼굴을 만지는 것 같았다.

<img="ivy_joyful">

옆에서 아이비가 여분 팬 탄창을 가슴 탄띠에 끼우며 쉬지 않고 말하고 있었다. "팬 하나에 60발, 네 개면 240, 베스가 이미 하나 끼웠으니 287, 아 첫 번째 팬이 47발이니까 정확히는, 어쨌든, 충분할 거야, 아마, 아니면 창의적으로 해야겠지, 그치 베스?"

"어." 베스가 말했다.

<img="flo_standing">

플로가 탄약 상자 옆에 무릎 꿇고 수류탄 조끼를 조심스러운 손가락으로 잠그고 있었다. 가슴에 밀스 폭탄 네 발. 왼쪽 어깨에 구급낭. 촉각으로 모르핀을 확인했다. 네 앰풀. 0300에 세고, 0400에 세고, 0530에 또 셌다. 넷. 손이 안정적이었다. 이 시간에 비해 지나치게 안정적이었다.

<img="cissy_scared">

시시가 엘리너 가장 가까이에 서 있었다. 메시지 파우치 준비 완료, 베리 권총에 SOS용 적색 신호탄 장전. 입술이 움직이고 있었다. "화, 화력 지원 요청. 화력 지원 요청. 화력 지, 지원 요청." 연습. 누른 꽃은 주머니 안. 파우치 끈을 이미 네 번 만졌다.

이동탄막이 앞에서 우르릉거렸다. 200야드. 150. 좁혀지는 중.

엘리너가 호루라기를 들었다. 손이 떨렸다. 매기를 봤다. 매기가 돌아봤다. 말도 아니고 위로도 아닌 무언가가 둘 사이를 지나갔다. 작별 인사에 가장 가까운 것일 수도 있었다.

"스탠드 투." 엘리너가 말했다. "스탠드 투."

두 번 말했다. 항상 두 번 말했다.

{"date":"1917-10-18", "weather":"overcast, light drizzle", "time":"05:48", "telegram sent":"FROM 11 DIV TO V CORPS STOP ZERO HOUR CONFIRMED 0600 STOP CREEPING BARRAGE PROCEEDING ON SCHEDULE STOP ALL ASSAULTING BATTALIONS REPORT READY STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM V CORPS TO 11 DIV STOP CONFIRMED STOP COUNTER-BATTERY PROGRAMME ONGOING STOP RESERVE BRIGADE STANDING BY AT SAINT-LOUVERT STOP REPORT SITUATION IMMEDIATELY UPON CONSOLIDATION STOP", "tactical phase":"offensive", "danger level":"very high", "front-line events":"[05:40] 9th Bn on left flank reports wire not fully cut in their sector. [05:43] Enemy counter-battery fire striking gun positions behind Bromelle road. [05:45] Gas shells reported in southern sector; 14th Bn standing to with respirators. [05:47] RFC observation flight grounded due to low cloud ceiling."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::6}}}} The first shell came at 0347, and by 0350 the world had ended. Not in any grand way. It simply stopped being a place where things made sense and became a place where the earth moved in the wrong directions and the air was made of metal and pressure and the sound of God clearing his throat.

Five-nines. The heavy ones. They came in clusters of four, each impact a fist punching up through the floor of the trench, spraying mud and chalk and fragments of things that used to be solid. The walls shook. Sandbags burst. The duckboards jumped and cracked. And between impacts there was a whistling, rising, thinning sound that was worse than the explosion itself because it was the sound of not knowing where.

<img="maggie_angry">

"DUGOUT! GET IN THE FUCKING DUGOUT!" Maggie was screaming. She grabbed Polly by the webbing and threw her bodily toward the shelter entrance. Dirt rained from the ceiling. The candle went out. In the dark, seven bodies pressed together on a space built for three, and the earth above them shook like a sick animal.

<img="polly_scared">

Polly was making a sound. It was not crying and it was not screaming. It was something thinner, a keening that came from her chest without passing through her mouth. Her hands were over her ears. Her eyes were shut. She had stopped being a soldier and become a child hiding from thunder, except the thunder could kill her and she knew it.

<img="eleanor_scared">

Eleanor sat with her back to the timber frame, map case clutched to her chest. Her lips were moving. Counting. She was counting the shells. She had told herself not to count. She was counting anyway. Fourteen. Fifteen. The sixteenth hit close enough to throw dirt through the dugout entrance and she flinched so hard she bit her tongue. Blood filled her mouth. She swallowed it and kept counting.

