EPISODE PROLOGUE: |
First published: 6th August 2017
Status: COMPLETE & PUBLISHED.
Revisions: 3 [last revised May 2018]
Version: Final.
Published Episode No. 22
Previous episode: "Alexandra's titanic night to remember."
Next episode: “Alexandra and the Archaeologists.”
Angel-in-charge: Margret
Team Assigned: Team 74
Mission: 5 - 112345 - 8 - 1916
OTHER INFORMATION:
Currently none apparent.
SMOKING - ALCOHOL USE - VIOLENCE [INCLUDING SEXUAL VIOLENCE & BDSM] - STRONG LANGUAGE - GRAPHIC HARD SEX REFERENCES INCLUDING PROSTITUTION AND DIVERSE SEXUAL PRACTISES - DRUG REFERENCES - ANTI-RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS AND OPINIONS - HUMAN TRAFFICKING - COMMENTS AND BEHAVIOUR THAT MAY OFFEND SOME PEOPLE BUT WERE CONSIDERED 'NORMAL' IN THE TIME PERIOD. |
IF YOU ARE BELIEVE YOU MAY BE OFFENDED BY ANYTHING CONTAINED IN THIS WRITTEN WORK, THEN DON'T READ IT AND CLOSE THE PAGE! THANK YOU. |
This episode has a reading time of approximately 60 minutes.
This story can be found in "The adventures of Alexandra" BOOK SERIES 4 - Episode 1.
 |
1. JERICHO GETS A NEW
CASE.
Jericho and Wilson walked slowly down the bright corridor towards the Angel’s
office; both a little troubled about the summons from James, the Angel in
charge of Collections, he didn’t often call for Temporal Detectives directly.
They were stopped by Rufus who slapped hands with Wilson and nodded a greeting
to Mr. Tibbs. “You’re gonna love this weird shit brother!” Rufus exclaimed,
pushing the dreadlocks from his grinning face; “Man, some dude is messing with
the dying and its fucking up Records; they are coming up short; big time!”
Rufus was the Senior Collector for one entire Century of human existence and
one of the busiest; the 20th. He held a bunch of brown paper folders under his
arm and shook his head, still grinning; “Three of my Collectors have reported
that souls they were supposed to pick up, were still in their damn flesh
suits!” Jericho and Wilson exchanged a puzzled look and Wilson asked; “How can
that be man? Old man Death is always on top form when it comes to Dispatches!”
Jericho nodded his agreement with Wilson’s comments and smiled – Archangel Abraham
who was in command of the Dispatch Department [responsible for scheduling human
deaths] wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘Old Man Death’.
He had worked hard over the Millennia to give his department a new image; Even
the old logo of the skeleton and scythe had been replaced with a bright white
star and the names of his operatives had also been changed to ‘Dispatchers’ from
the old title of ‘Death Stalkers’. The Archangel believed that the changes
would give his department a far friendlier appearance. Jericho chuckled to
himself; I bet the living would disagree with that!
“It’s happening in one place at the start of the century; slam bang in the
middle of a fucking big war!” Rufus tapped gently on the door and added; “We’re
collecting loads every day and so far, nine souls have stayed firmly embedded
in their fucking flesh suits and won’t come out.” He laughed loudly, flashing
wonderful white teeth and threw back his head, the dreadlocks falling about his
shoulders, adding; “Some dude is taking the piss and messing up our records and
that isn’t right.”
Wilson grunted; "Which fucking big war is that; they had lot's in the
century you cover Rufus." Jericho accepted a couple of files from Rufus
but turned to Wilson; "The First World war or the Great War, as it was
originally called before the Second World war dropped by. Basically mass
slaughter; it was the first real war of the Industrial Age and killing was now
mechanized. The result was mass deaths; on a scale never seen before in human
history."
"What's great about a war of mass killing and destruction?" Wilson asked and Jericho had to agree with him. Rufus tapped one of the brown paper files and said quietly; "We have nine souls still in their flesh suits and they were all soldiers who should have died. They were wounded in battle and should have passed over; it was scheduled. They were taken to...." He pulled open the file and then looked back up; "To Casualty Clearing Station No.21 - whatever that means - and every single one of them came into contact with one living human. Bit of a coincidence, eh?"
Jericho smiled; "I don't really believe in coincidence, what year are we
talking about and who was it?" Rufus pulled open the file again and pointed
to the page; "Same dude each time; a Doctor Alexander Harris and the same
year: 1916."
"Well, I think we have enough already, to get authority for a little
mission to that bloody piece of madness and check out this Doctor Harris
character. But we'll need a doctor from that time period for advice on medical
procedures and such. I think I know just the man." Jericho rubbed his chin
and grinned, adding; "And it will make the girls happy."
Wilson gave Jericho a puzzled look, then shrugged his shoulders; "I don't
expect I'll fit in back there." Jericho slapped him on the back;
"You'll fit in like a glove; well, compared to our temporary new
boy." Jericho chuckled; "I'll borrow him from Doc Underhill's
team." Wilson caught on to what Jericho was saying and smiled; "Jesus
Jericho, there won't be many of him around decent white folks back in
1916!" The sarcasm in his voice was obvious.
The door slid open in invitation for them to enter and the threesome walked
quietly in and the door slowly closed behind them.
2. A NEW MEMBER OF THE TEAM - FOR NOW.
Jericho had called a team meeting and the crew assembled in the Drawing Room, well supplied with coffee and tea by the ever-attentive Mr. Harris. When everyone was seated, Jericho nodded to Owen who handed out a couple sheets of paper to each person. Alex quickly cast her eyes over the document and sighed loudly, she sipped her tea and spoke directly to Jericho; “Someone is saving lives of soldiers who should have died?”
