Free All I Have to Give by Mary Wood Page B

over to a group that he’d seen Jimmy with, he asked,
‘Where’s Jimmy – has he come back in yet?’
    ‘He’s down there,’ a shaky voice answered. ‘Hurry, Corporal, he needs help.’
    An alarm went off in Albert, but he stayed calm. ‘Righto, leave it with me.’
    Jimmy could see his pals swirling around inside his head. Most of them dead or wounded. They were his new mates – those he’d made since joining up – and Eric
and Arthur, whom he’d known since birth. His mind went over and over how he’d had no choice but to step on Arthur’s body as he fell just in front of him, and how they’d only
gone a few feet when Eric had fallen to the side of him. But when they were burying the dead, he hadn’t found either of them. At least he hadn’t been able to recognize anyone he could
say was them.
    The images began to fade as he thought of his brothers. He’d love to feel their arms around him, or even to hear them teasing him, but at least they were at peace and finished with this
lot. They weren’t sitting in this stinking pit of hell.
    Unable to control his limbs from shaking, he was distracted by a scratching sound.
Rats! The rats are coming!
They lurked around every corner, just waiting to pounce on him. Rats bigger
than their next-door neighbour’s cat back home. They would get him, he knew that. Their beady eyes shifting around in their heads always found him and focused on him.
    Trying to banish them from his mind, he concentrated on thoughts of his mam and dad and a normal life: folk at the factory, a beer at the pub. Even though not of age, the landlord had served him
in the pub yard and had told him to enjoy it. ‘But always keep it in moderation,’ he’d told him. ‘Don’t drink it like your dad does, Jimmy lad. That’s no way to
enjoy beer – swilling it down your neck, one after the other. It makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do.’
    Aye, Jimmy knew them things. He’d witnessed his dad when drunk, beating his mam when she didn’t deserve it.
No! That’s not a good thought. Think of how good Dad is when he
isn’t drunk – a gentle, kind man, who is proud of me. Well, there’s nowt to be proud of now, Dad, because I’m done. I can’t go on.
    Now was the time. As he lifted his gun towards his mouth, a noise to his left caught his attention. Looking towards it, he saw a furry black rat standing on its hind legs.
They’re
coming for me! The rats – they’re coming for me . . . Arghhh!
    ‘JIMMY! God, what the ’ell do yer think yer doing? Christ! Shut that racket up and pull yerself together. Fall in and ’elp the medics.’
    It’s Corporal Albert. He’ll stop the rats. He’ll stop my body from shaking.
‘Help me . . . Help me – they’ll eat me. I’d rather die by the
gun.’
    ‘No, Jimmy. No!’
    His gun was twisted away from him, but he wouldn’t let go; he needed it. He had to have it, had to take himself away from all the rats.
    Strong arms lifted him. A shot rang out. Burning pain seared his hand. Corporal Albert’s anxious voice penetrated the deafness that the blast had rendered on him. ‘Christ! It went
off. Your gun went off – Christ!’
    Other voices now. ‘What happened, Corporal?’ ‘Is Jimmy all right?’ ‘Move out of the way; let the corporal through.’ ‘You’ll be reet, Jimmy.’
A northern voice. Eric? Arthur? No, they’re dead!
    ‘DEAD! You’re all going to die – the rats are going to eat you!’
    ‘Take no notice of ’im; he’s delirious. Get out of me way, lads, I’m taking ’im to the ambulance. It was an accident. He’ll be all right. Doctor Edith will
’ave him back ’ere in no time.’
    The words of the corporals and those of the lads wishing him well swam around Jimmy’s head, as he sank deeper and deeper into the blackness that took him.
    Getting into the first available ambulance to leave from the first-aid post, where they had applied a dressing to the stump that had once been his right hand,