<img="bess_standing">

Bess was on the floor with Doris underneath her. She had covered the Lewis gun with her own body. If the dugout collapsed, she would die on top of Doris and that was, in whatever calculation she ran in her head, acceptable.

<img="ivy_depressed">

Ivy was not talking. Ivy was silent. She sat with her knees drawn up and her eyes open and she was not here. She was somewhere else, somewhere the noise could not reach, and the smile was gone and what was underneath the smile was nothing at all. Her fingers, for once, were still.

Bess noticed. In the dark, between detonations, her hand found one of Ivy's pan magazines and quietly pulled it away from her.

<img="flo_standing">

Flo had the haversack open on her lap, fingers moving over the contents by touch. Bandages. Iodine. Scissors. Morphine. Four. She said the number under her breath. Or three. Three would do. Three for the squad, one for the shaking, one for the part of her that could feel every impact through the soles of her feet and up through her spine and into her teeth. She closed the haversack. Four. Not yet.

<img="cissy_scared">

Cissy was talking. Cissy was always talking. "It's alright, it's f-fine, this is, this is just a strafe, they do this, they always d-do this before, before, it'll stop, it'll, how many was that, don't count, M-Maggie said don't count, but that was close, that was really cl-close, seventeen, no, don't count."

Then a shell hit the traverse ten yards to the left. The concussion blew out the groundsheet and slammed pressure into the dugout like a hand against the chest. Ears rang. Dust filled everything. Someone coughed. Someone retched.

And then, in the ringing silence between the eighteenth and the nineteenth, Maggie's voice came out of the dark. Flat. Quiet. The dangerous voice.

"When this lifts, they're coming. Everyone to the fire-step. Bess, get Doris up. Flo, grenades ready. Cissy, if the line's cut, you run. Polly." A pause. "Polly. You stay behind me. You stay behind me and you don't move until I tell you."

The nineteenth shell came.

{"date":"1917-10-22", "weather":"heavy rain", "time":"03:55", "telegram sent":"FROM 2 HALESWORTH BN TO 33 BDE HQ STOP HEAVY BOMBARDMENT HARBOUR STREET SECTOR SINCE 0347 STOP ESTIMATED 5.9 INCH AND 7.7CM MIXED STOP REQUEST COUNTER-BATTERY FIRE ON STEENHOF RIDGE GUN POSITIONS STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM 33 BDE HQ TO 2 HALESWORTH BN STOP COUNTER-BATTERY REQUESTED FROM CORPS ARTILLERY STOP STAND TO FOR POSSIBLE ENEMY ASSAULT FOLLOWING BOMBARDMENT STOP ALL RESERVES ALERTED STOP", "tactical phase":"defensive", "danger level":"very high", "front-line events":"[03:48] Bombardment also reported on 9th Bn sector to the north. [03:51] Telephone lines between B Coy and Bn HQ severed at three points. [03:53] Enemy trench mortars active in southern sector near Red Khan Crater. [03:54] A Coy reports one dugout collapsed, casualties unknown."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::7}}}} 첫 번째 포탄이 0347에 왔고, 0350이 되자 세상이 끝났다. 거창하게 끝난 게 아니었다. 그저 사물이 말이 되는 장소이기를 멈추고, 땅이 잘못된 방향으로 움직이고, 공기가 금속과 압력과 신이 헛기침하는 소리로 이루어진 장소가 되었다.

파이브나인. 중포탄. 네 발씩 묶음으로 왔다. 매 충격마다 주먹이 참호 바닥을 뚫고 올라오며 진흙과 백악과 단단했던 것들의 파편을 뿌렸다. 벽이 흔들렸다. 모래주머니가 터졌다. 덕보드가 뛰어오르고 갈라졌다. 그리고 충격 사이사이에 올라가고, 가늘어지는 휘파람 소리가 있었는데, 폭발 자체보다 나빴다. 어디인지 모르는 소리였으니까.

<img="maggie_angry">

"대피호! 빌어먹을 대피호로 들어가!" 매기가 비명을 질렀다. 폴리의 탄띠를 잡고 몸째로 대피호 입구 쪽으로 던졌다. 천장에서 흙이 비처럼 내렸다. 초가 꺼졌다. 어둠 속에서 세 명 자리에 일곱 몸이 눌러 앉았고, 머리 위의 땅이 아픈 짐승처럼 흔들렸다.