“Yes. And messing up the current timeline by doing it; their souls were up for collection, my baby girl!” Wilson commented and stirred more sugar into his thick dark coffee. He turned to the new member of the team and added; “Our lady Alex has a soft spot for the living!” Then smiled and sipped his coffee with relish, while everyone chuckled at his comment – including Alex - who just smiled.
The ‘new’ team member he referred to was a Temporal Detective on loan from
another team: ‘Skyrise Young Mountain’ was a strapping Apache Indian with dark
hair and eyes; he resembled a Greek statue fitted out with a Seville Row suit
and expensive shoes. In any age populated by female humans he would be
considered a handsome man; a very handsome man.
“He’s so bloody handsome, he’s gorgeous!” Whispered young Ruth Hall who was
peeking into the study with the Housekeeper Mrs. Harris; who chuckled and
pointed out to young Ruth that men are not referred to as ‘gorgeous’; but just
‘handsome’. Ruth voiced her disagreement; “No, this one’s gorgeous.” Mrs.
Harris gripped her arm and returned to the kitchen; taking the reluctant House
Maid with her.
Alex studied the young man over her teacup and had to admit to herself that
young Skyrise was quite a magnificent specimen of manhood. She watched him walk
over to the table and place his coffee cup down. He moved like a big cat; with
grace and poise that didn’t match his size.
Had Alex heard young Ruth’s comments, she would agree with her; totally.
Jericho called the meeting to order and explained the forthcoming mission; "In late June of 1916 there is a war happening in Europe and the Collectors are out in force. But some have reported failures to collect certain souls because their lives have been saved and as Wilson pointed out, this is interfering with the Timeline and messing up Records. The Angel is not happy, and we’ve been tasked to investigate and bring this strange phenomenon to a close. I’ve borrowed Skyrise from Doc Underhill’s team because he has special knowledge of this particular time period, especially this war.”
Everyone glanced at Skyrise with the same thought; how the hell is an Apache
Indian an expert on some European war?
Jericho Tibbs must have read their minds or their faces and chuckled loudly,
slapping Skyrise on the shoulder; "People, Mr. Skyrise was one of some
twenty thousand Native Americans who volunteered to serve their country in that
war. He was in France, not at the time of this incident, but the following year
after the United States joined the conflict in 1917. He volunteered as a
Military Surgeon, so you see; he is superbly qualified to assist us.”
Everyone sat in silence, a little ashamed of their ignorance of the person that
stood smiling before them. “May I ask a personal question Doctor Skyrise and please
be assured that I mean no offense by it.” Alex rolled her teacup around in her
hands and smiled at him. He nodded his agreement with no comment.
“How on earth did you end up a Military Surgeon in that racist time period, when
other American’s treated your people like bloody aliens in their own land?”
Alex spoke softly, her voice betraying a little anger and amazement at the
man’s incredible achievement; why had she never heard of his exploits? Skyrise
smiled; “Genetics Lady Alex, simple genetics.” He clasped his hands together
and explained to a very receptive audience how an Apache Indian was posted to
France as a Military Surgeon;
“My father had an aptitude for medicine and the Christian brothers who visited
his reservation saw his talent and arranged for him to receive Medical Training.
But he proved such a good student they enrolled him in Medical School, paying
for a scholarship and giving him a small allowance to survive on. He became one
of the first Native American Doctors and a fine surgeon – but he was only
allowed to treat other Native Americans, Mexicans, the Chinese and African
Americans. He had no white patients. But he met my white mother, who was a doctor
in her own right, and despite the opposition from both families they married.
So you see I was destined to be a doctor; whatever colour I was.” He laughed
and continued; “I practiced medicine on various reservations and quickly became
proficient at gunshot wounds. My people had taken to alcohol and rifles; I was always
busy. There were several mines staffed by the Mexican and Chinese settlers that
used explosives; I became a regular visitor there too and finally when the war came,
I found I was uniquely qualified to be a Battlefield Surgeon. After some
opposition I was accepted into the Army Medical Corp and went to France in late
1917.”
He accepted another coffee from Mr. Harris and stood quietly by the fireplace,
pulling a brown paper folder from his jacket pocket and glancing at the
contents. Jericho addressed the meeting again; “Skyrise has a suspect in mind;
it appears the nine souls that couldn’t be collected all passed through this
person’s hands just before the Collectors arrived.”
Skyrise nodded his agreement with Jericho’s statement; “They all passed through
a surgical unit located behind the Front-Line; No. 21 Casualty Clearing Station
at Corbie, in the Somme Region and a Doctor called Captain Alexander Harris.”
3. THE BIG PUSH.
“There’s going to be a big push there and we should be able to spot what’s
happening, with so many casualties passing through it.” Skyrise collected his
papers and sipped his coffee. “What is a ‘big push’?” queried Owen.
“It’s a colloquialism for a big attack, you know; to push the Germans from
Northern France.” Skyrise did not smile and added; “There will be over a
million casualties on both sides, by the time the insanity ends in the November
of that year and they’ll do it all again the following year, at another part of
the line, with basically the same result.”
“Were they fucking nuts?” Owen said with some amazement; "Maybe some were,
but most were very brave men who believed they were saving their Country from
enslavement.” Skyrise replied and Jericho ordered everyone to the Light-Room.
"The local human agent has made all the arrangements for our party to
attend the Clearing Station as hosted diplomats." Jericho spoke, checking
his mirror, then turned to Alex and Skyrise in particular; "Remember, my
medical friends, this is a 'hands off' mission - don't get involved with the
injured - Understand?"
