Free We Shall Not Sleep by Anne Perry Page B

Judith had been here for four years, and usually he managed not to think about what she faced, or he would cease to function at all. It was the only way anyone could survive. Most men had family here, or at the very least lifelong friends. They all came from the same few villages. It was what bound them together, made the sharing and the loyalty complete, and the loss devastating.
    He struggled to his feet and followed Tiddly Wop out into the pale, misty daylight. The rain had stopped; a watery sun was gleaming on the mud. Here and there it shone on a flat surface of a crater, making it look like polished steel.
    It was a fifteen-minute hard walk to the colonel's command bunker. Joseph went down the concrete steps and parted the sacking over the entrance. He asked for permission to enter. When it was given he went in and stood to attention. This was farther forward than the Casualty Clearing Station. It was an old German bunker, and deeper than the British equivalent. The floor was dry, the walls lined with pretty decent wood.
    "Sit down," Hook ordered, gesturing to an ammunition box turned on end. They must have taken the chairs when they retreated. Tiddly Wop was right: Hook looked dreadful. "I'm afraid there's been a death at the clearing station," he said grimly. "I've no choice but to call in the military police, but I want you to be there. You know how to keep your head and deal with these things."
    Joseph was confused. There were deaths every day, in the trenches, in no-man's-land, in the ambulances, in the first-aid posts, in the clearing stations, in the fields, and on the sides of the roads, violent, desperate deaths all the time. A hospital was the best place to die, not the worst.
    "One of the nurses," Hook added. "Sarah Price."
    "I'm sorry," Joseph said automatically. "I'll write to her family. What happened?"
    "For God's sake, Reavley!" Hook snapped, his voice near the edge of control. "I wouldn't have woken you up to tell you ifit were an accident! The poor girl was hacked to death with a damn bayonet!"
    For the second time since waking up, Joseph was stunned into complete immobility. He struggled to grasp what Hook had said, and yet the words were clear enough. A nurse had been brutally murdered. Of course the military police had been sent for; there was no other possible action. "Yes, sir," he said slowly.
    "Be there, please," Hook asked. "The men are going to take it very badly. I don't want..." He looked for the right word. "I don't want revenge. I suppose it was one of the German prisoners, but we can't have them all massacred. Do what you can, Reavley."
    "Yes, sir." Joseph stood up sharply. His mind was racing now to Schenckendorff. How would they get him out? He could not tell Hook that the man needed to leave. Perhaps they would find out what had happened quickly and it would all be settled in a day or two, then Schenckendorff s fever would have broken and he could travel. He would be in pain, but so were tens of thousands of men. War was about pain of one sort or another.
    Hook drew in his breath as if to add something further, then let it go again in silence. Joseph excused himself and went to find Matthew before going to the station.
    Matthew was standing with a group of other men around a small fire with a Dixie can of boiling water. He was about to make tea. Joseph greeted him. He turned around, regarding Joseph with some concern. He did not ask what was the matter, but it was clear that Schenckendorff was just as much on his mind.
    "You'd better come," Joseph added simply.
    Matthew thanked the men for the tea, leaving it behind as he fell into step with his brother single-file between the old craters. Only when they could move side by side did Joseph tell him what Hook had said.
    "I suppose he's sure?" Matthew asked, hunching his coat collar up. "That's going to make it harder to get Schenckendorff out, isn't it? They'll be pretty unhappy about German prisoners, even injured ones.
    And I was