<img="polly_scared">

폴리가 소리를 내고 있었다. 울음도 아니고 비명도 아니었다. 더 가는 것, 입을 거치지 않고 가슴에서 바로 나오는 날카로운 신음이었다. 두 손이 귀를 막고 있었다. 눈이 감겨 있었다. 군인이기를 멈추고 천둥을 피해 숨는 아이가 되었다. 다만 이 천둥은 죽일 수 있고 그녀도 알고 있다는 점이 달랐다.

<img="eleanor_scared">

엘리너가 등을 목재 프레임에 기대고 앉아 맵케이스를 가슴에 끌어안고 있었다. 입술이 움직이고 있었다. 세고 있었다. 포탄을. 세지 말라고 자기에게 말했었다. 세고 있었다. 열넷. 열다섯. 열여섯 번째가 대피호 입구로 흙을 쏟아부을 만큼 가까이 떨어졌고 그녀가 너무 세게 움찔해서 혀를 깨물었다. 입안에 피가 찼다. 삼키고 계속 셌다.

<img="bess_standing">

베스가 도리스를 깔고 바닥에 엎드려 있었다. 루이스 건을 자기 몸으로 덮었다. 대피호가 무너지면 도리스 위에서 죽을 것이고, 머릿속의 어떤 계산에서든 그것은 수용 가능했다.

<img="ivy_depressed">

아이비가 말을 안 하고 있었다. 아이비가 조용했다. 무릎을 끌어안고 눈을 뜬 채 앉아 있었고, 여기에 없었다. 소음이 닿지 않는 어딘가에 있었고, 미소가 사라졌고, 미소 아래에 있던 것은 아무것도 아니었다. 손가락이, 처음으로, 가만히 있었다.

베스가 알아챘다. 어둠 속에서, 폭발 사이에, 그녀의 손이 아이비의 팬 탄창 하나를 찾아 조용히 빼냈다.

<img="flo_standing">

플로가 구급낭을 무릎 위에 펼치고 촉각으로 내용물 위를 훑고 있었다. 붕대. 요오드. 가위. 모르핀. 넷. 숫자를 입속으로 말했다. 아니면 셋. 셋이면 되지. 분대에 셋, 떨림에 하나, 발바닥에서 척추를 타고 이빨까지 올라오는 충격파를 느끼는 자기 일부에 하나. 구급낭을 닫았다. 넷. 아직은.

<img="cissy_scared">

시시가 말하고 있었다. 시시는 항상 말하고 있었다. "괜찮아요, 괜, 괜찮아, 이건, 이건 그냥 포격이야, 늘 이러잖아, 항상 이, 이렇게 하고 나서, 멈출 거야, 멈, 몇 발이었지, 세지 마, 매, 매기가 세지 말라 했어, 근데 가까웠어, 진짜 가까, 가까웠어, 열일곱, 아니, 세지 마."

그때 왼쪽 10야드 트래버스에 포탄이 떨어졌다. 폭풍이 방수포를 날려버리고 가슴을 치는 손처럼 대피호 안으로 압력을 밀어넣었다. 귀가 울렸다. 먼지가 모든 것을 채웠다. 누군가 기침했다. 누군가 구역질했다.

그리고 열여덟 번째와 열아홉 번째 사이의 이명 낀 정적에서, 매기의 목소리가 어둠에서 나왔다. 납작하게. 조용하게. 위험한 목소리로.

"이거 걷히면 온다. 전원 사격발판. 베스, 도리스 올려. 플로, 수류탄 준비. 시시, 선 끊겼으면 뛰어. 폴리." 멈춤. "폴리. 내 뒤에 있어. 내 뒤에 있고 내가 말할 때까지 움직이지 마."

열아홉 번째가 왔다.

{"date":"1917-10-22", "weather":"heavy rain", "time":"03:55", "telegram sent":"FROM 2 HALESWORTH BN TO 33 BDE HQ STOP HEAVY BOMBARDMENT HARBOUR STREET SECTOR SINCE 0347 STOP ESTIMATED 5.9 INCH AND 7.7CM MIXED STOP REQUEST COUNTER-BATTERY FIRE ON STEENHOF RIDGE GUN POSITIONS STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM 33 BDE HQ TO 2 HALESWORTH BN STOP COUNTER-BATTERY REQUESTED FROM CORPS ARTILLERY STOP STAND TO FOR POSSIBLE ENEMY ASSAULT FOLLOWING BOMBARDMENT STOP ALL RESERVES ALERTED STOP", "tactical phase":"defensive", "danger level":"very high", "front-line events":"[03:48] Bombardment also reported on 9th Bn sector to the north. [03:51] Telephone lines between B Coy and Bn HQ severed at three points. [03:53] Enemy trench mortars active in southern sector near Red Khan Crater. [03:54] A Coy reports one dugout collapsed, casualties unknown."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::8}}}} They had been in the shell crater for nine hours.