They both nodded; reluctantly. Alex muttered something under her breath which
made Skyrise smile; but passed unheard by Jericho. The Team headed for the
light-room in silence, watched by Mr. Parker who jumped upon Jericho's armchair
and settled down for a nap. Ruth, who was cleaning up glasses and cups, gave
the big cat a stroke. Then looked up to see John in the doorway; "I'm
afraid you just missed Mr. Tibbs; they have left already." Ruth told him,
filling her tray with dirty glasses and cups.
"What year has he jumped too?" John asked quietly, running a hand
through his dark beard and staring at the floor. "1916." She said and
headed for the kitchen, watching the reclusive John shuffle from the room and
disappear.
"There's something about John. You can feel it." She told Mrs.
Harris, as she washed glasses and cups in the deep sink. Cleo Harris just
smiled; "He's a good man, a very good man." Ruth noticed the odd
smile on Cleo's face; she always spoke highly of the strange man.
"I wonder how the team is getting on." Ruth said to herself, wiping
down the draining board and peering through the kitchen window; watching John
walking along the sea wall, head down and in silence; always on his own, she
thought. He had few conversations with the people he resided with; except
Jericho and Lady Alexandra. She watched him disappear from view, clutching a
book from Jericho's collection. A very odd fellow, she mused and set about
cleaning the kitchen table and chairs.
At first, the little group passed the soldiers practically unnoticed despite
having an Apache Indian, an African American and even a woman – there were very
few women here; in the support trenches that ran behind the Front line – and
finally, a young boy trailing behind the group struggling with a wood and
canvas stretcher. They were only challenged once; by a big Irish sergeant and
his two men who were carrying the rum ration back to their unit in the Front
line.
He saluted Captain Tibbs and asked directly about the Indian and the woman;
Jericho explained that he was escorting an American Journalist; Mr. Mountain to
Casualty Clearing station Number 21. He was doing a piece on the care of the
wounded for the New York Times. The sergeant nodded and shook hands with Skyrise
and mentioned that he was the first ‘Yank’ he had ever met. “Are they all that
bloody big Sir?” He asked Jericho with a smile.
The big Sergeant clearly liked the look of Alex and voiced his disapproval of
such a fine young woman being risked in the support trenches until Captain
Tibbs pointed out that Lady Alex was a representative of the Italian Government
[Allies of the British & French] and had to be afforded access to all areas
for her report on medical care back to the Italian parliament. Jericho also
spoke quietly into the Sergeants ear; “Apart from being a trained Nurse, she’s
the daughter of an Italian Count and Senior Government Minister; she takes
bloody tea with Queen Mary!”
The sergeant whistled through his teeth and nodded, then pointed to Owen;
"Is he underage Sir?” Jericho agreed and explained that Private Owen had
enlisted whilst underage, so had been transferred to the Medical Corp as a
Stretcher Bearer, to shield him from the horrors of war! The Sergeant laughed
out loud at that and pointed the way to Casualty Clearing Station No. 21.
One of the younger Irish soldiers shook Wilson by the hand and admired the
heavy camera that he carried effortlessly on his shoulder; “My brother George
was a great portrait photographer in Wexford, he would love to see that bit of
kit!” The young soldier wiped his face and stared down at his feet; "He
caught one at Loo's last year with the Irish Brigade. Pity really, he was
waiting for a transfer to the Army Photographic Unit, the letter turned up the
day they buried him." Private O'Halloran wiped his face and smiled.
Wilson nodded; “It’s a ‘Speed Graphic’, only made four years ago, she's
manufactured by Graflex, in Rochester, New York. Certainly is a good bit of
kit, as you say.” He replied and all three soldiers commented on his American
accent.
“When the hell are you Yanks coming in?” The Sergeant asked Wilson directly and
Wilson smiled; "Soon as our bloody President grows a backbone!”
That made the three Irish soldiers laugh loudly as they continued down the trench,
waving and shouting ‘bye’ to the strange visitors who were passing through
their world of constant death. Alex pushed her mirror back into her pocket
after reading about the three young men they had just encountered. Owen caught
the look upon her face and said quietly; “Do they make it?” Alex shook her
head: negative. “They won’t see tomorrow’s sunset.” She said simply and glanced
back at the threesome disappearing into the growing darkness of night; still
laughing and talking.
The little group passed on down the trench – Lady Alex received many
‘wolf-whistles’ and several shouts of: “WOW!” - She smiled and gave the men a
little wave, which they cheered. “Just doing my little bit for morale.” She
whispered to Jericho who smiled broadly.
“We’re looking for a trench called ‘Oxford Street’ that runs to the Dressing Station
where we can grab an ambulance to the Casualty Clearing Station.” Jericho
called out as he led the group, in single file, through the damp trench,
passing continuous lines of troops heading for the Front. Alex commented on how
they joked and played about; “You would think they were trying to get into a
football match and not a killing ground.” She muttered to Jericho who suddenly
pointed ahead; “There’s the trench!”
The group stumbled across the broken floor of the trench and into ‘Oxford
Street’. They all could hear the continuous sound of the British barrage
falling upon the German trenches. “It’s been bombing the German lines for days
and when it stops tomorrow; the poor bloody Brits will walk into hell because
the wire won’t be cut in many places and the German soldiers have survived in
deep dugouts – thousands will be killed or wounded in just minutes - after the
battle starts: a disaster, a bloody disaster.” Skyrise shook his head with real
sadness and the group continued down the trench in relative silence.