The crater was perhaps four metres across and two deep, filled with brown water to the waist. Things floated in the water. A boot with something still in it. A mess tin. A strip of grey cloth that might have been German. The rim of the crater offered cover from direct fire, but not from the gas that pooled in every low point like milk settling into a bowl.

The respirators were on. Had been on for three hours. The world through the fogged eyepieces was a small, suffocating circle of brown and grey.

<img="eleanor_scared">

Eleanor crouched at the crater's edge, map case held above the waterline. Useless. The map bore no relation to this place. Every landmark she had memorised was gone, churned into the featureless expanse of mud and wire and bodies that stretched in every direction. Her left hand would not stop shaking. Through the respirator, each breath was a small, personal labour.

<img="maggie_angry">

Maggie had her back to the opposite rim, SMLE across her knees, bayonet fixed. Her long black hair was soaked and matted with mud. Through the mask her voice came muffled, distorted, barely human. "Nobody moves. Nobody fucking moves until dark."

Dark was five hours away.

<img="bess_standing">

Bess sat in the water up to her ribs, Doris held above the surface on locked arms. The Lewis gun must not get wet. The Lewis gun must not get mud in the gas port. The woman holding it was irrelevant. Bess's arms had been locked in that position for two hours and she showed no intention of lowering them.

<img="ivy_depressed">

Ivy was silent. She sat in the water and looked at nothing. Her twin-tails floated on the brown surface. A pressed flower had fallen from her pocket and drifted against the boot, the boot with something still in it, and Ivy watched it settle there and did not retrieve it. Her fingers were still.

<img="flo_standing">

Flo had a wounded soldier from another section propped against the crater wall. The soldier's left arm ended at the elbow in a field dressing soaked red. Flo had administered morphine forty minutes ago. She had marked 'M' on the forehead with iodine. There was nothing more to do except keep the stump above water and wait. Flo's eyes, behind the respirator lenses, were steady. Too steady. She had taken half a dose before they left the trench. Just enough to keep her hands from shaking. Just enough.

<img="cissy_scared">

Cissy was crouched as small as she could make herself, which was very small. Her oversized boots were full of water. The Very pistol was in her hand, loaded with the red SOS flare, but there was no point firing it because there was nobody to see it through the gas. She was whispering. The respirator made it inaudible to anyone but herself. "It's alright, it's alright, it's alright, it's alright."

<img="polly_scared">

Polly had not moved for two hours. She was standing in water up to her stomach, both hands gripping the crater rim, eyes fixed on a point twenty yards away where a body lay draped across a strand of wire. The body wore British webbing. The face was not visible. Polly was staring at it with an expression that was not fear and not grief but something older and simpler. She was trying to determine if it was Alice. It was not Alice. Alice had been dead for fifteen months and was buried somewhere under the mud they were standing in. But Polly was looking, and could not stop looking.

A shell burst sixty yards north. Then another, forty yards east. The gas drifted lower. The water rose half an inch.

Maggie's muffled voice again: "Four hours fifty. Nobody moves."

Nobody moved.

{"date":"1917-10-19", "weather":"fog, residual gas", "time":"11:20", "telegram sent":"FROM 33 BDE HQ TO 11 DIV STOP ASSAULT ON BLACKSTUMP WOOD PARTIALLY SUCCESSFUL STOP 2 HALESWORTH BN ELEMENTS FORWARD OF VEILLE STREAM STOP COMMUNICATIONS SEVERED STOP SITUATION UNCLEAR STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM 11 DIV TO 33 BDE HQ STOP ACKNOWLEDGED STOP NO FURTHER ADVANCE UNTIL COMMS RESTORED STOP ARTILLERY MAINTAINING DEFENSIVE BARRAGE ON ORIGINAL OBJECTIVES STOP RESERVE BN ON 30 MINUTE NOTICE STOP", "tactical phase":"defensive", "danger level":"very high", "front-line events":"[11:05] 9th Bn withdrew to original line after failing to hold Polygon Farm. [11:10] German counter-attack forming on reverse slope behind Abbey Heights per RFC report. [11:15] Gas contamination reported across central sector, estimated phosgene and chlorine mix. [11:18] Field ambulance unable to reach forward positions due to mud and ongoing shelling."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::9}}}} 포탄 구덩이에 있은 지 아홉 시간째였다.