4. THE DRESSING STATION.
They found the Dressing Station as they rounded the next bend of the trench. Outside the dugout’s entrance lay several stretchers’ with bodies covered with dirty sheets. A young stretcher-bearer was pulling papers, cigarettes and personal items from a headless corpse and stuffing them in a heavy brown bag.
Private John Gates looked up from his gruesome task, pushed back his helmet and smiled; "Good morning, Sir.” He gave a clumsy salute and his eyes fixed upon Lady Alex and the Apache Indian; to say he was surprised would be a grand and foolish understatement. He gulped and wiped his brow, lifting up his tin hat which revealed a mop of thick black hair. Finally, he managed to stutter out; “Are they the party of foreign nobs Colonel Howes is expecting at No.21 Sir?”
Captain Tibbs smiled and nodded; “Two visitors from America and a diplomat from
our Italian allies. Oh, and my soldier servant.” Owen waved and grinned, whilst
Alex noticed that the two boys must be the almost the same age; far too young
for this hellhole she thought. Owen pointed towards a dozen dead men lying
against a small stone wall. Two stretcher bearers were searching the bodies
wearing gas masks and gloves. The bodies were bloated with horrific contorted
faces. Owen spoke quietly to Skyrise; "What the fuck happened to those
poor bastards?"
"Poison gas; If you’re caught without a gas mask, it enters your lungs and
produces a deadly foam - you would basically choke to death - like drowning
without the need for any water." He looked quite grim and added; "The
medics have to wear masks and gloves when dealing with the dead bodies because
the gas remains active on the clothes for some time afterwards - we learnt that
little fact - the hard way." Owen saw the look on Skyrise's face and
didn't ask any more questions of the big man.
"Mind your bleeding backs!" A panting corporal pushed past them,
followed by two older soldiers carrying a stretcher with a young man groaning
and swearing; laid upon it. His right arm was missing from the elbow down and
was wrapped with a blood-soaked field dressing. His right leg was open from the
thigh down and tied with his belt to prevent the blood spurting. They laid him
down outside the entrance to the tent and corporal shouted in for help.
A tired looking young medic wandered out and knelt down next to the injured soldier; wiping his blood-stained hands with a rag. "He needs immediate removal to the Clearing Station; I can't do much for him here; except give the poor bugger some morphine."
Skyrise was about to interject, when he saw the look on Jericho's face and the little wave of his hand, simply indicating; back off.
"The
next ambulance is due in half hour." The medic muttered and started to
examine the wounds more closely. Alex took a little breath; "He needs to
go now private, and I mean now."
The young medic looked up and slightly smiled; "Sorry miss. But I can't
produce ambulances out of my arse; so he'll have to wait." He stood up and
threw the blood-soaked cloth into the mud - he didn't smile - then disappeared
back into the tent. The corporal muttered; "Bastard." quite softly
and covered the groaning soldier with a piece of canvas and let him drink from
his water bottle.
"He'll be dead long before that ambulance shows up." Skyrise spoke to
Jericho, then added; "And this is a quiet day on the front; wait until
tomorrow, when there will be thousands like that young man arriving here and
even more laying in no-man's land with no chance of surviving their
wounds."
The group stood around in relative silence until Alex said quietly to Jericho;
"He's going to die without some proper medical attention. Skyrise and I
can help him. Please, please let us do so - I'm willing to beg you if I have
too - but please let us help him, please."
A grim faced Jericho simply said; no. Alex pulled up her dress a little and
knelt down in the mud and stared up at Jericho; the tears in her eyes clear and
obvious; "Please let us help him - please." The corporal and the two
older soldiers couldn't actually believe what they were seeing, and they passed
cigarettes between themselves in total silence.
Jericho folded his arms and sighed; quite deeply. Then looked down at the young
soldier; groaning and swearing, his face white as snow; he was dying. Jericho
held out his hand to Alex and slowly pulled her up. "You can have this one
on me. But only this one not one more, do you understand?" He spoke softly
into her ear with clear disappointment in his voice. He would have to square
this with Angel Margret; later.
Alex and Skyrise rushed to the stretcher, yelling for the young medic to bring
bandages, heavy dressings and clean water. They worked on the boy for some
minutes as everyone watched - a little crowd had gathered - finally, they
pulled away from the stretcher with smiles of real satisfaction upon their
faces.
The young medic nodded to Jericho; "I've seen a lot of doctors and
surgeons working on the men and those two are about the best I've seen in a
long time." He spoke with real respect in his voice. "Why the hell
aren't they in uniform?" He added, lighting up a 'Woodbine' cigarette.
Jericho explained quietly that one was from a neutral country and the other was a diplomat from an allied country. They shouldn't be doing anything like it - but they had done so - he shrugged his shoulders and walked away; unsmiling.
Wilson grinned at Skyrise and whispered; "I told you that our lady Alex
has a soft spot for the living!” They both chuckled, watching Alex wiping blood
from her hands and dress. But a thin sergeant appeared and barked orders at the
young private; to fetch Lt. Kenning who was to host the visiting party. He
looked like a young version of Lord Kitchener; sporting a huge dark moustache
and mad eyes. He introduced himself to Jericho with a salute and apologised
that the roads were so choked with troops and supplies that they would leave
tomorrow morning at seven. The ‘guests’ would be accommodated overnight in the
ruins of a small farmhouse.
“It’s quite comfortable Sir – very few rats - the lady can wash up there, I'll
arrange for some warm water for her and get some hot meals for your people.” He
announced, saluted again and shouted fresh orders at the hapless young private to
help with any equipment the visitors may have. Thus Jericho and his team
settled down for the night, with the British barrage as bedtime music in the
distance.