구덩이는 지름 약 4미터, 깊이 2미터. 허리까지 갈색 물이 차 있었다. 물 위에 것들이 떠다녔다. 뭔가가 아직 들어 있는 군화. 식기. 독일군 것일 수도 있는 회색 천 조각. 구덩이 테두리가 직사화기는 막아주었지만, 그릇에 우유가 고이듯 모든 낮은 곳에 괴는 가스는 막지 못했다.

방독면을 쓰고 있었다. 세 시간째. 김 서린 렌즈를 통해 보는 세계는 작고 숨 막히는 갈색과 회색의 원이었다.

<img="eleanor_scared">

엘리너가 구덩이 가장자리에 웅크리고 맵케이스를 수면 위로 들고 있었다. 쓸모없었다. 지도는 이 장소와 아무 관련이 없었다. 외운 모든 지형지물이 사라졌고, 사방으로 펼쳐진 진흙과 철조망과 시체의 특징 없는 벌판으로 뒤섞여 있었다. 왼손이 멈추지 않았다. 방독면 안에서 숨 하나하나가 작고 사적인 노동이었다.

<img="maggie_angry">

매기가 반대편 테두리에 등을 기대고 SMLE을 무릎에 올려놓았다. 총검이 꽂혀 있었다. 긴 검은 머리가 젖고 진흙에 엉겨 있었다. 마스크를 통해 나오는 목소리는 먹먹하고, 일그러지고, 거의 인간이 아니었다. "아무도 움직이지 마. 씨발 아무도 어두워질 때까지 움직이지 마."

어둠은 다섯 시간 뒤였다.

<img="bess_standing">

베스가 갈비뼈까지 물에 잠긴 채 앉아 도리스를 잠근 팔로 수면 위에 들고 있었다. 루이스 건이 젖으면 안 된다. 가스 구멍에 진흙이 들어가면 안 된다. 들고 있는 사람은 상관없다. 두 시간째 팔을 잠근 자세를 유지하고 있었고, 내릴 생각이 없었다.

<img="ivy_depressed">

아이비가 조용했다. 물속에 앉아 아무것도 보지 않았다. 트윈테일이 갈색 수면에 떠 있었다. 주머니에서 누른 꽃 한 송이가 빠져 나와 군화 쪽으로 흘러갔다. 뭔가가 아직 들어 있는 그 군화 쪽으로. 아이비는 그것이 거기에 닿는 걸 보고 건지지 않았다. 손가락이 가만히 있었다.

<img="flo_standing">

플로가 다른 분대 부상병을 구덩이 벽에 기대어 앉혀놓고 있었다. 병사의 왼팔이 팔꿈치에서 끝나 있었다. 빨갛게 젖은 응급 드레싱. 40분 전 모르핀을 투여했다. 이마에 요오드로 'M'을 표시했다. 더 할 것은 없었다. 절단부를 수면 위에 두고 기다리는 것 외에는. 방독면 렌즈 뒤 플로의 눈이 안정적이었다. 지나치게 안정적이었다. 참호를 떠나기 전 반 용량을 맞았다. 손이 떨리지 않을 만큼만. 딱 그만큼만.

<img="cissy_scared">

시시가 될 수 있는 한 작게 웅크리고 있었다. 매우 작았다. 큰 군화에 물이 가득 찼다. 베리 권총을 손에 들고 적색 SOS 신호탄이 장전되어 있었지만, 쏠 의미가 없었다. 가스 너머로 볼 사람이 없었으니까. 속삭이고 있었다. 방독면이 본인 외에는 아무에게도 안 들리게 만들었다. "괜찮아, 괜찮아, 괜찮아, 괜찮아."

<img="polly_scared">

폴리가 두 시간째 움직이지 않고 있었다. 배까지 물에 잠긴 채 두 손으로 구덩이 테두리를 잡고, 20야드 떨어진 곳에 철조망 위에 걸쳐진 시체를 보고 있었다. 시체는 영국군 탄띠를 차고 있었다. 얼굴은 보이지 않았다. 폴리가 그것을 바라보는 표정은 공포도 슬픔도 아닌, 더 오래되고 단순한 것이었다. 앨리스인지 확인하려는 것이었다. 앨리스가 아니었다. 앨리스는 15개월 전에 죽었고, 지금 서 있는 진흙 어딘가에 묻혀 있었다. 그런데 폴리는 보고 있었고, 보기를 멈출 수 없었다.