Alex lay against the wall with a rough blanket wrapped around her. Owen was brewing tea and handed Alex a cup of hot sweet tea. "Well, did he make it? I saw you checking your mirror." He eased himself down next to her and sipped from his cup. Alex nodded; "Young Patrick O'Rook - aged nineteen from Limerick - will survive his wounds and despite losing a leg and part of his arm, will marry his childhood sweetheart and live until 1955. They didn't have any children and his widow - Katherine - died in 1961. He was a good man by all accounts; respected and much loved by family and friends. He managed to have a good and worthwhile life despite his injuries.”
Owen smiled and then said quietly; "I still think a little apology to Jericho is in order; I mean, for putting him on the spot like that." Alex leaned back against the wall; "You’re probably right Owen. I'll speak to him now." Alex, still in the blanket, wandered outside the little ruined cottage and found Jericho watching the flashes of the guns, arms folded and in quite a sombre mood. She slipped her arm through his and just nodded. Jericho smiled. The pair both knew that such apologies weren't needed between true friends.
5. AN ACT OF MERCY OR LUST?
Alex left her small room with only part of a roof and stood by the door, watching the flickering lights of the big funs firing onto the German lines. The dull sound of the guns drifted in the still warm night air. She folded her arms and sighed, standing in just her underwear, her uniform was hanging up to keep it clean and uncreased. She wasn’t going to sleep in it when there was no need. That’s when she jumped a little, just around the corner she could hear something. Now she was surprised; it sounded like someone crying!
She stepped from the doorway and investigated. It was Lt. George Kenning leaned against the wall with both hands, head down and sobbing like a lost child. Alex walked over and placed a hand upon the young man’s shoulder, and he suddenly straightened and turned, wiping his face. “Can I help you madam?” he said quietly then just stared, Alex had forgotten she was just in her lace bodice and panties! But she wasn’t too bothered and asked the young man what was wrong. He didn’t smile and simply waved a hand towards the gun flashes. He didn’t say anything for a second or two, “I’m bloody nineteen years old and I know that I won’t see my twentieth. Eight of us passed out of Officer’s school four months ago, and only John Page and I are left. And there’s a bloody big battle tomorrow and my unit will go over in support of the Sussex’s.” He ran a hand over his face and added, “I’ve not even….Haven’t even…..I have never been….” He stopped talking and stared at the ground.
Alex touched his face, “You mean, you’ve never been with a woman?” He slowly nodded and took a breath, whispering, “Bloody funny ain’t it, I’ll die and never know what bloody life was really all about. I can’t bring myself to go with a French prossie [prostitute] I can’t stand the thought that she only lets me because I am paying her. I want a woman to want….” He stopped and managed a smile, “I shouldn’t burden you miss with my daft thoughts.” Alex touched his face again and smiled, “There not daft, quite natural actually, you simply want to live and taste some of life’s real pleasures. Like making love.” He sort of smiled, “Yeah, that’s about right. Fat chance though, I move to the Support trenches in just four hours.” Alex now smiled and said softly, “Yes, but you have four hours. What’s your name?” He ran a hand over his young face and said quietly, “George.”
“Mines Alex George, and I have been married. So I do understand a young man’s feelings.” She ran her hand down his tunic and took hold of his hand which he gripped tightly. “We have four hours then.” Was all she said. Young George may have been inexperienced with women but unsurprisingly, he was keen to learn! Alex started her impromptu sex lesson by helping him remove his uniform and while she did that, he removed her bodice and panties with hands, quite frankly, that trembled with delight and disbelief. He just stared at her naked body in the moonlight and thanked God for his mercy.
Alex guided his hands to her big heaving breasts, and he took possession of them with some joy, so, she gently pushed his head down and his mouth thoroughly enjoyed her large dark nipples, that hardened to his sucking. She ran her hands down his chest and thighs and really smiled, young George was certainly well equipped for the task ahead! She took his free hand – the other one was busy trying to milk her other tit – and placed it between her legs. He was quick to learn and caressed and fingered her already wet and welcoming fanny. “I know you won’t last very long the first time, but it will give you some idea of what to do.” She whispered and he nodded vigorously, young George would really pay attention to this lesson.
Alex lay on her makeshift bed, pulling her soft travelling bag under her head and opened her legs fully, running a hand down to her vagina and told him to push his erect cock into her. He was between those long legs in an instant and clumsily tried to push his cock into her. He cussed at his failure, but Alex reached down and gripped it, gently pushing it into her. She had to remind the excited young man not to lean on her, but us his hands to support his body. He apologised and she took hold of his buttocks with both hands and told him to push. He did a few gentle pushes and Alex asked him how it felt. “Like my bloody head is about to explode! Unbelievable!” he gasped and thrusted a little harder. Alex ran a hand over his face and told him to fuck her as he liked, to enjoy her body and he did! As Alex expected, he didn’t last long and was soon groaning as he ejaculated into her. “Good boy, let’s get you ready to try again.” She whispered and had him lay on his back while she set to work on his flaccid cock with her mouth, lips and tongue. The young man watched his now rapidly erecting cock in her mouth with wide eyes and heavy breathing. He was soon ready to fuck again and back in the missionary position, Alex let him mount her and he fucked her hard, just as she liked it.
She pulled his happy head to her and taught him French kissing which the pair enjoyed immensely, and he didn’t stop fucking until he came again. He lay back groaning and taking deep breaths, then turned and kissed Alex again, actually thanking her for her generosity. She just smiled and guided his mouth back to her tits and he suckled like an infant, while she played with his soft cock. They rested for about twenty minutes, then she tried him in the ‘doggy’ position which he really enjoyed, and he obeyed, when she told him that he could play with her arse, if he wanted. George soon had three or four fingers in her anus and Alex told him, he could replace those fingers with his cock, if he wanted. Young George didn’t need to be told twice! He now fucked her arse with the same vigour he did her fanny.
Alex rubbed and fingered her crotch as George fucked her arse and had a little orgasm which made her groan loudly. George stopped and asked if she was alright, and Alex explained that women [and most men] made such noises during lovemaking and so George continued to fuck her. He lasted almost half an hour before having his third ejaculation of the night and Alex chuckled to herself about ‘the joys of youth’. With the lessons finished, they lay together talking, with George exploring her body with his hands and mouth. Alex told him about pleasing a woman with his mouth and he really wanted to try that, and Alex knew she had to clean herself up. So she allowed him to watch her piss and then clean her vagina with some water and her hankie. When she lay back – legs open again – he was straight down there without being told and spent some time feasting on her oyster. He was actually really good at it and hit her ‘spot’ almost immediately. Now that did impress Alex and she whispered encouragement, stroking his dark hair with one hand, while the other worked her breasts. She enjoyed a small orgasm and now tired, the pair slept together until just before dawn.
George had morning reveille to deal with and so dressed and very reluctantly left Alex, pushing a scrap of paper into her hand before kissing her with some surprising passion. She washed in cold water and dressed, finding Owen eating a plate of beans by a big brazier. She gripped the paper and knew that young George had probably written down his address in London for her to contact him there. Owen glanced at the note, “What’s that? Anything important?” Alex nodded, then dropped the paper in to the brazier muttering “Very important. A young man’s hopes and dreams.” Owen just slowly nodded and finished his beans.
6. CLEARING STATION NO.21
The following morning was clear and warm. After a light breakfast of porridge,
bacon, egg and funny tasting tea, Lt. Kenning organised for two staff cars to
carry the visitors to Casualty Clearing Station Number 21.
Owen asked Skyrise why the tea tasted so strange and was told that chlorine was
used to keep the water fresh and that tainted the flavour, Owen seemed quite
anxious; “Christ! don’t they use that stuff in poisonous gas?” Everyone
chuckled and gathered by the two cars in the warm morning sunshine, where
Jericho gave a final briefing to his group.
The two Vauxhall D-Type’s had their engines cranked by their drivers and the
party split between the vehicles; Jericho, Alex and Lt. Kenning pulled away in
the first car to leave; driven by a fat private with bad teeth who grinned
constantly at Alex. The second car had the thin Sergeant, Skyrise, Wilson and
Owen aboard; their driver was a tall man who appeared to be quite old for a soldier,
but he certainly could drive. He admitted to Wilson that he was 61 years old
and had been a Chauffeur to some Lord and Lady in Yorkshire, but decided to do
‘his bit’, so he lied about his age and joined up; only to be a bloody
‘chauffeur’ to officers now!
As the little convoy pulled away from the front, Jericho and Alex looked behind
them and realized that the British barrage had stopped, for some moments there
was a strange quietness and then an odd sound could be faintly heard.
“Tac, Tac, Tac.” Skyrise whispered and Wilson asked him what that means, Skyrise sighed and wiped his brow; “German machine guns killing thousands of young men.” He sat hands clasped in his lap; head bowed and said nothing more until they reached Casualty Clearing Station No.21. Lt. Kenning, sitting next to Alex, smiled at her and watching Jericho carefully, ran his hand up her skirt and gently caressed her thigh, taking real delight in playing with her suspender and stocking top. She ran her hand over his crotch and was not surprised to find he almost had an erection. They had to move their probing hands when Jericho’s attention returned to them.
Several German shells landed ahead of them, and Lt. Kenning shouted, “They have the bloody road targeted! We need to find cover, they will really paste us now!” The sergeant obviously agreed with his lieutenant and had stopped their car, abandoning it, to dive into a large roadside ditch. Jericho and the driver jumped into a large shell-hole, while Alex and the young Lieutenant took cover by a broken-down truck that had only one wheel. Hiding beneath the wreck, they kissed passionately as more shells fell on the road and Alex fumbled with the buttons on his flies and pulled out his now erect cock. He kept watch as she gave him an amazing blowjob which he appreciated and rewarded her by cumming in her mouth. He chuckled as she swallowed every drop and then cleaned his quivering cock. Wiping her moth, she grinned and said it was better that the bloody breakfast they had been given!
George now kissed her with real passion and whispered that he loved her, and she should now become his wife! Alex just smiled and said nothing, she would not destroy his dreams, not when he could be dead in just a few hours. She wouldn’t check her mirror and discover his fate, she had already promised herself that.
The German shelling stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the little group returned to their cars which had escaped the shells and they set off again. Jericho and the lieutenant were talking quietly, and Alex really didn’t want to listen, but she found she was. George was studying Civil Engineering at London University and wanted to build bridges. He lived with his mother [Edith] and Father, John [who was a civil engineer for the Metropolitan Water Board] and he had a younger sister and brother [Emily and John Jr] and they lived in Brixton.
He had been one of ‘Kitchener’s Volunteers’ and had been sent on an officers course because he was a university student and the ‘New’ army desperately needed officers: even nineteen-year old’s straight – basically – from school. Alex turned away, she didn’t want to hear anymore about the young man she had taught love too. That would make his loss far too personal.
As the visitor’s convoy arrived at the clearing station, which was placed in the abandoned school at La Neauville; they saw that behind them came a long stream of ambulances, Lorries and carts. They could hear a bell tolling and the station seemed to burst into activity as nurses and orderly’s started to gather by the large iron gates of the school complex. A very tall officer strode to the head of the crowd and shouted orders as he pulled his jacket off and handed it to a young nurse – he was organizing the station to take casualties – many casualties.