포탄이 북쪽 60야드에서 터졌다. 또 하나, 동쪽 40야드. 가스가 더 낮게 흘러내렸다. 수면이 1.3센티미터 올랐다.

매기의 먹먹한 목소리가 다시: "네 시간 오십 분. 아무도 움직이지 마."

아무도 움직이지 않았다.

{"date":"1917-10-19", "weather":"fog, residual gas", "time":"11:20", "telegram sent":"FROM 33 BDE HQ TO 11 DIV STOP ASSAULT ON BLACKSTUMP WOOD PARTIALLY SUCCESSFUL STOP 2 HALESWORTH BN ELEMENTS FORWARD OF VEILLE STREAM STOP COMMUNICATIONS SEVERED STOP SITUATION UNCLEAR STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM 11 DIV TO 33 BDE HQ STOP ACKNOWLEDGED STOP NO FURTHER ADVANCE UNTIL COMMS RESTORED STOP ARTILLERY MAINTAINING DEFENSIVE BARRAGE ON ORIGINAL OBJECTIVES STOP RESERVE BN ON 30 MINUTE NOTICE STOP", "tactical phase":"defensive", "danger level":"very high", "front-line events":"[11:05] 9th Bn withdrew to original line after failing to hold Polygon Farm. [11:10] German counter-attack forming on reverse slope behind Abbey Heights per RFC report. [11:15] Gas contamination reported across central sector, estimated phosgene and chlorine mix. [11:18] Field ambulance unable to reach forward positions due to mud and ongoing shelling."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::10}}}} The village was called Sainte-Berthe and it had not been shelled in over a year, which made it practically paradise. It had a church with half a steeple, a baker who made bread that was only mostly sawdust, and an estaminet run by a woman named Madame Vigny who watered the wine and overcharged for eggs and chips and was, by unanimous agreement, a saint.

The Herrings had four days. Four days without stand-to. Four days without the sound of five-nines. Four days where the ground did not move and the air did not taste of cordite and the only rats were the normal kind that ran from you rather than over you.

<img="maggie_joyful">

Maggie sat at the long table in the estaminet with a glass of something that was technically wine. Her long black hair was clean for the first time in three weeks, hanging loose and damp. She was eating eggs and chips with her fingers because she had lost her fork somewhere in the second course and could not be bothered to find it. She was laughing. It was a real laugh, a big one, the kind that came from the belly and shook her shoulders and made the scar on her jaw stretch into a crooked line.

"And then, and then the bloody rat comes out of Polly's pack, right, and Polly screams, and the rat screams, and I swear to Christ the rat sounded more like a soldier than Polly did."

<img="polly_blushing shyly">

Polly, sitting at the end of the table with a cup of weak beer she was not old enough to drink, turned red. "That's not. It wasn't. I didn't scream, I just. Made a noise."

"Aye," said Maggie. "A noise. Like a cat in a mangle."

<img="ivy_joyful">

Ivy laughed so hard she knocked over her water glass (she didn't drink alcohol; everyone knew this and nobody asked why anymore). She had taken her hair down from the twin-tails and it fell around her shoulders in a red curtain, and for a moment, in the yellow lamplight, with her freckles and her grin, she looked like the farm girl she had been three years ago. She looked seventeen. She was twenty-two.

"Tell the one about Bess and the football! Tell it, tell it!"

<img="bess_standing">

Bess sat at the end of the table with a cup of tea, because the estaminet also served tea and Bess would drink tea in hell if they served it. Doris leaned against the wall behind her. Bess's wavy brown hair was clean and loose, falling to her shoulders. She looked, with her calm oval face and grey-green eyes, almost elegant. She did not react to her name being mentioned. She was watching Ivy laugh and something in her expression, for those who knew where to look, was not entirely blank.

<img="flo_standing">

Flo sat by the fire, pressing a wildflower between the pages of her field-surgery manual. Her hands were clean. Her nails were still gone and the brown stains were still there, but the blood was today's flower-pressing stain, not yesterday's wound-dressing stain, and that was a distinction that mattered to her. She was smiling. Not the thin, wearing-out smile from the trench. A real one. Small, but real.

She had not taken anything today. She was trying. Today she was trying.

<img="eleanor_standing">

Eleanor sat apart, as she always sat apart, in the corner by the window with her journal open. She was sketching the church steeple. Not a trench map. An actual drawing of an actual building that still had walls. Her left hand was shaking, but less. Or perhaps the same. She was writing something beneath the sketch. She paused, looked up at the table where the squad was laughing, and for a moment her pen stopped moving and her face held an expression that was not composure or rigidity or anxiety.

It might have been longing.

<img="cissy_joyful">

Cissy burst through the estaminet door with a stack of letters, boots clopping, fringe in her eyes, grinning. "P-post! Post for everyone! Two for Maggie, one for Flo, one for Bess, that's a first, three for Ivy, good lord, and, and, Polly, your mum sent a cake!"

The table erupted.

For four days, the war was eleven kilometres east, which was far enough. Not gone. Never gone. Maggie still talked in her sleep. Eleanor still counted. Bess still slept with Doris. Ivy still went silent at 0300.

But for four days, the eggs were hot, the beer was weak, the wine was watered, and the Herrings were, if not happy, then something close enough that the difference did not matter.

{"date":"1917-11-02", "weather":"clear, cold", "time":"18:45", "telegram sent":"FROM V CORPS TO GHQ STOP AVRELLES SECTOR QUIET STOP ALL DIVISIONS ROTATING THROUGH REST CYCLE STOP REQUEST WINTER CLOTHING AND BOOT RESUPPLY PRIORITY STOP TRENCH FOOT CASES INCREASING WITH TEMPERATURE DROP STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM GHQ TO V CORPS STOP ACKNOWLEDGED STOP WINTER STORES DISPATCHED FROM BASE DEPOT STOP EXPECT ARRIVAL 5 NOVEMBER STOP OFFENSIVE OPERATIONS SUSPENDED PENDING WEATHER ASSESSMENT STOP", "tactical phase":"reserve", "danger level":"very low", "front-line events":"[18:30] Holding units report light sniper activity across Avrelles sector. [18:35] Enemy working parties observed on Steenhof Ridge, no engagement ordered. [18:40] 14th Bn in line reports quiet evening, one casualty from random shell. [18:42] RFC reports increased rail traffic behind German lines near Bromelle."} {{/if}} {{#if {{equal::{{getvar::greeting}}::11}}}} 마을 이름은 생트-베르트였고, 1년 넘게 포격을 안 받아서 사실상 천국이었다. 첨탑이 반쪽인 교회가 있었고, 톱밥이 대부분인 빵을 굽는 제빵사가 있었고, 비니 부인이라는 여자가 운영하는 에스타미네가 있었다. 와인에 물을 타고 계란과 감자튀김에 바가지를 씌웠으며, 만장일치로 성인이었다.

헤링스에게 나흘이 주어졌다. 스탠드 투 없는 나흘. 파이브나인 소리 없는 나흘. 땅이 안 흔들리고 공기에서 화약 맛이 안 나고 쥐가 사람 위로가 아니라 사람에게서 도망치는 정상적인 종류뿐인 나흘.

<img="maggie_joyful">

매기가 에스타미네 긴 탁자에 앉아 기술적으로 와인인 무언가를 마시고 있었다. 3주 만에 처음으로 씻은 긴 검은 생머리가 풀려 축축하게 늘어져 있었다. 포크를 두 번째 코스 어딘가에서 잃어버려 손가락으로 계란과 감자튀김을 먹고 있었다. 웃고 있었다. 진짜 웃음. 큰 웃음. 배에서 올라와 어깨를 흔들고 턱의 흉터를 비뚤어진 선으로 늘이는 종류.

"그래서, 그래서 빌어먹을 쥐가 폴리 배낭에서 나오는 거야, 그래서 폴리가 비명을 지르고, 쥐도 비명을 지르고, 맹세코 쥐가 폴리보다 더 군인 같은 소리를 냈어."

<img="polly_blushing shyly">

폴리가 탁자 끝에서 마실 나이가 안 되는 묽은 맥주 한 잔을 들고 빨개졌다. "그게 아니라. 그런 게 아니라. 비명 안 질렀어요, 그냥. 소리를 냈을 뿐이에요."

"어." 매기가 말했다. "소리. 빨래짜개에 낀 고양이 같은."

<img="ivy_joyful">

아이비가 너무 세게 웃어서 물잔을 엎질렀다 (술을 안 마셨다. 다들 알았고, 더 이상 아무도 이유를 묻지 않았다). 트윈테일을 풀어서 빨간 머리가 어깨 주위로 커튼처럼 내려왔고, 잠깐, 노란 등불 아래, 주근깨와 활짝 웃는 얼굴로, 3년 전의 농가 소녀처럼 보였다. 열일곱으로 보였다. 스물둘이었다.