“That’s him; Captain Harris.” Skyrise said, jumping from the car with Wilson
and Owen. “Can we help?” Skyrise shouted and helped Alex from the other car.
Harris stared at Skyrise and shouted; “Yes, stay out the bloody way!”
Lt. kenning had only minutes before he had to return to his unit, they would be moving up to the front line to replace the units that gone into action. Another officer would take charge of the visitors party and return for them. The pair managed to kiss a few times without being seen and he was gone. Alex watched the cars disappear with great sadness but was happy that the young man had a taste of real life before it could be snatched from him. She walked into the hospital, head bowed a little.
7. THE MAN AND THE HOUR.
Col. Howes greeted the little group of visitors briefly; they, of course, understood the urgency of the situation; with mass numbers of wounded and dying men to attend. He was particularly surprised when both Alex and Skyrise offered their help and even more so when he discovered that Alex was a Nurse [Alex is, of course, a fully trained doctor. But playing a nurse as part of her cover on this mission] and Skyrise was a Native-American Surgeon – So it was explained - that was the reason why the Newspaper sent him, and the Italian Government had dispatched Lady Alex.
But Captain Harris displayed real reluctance to accept the assistance of either of them. That was noted by everyone in the group. Wilson spoke softly to Jericho; “I see he doesn’t want us around. I wonder why that is?” Jericho just nodded in reply and the group was shown their quarters by a young Trainee Nurse; Rachel Goldman, who seemed fascinated by Alex and Skyrise – who admitted that she had never encountered an Apache Indian - apart from those in her young brother’s novels about the American Wild West and she definitely liked what she saw!
The young nurse seemed in awe of Alex and kept calling her; ‘My lady.’ Alex told her on several occasions to call her just ‘Alex’. But there really was no time for long introductions as the wounded started to arrive in large numbers. Col. Howes announced that a hospital train would arrive that evening to collect the most seriously wounded [but could be moved], for transfer to both civilian and military hospitals in the cities.
A tall, dark haired Staff Nurse stopped the group as they walked and stared at Alex; "Don't I know you?" She asked with great hesitation in her voice and then half smiled; "Its Alex, Doctor Alex Featherstone, isn't it?" Alex glanced at her teammates and shook her head; "No, I think your mistaken Staff. Right first name but wrong about everything else." Deliberately making her Italian accent clear - Alex smiled and the group moved on – with her colleagues looking a little puzzled by the incident; except Jericho.
But everyone could hear the Staff Nurse speaking to a couple of her friends
[other nurses] in the quiet corridor; "You could knock me down with a
feather, I would swear on my mother's grave that is Alex Featherstone. She and
I served together at Whitechapel Hospital at the turn of the century. Her
father was a senior surgeon there, I thought she would be at least; a qualified
Doctor by now, but if it’s her, she doesn't appear to have aged a single day
since I last saw her and...."
The woman's voice faded as they reached the Doctors rest room and were served tea and sandwiches. Wilson stood close to Alex and whispered; "How does some lady in 1916 know you, when you died in 1801, in Italy?" He smiled a little, when Alex answered; "Well, because she doesn't and is wrong. Merely has me mistaken for someone else." Wilson shrugged his shoulders and said; "O.K. that's fine by me; mistaken identity, eh?" He grinned; "Anything you say baby girl!"
Alex
directly asked Colonel Howes how she and Skyrise can be of assistance. But
Jericho reluctantly pulled both Alex and Skyrise to one side and reminded them
of their mission here and if both assisted in saving lives of men who would
probably die from lack of immediate medical care, they would have some explaining
to the Angel - like he already had to do so – he didn’t smile.
Skyrise accepted the reprimand with good grace, but Alex just folded her arms
and said nothing. Wilson smiled and gripped Skyrise by the arm and the pair set
about helping the Stretcher-bearers carry the casualties in. Young Owen was
already busy doing
the same and Alex volunteered to make endless cups of tea, whilst Jericho kept
a close eye on Captain Harris.
8. MADE BEFORE ITS TIME.
In a quiet spell that evening, the group rendezvoused by the old boiler house of the school and talked softly about the day's events. They all had mugs of tea and cheese sandwiches, they all stood; except Alex; Wilson had found her an old armchair to doss in and she accepted it gratefully; she had been on her feet since arriving here.
That's when Skyrise waved them into relative silence; something had caught his
sharp eyes. "Over there, where the ambulances and trucks are parked."
He didn't point and everyone casually cast their eyes in that direction.
It was Captain Harris with an Orderly and one of the vehicle mechanics. The
orderly was pushing a sack barrow which contained something obviously heavy and
was covered in a dull, green sheet. The mechanic was wiping his greasy hands
and saying that it had been fixed. Jericho caught some of the conversation as
they passed by - 'Wires, Copper conductors and fuses' were mentioned - and the
threesome disappeared towards the surgical unit at a good pace.
Jericho motioned to Skyrise to make a discrete call on the captain and find out what was under the sheet. Skyrise smiled and made for the surgical unit in a casual manner; finishing his tea and sandwich's as he walked. That's when he heard the little bell being rung - indicating an emergency within the Surgical unit - so he increased his pace and arrived outside Operating Room 4 in time to see Captain Harris and the strange contraption being wheeled into the room, which had another Doctor and two nurses already waiting. Skyrise placed himself by the small window in the door and watched carefully at the frantic actions of the medical staff, gathered around the patient on the operating table. He was very surprised to see sparks flying about and suddenly he realised that there was an elderly lady standing in the corner of the room. Jericho had now joined him, and pair realised that the nice old lady was Kate; a collector. She looked over to them and shrugged her shoulders, they watched her close the 'Soul Ledger' she was holding and disappear.