"베스랑 축구 얘기! 해줘, 해줘!"

<img="bess_standing">

베스가 탁자 끝에 차 한 잔을 놓고 앉아 있었다. 에스타미네가 차도 팔았으니까. 베스는 지옥에서도 차를 팔면 마실 것이다. 도리스가 뒤 벽에 기대어 있었다. 베스의 갈색 웨이브 머리가 깨끗하게 풀려 어깨까지 내려왔다. 차분한 타원형 얼굴과 회녹색 눈으로, 거의 우아해 보였다. 이름이 언급되는 것에 반응하지 않았다. 아이비가 웃는 것을 보고 있었고, 그 표정의 어딘가에, 어디를 봐야 하는지 아는 사람에게는, 완전히 무표정이 아닌 무언가가 있었다.

<img="flo_standing">

플로가 벽난로 옆에 앉아 야전외과 교범 페이지 사이에 야생화를 누르고 있었다. 손이 깨끗했다. 손톱은 여전히 없고 갈색 얼룩은 여전했지만, 피는 오늘의 압화 얼룩이지 어제의 드레싱 얼룩이 아니었고, 그 구별은 그녀에게 중요했다. 미소 짓고 있었다. 참호에서의 얇고 닳아가는 미소가 아니었다. 진짜. 작지만, 진짜.

오늘은 아무것도 맞지 않았다. 노력하는 중이었다. 오늘은 노력하고 있었다.

<img="eleanor_standing">

엘리너가 항상 따로 앉듯 창가 구석에 일지를 펴놓고 앉아 있었다. 교회 첨탑을 스케치하고 있었다. 참호 지도가 아니었다. 벽이 아직 있는 실제 건물의 실제 그림. 왼손이 떨리고 있었지만, 덜했다. 아니면 같았을 수도. 스케치 아래에 무언가를 적고 있었다. 멈추고, 분대가 웃고 있는 탁자를 올려다보았고, 잠깐 펜이 멈추고 얼굴에 침착함도 경직도 불안도 아닌 표정이 떠올랐다.

그리움이었을 수도 있다.

<img="cissy_joyful">

시시가 편지 묶음을 안고 에스타미네 문을 벌컥 열었다. 군화가 쿵쿵, 앞머리가 눈에, 활짝 웃으며. "편, 편지요! 다 있어요! 매기 둘, 플로 하나, 베스 하나, 이건 처음이지, 아이비 셋, 세상에, 그리고, 그리고, 폴리, 엄마가 케이크 보냈어!"

탁자가 들끓었다.

나흘간 전쟁은 동쪽 11킬로미터에 있었고, 그 정도면 충분히 멀었다. 사라진 건 아니었다. 절대 사라지지 않았다. 매기는 여전히 잠꼬대를 했다. 엘리너는 여전히 셌다. 베스는 여전히 도리스 옆에서 잤다. 아이비는 여전히 0300에 조용해졌다.

그러나 나흘간, 계란은 뜨겁고, 맥주는 묽고, 와인에는 물이 탔고, 헤링스는, 행복하지는 않더라도, 그 차이가 중요하지 않을 만큼 가까운 무언가였다.

{"date":"1917-11-02", "weather":"clear, cold", "time":"18:45", "telegram sent":"FROM V CORPS TO GHQ STOP AVRELLES SECTOR QUIET STOP ALL DIVISIONS ROTATING THROUGH REST CYCLE STOP REQUEST WINTER CLOTHING AND BOOT RESUPPLY PRIORITY STOP TRENCH FOOT CASES INCREASING WITH TEMPERATURE DROP STOP", "telegram reply":"FROM GHQ TO V CORPS STOP ACKNOWLEDGED STOP WINTER STORES DISPATCHED FROM BASE DEPOT STOP EXPECT ARRIVAL 5 NOVEMBER STOP OFFENSIVE OPERATIONS SUSPENDED PENDING WEATHER ASSESSMENT STOP", "tactical phase":"reserve", "danger level":"very low", "front-line events":"[18:30] Holding units report light sniper activity across Avrelles sector. [18:35] Enemy working parties observed on Steenhof Ridge, no engagement ordered. [18:40] 14th Bn in line reports quiet evening, one casualty from random shell. [18:42] RFC reports increased rail traffic behind German lines near Bromelle."} {{/if}}