They walked from the building and found Kate waiting for them at the old boiler
house and the conversation amongst the group was quite lively. "She was
about to scoop up the young soldiers soul, when bang! - There were sparks and a
strange smell - and the soul was firmly back into its flesh suit!" Wilson
shook his head but smiled. "He's using some kind of early defibrillator
and restarting the heart. Little wonder the Records department is coming up
short; such a machine didn't appear until the 1930's." Skyrise spoke
softly and with a little admiration in his voice.
Jericho rubbed his chin and looked back to the hospital building; "Owen,
pull the good Captains record and find out, if there have been any breeches of
the time-line where he has been found." Owen nodded and pulled his mirror
out and sat on the table edge, sipping his lukewarm tea.
"Maybe he's just invented the damn thing twenty years before anyone else
thought of it." Alex finished her tea and stretched loosely in the evening
sunshine and really wanted to soak her poor feet. Jericho shook his head;
"If that's the case; why wasn't such machines in use immediately after the
war? How come the first official use of such a device, doesn't appear until the
1930's?"
"Good point." Muttered Skyrise and they said farewell to Kate, who wandered off to the General ward to pick up a couple of young men who had just died in their sleep. No one had noticed that the pair were bleeding internally; caused by a nearby shell burst as the they were caught by machine gun fire.
"If he came up with it by a natural process or idea, then we could have a 'Mandela Effect' on our hands and that means changes to the current timeline which were unexpected - like saving the lives of hundreds of soldiers and later - it could run into thousands; everyone changing the time-line and maybe not for the best." Jericho finished his now cold tea with a grimace and added; "If not, we need to find out who told him and it would have to be someone from the future - an illegal time-traveller – who wants to change history."
Owen pushed his mirror back into a uniform pocket and sighed; "Sorry
Jericho, there's nothing really of interest - but our good Doctor doesn't survive
the war - he gets killed in a few months and his soul was collected correctly.
I'm still waiting on possible time breeches near him." Jericho grunted his
thanks and with their refreshments finished, the little group made their way
back to the organized chaos and horrors of the casualty clearing station.
9. COLLECTORS EVERYWHERE.
Alex had the delightful job of emptying bed pans, which she completed without a single moan; that seemed to amaze young nurse Rachel Goldman, who normally would be tasked the job. "You’re a fine lady, you shouldn't be doing this." She informed Alex as they emptied several ripe bed pans together. But Alex just laughed; "Believe me Rachel; I've done worse than this in the service of God." Rachel didn't quite understand that, but she still smiled.
The conversation turned to Captain Harris and unsurprisingly, Nurse Rachel was
full of praise; "He works long hours, he really cares for the boys, and he
actually treats us nurses with some respect - not like some of the other
doctors - they really think we're their personal slaves." The girls
stacked the clean pans, covering each with a cloth and Rachel continued;
"He really fights for the boys, he often says that's it’s a battle between
him and God."
Rachel fell silent as Sister Isabella passed by, on her way to the General
ward, but she stopped by the Sluice Room door and smiled at Alex; "I
wonder if you can assist me, Lady Cappanni." She asked and Alex nodded;
"Of course Sister, how may I help?"
After thoroughly cleaning and disinfecting her hands and arms, she joined the Sister walking towards the ward. "We have a couple of your countrymen in the General Surgical Ward; they were airman on some kind of special mission but were shot down nearby - along with a couple of our planes [English] - our boys didn't make it. They are quite shot up and Doctor Marks doesn't believe they will make it." She pushed open the doors and Alex followed her in the large, crowded room, packed with beds, men and nurses.
An orderly pushed a trolley past carrying a body covered by a blood-soaked sheet; the sister stopped and the read the brown tag; "Peter, make sure Doctor Davis knows about the captain - he knew the man's brother - they were at school together." The young orderly nodded and wheeled the dead man away. Alex watched as the late Captain of Engineers departed with Kasim, his collector; who waved and smiled. Sister Isabella Edwards, who obviously could not see or hear the departing pair, pointed forward and walked on.
"As I was saying Lady Cappanni, the two Italian pilots won't be here much longer, and we really need to know who they are; their identity papers were blood soaked and burnt. We really need to know their names or unit; anything that may identify them. But both are lapsing in and out of unconsciousness and rambling in Italian. Do you think you can get some details for us?"
Alex nodded, and the pair arrived at the first bed; closed off by some drab-coloured
curtains and the sister pulled back the flap and went in, Alex followed and was
a little taken back by the sight. The young pilot was covered with wet sheets
and lay upon a rubber mat; "He has major burns from the crash and is in
great pain despite the morphine doses. I think death will bring welcome relief
for the poor boy." The Sister whispered and picked up the clipboard and
wrote a couple of words and checked her fob watch, adding; "It’s almost
time for another morphine shot; this is very unpleasant for all of us."
Alex pulled up the single rough chair that stood in the corner and sat by the boys head and started to speak to him in Italian. The sister was joined by Nurse Patricia Kelly who carried a needle and morphine vial on a little covered tray. The boy started to speak slowly, in broken little sentences punctuated by deep groans; Alex grabbed up the clipboard and with half a pencil, started to write on the blank rear of the form. Nurse Patricia had prepared his dose and Alex took the needle from her; "I'll do it." She said simply - the look of relief on the young nurse’s face was obvious - and the sister told her to go and help elsewhere.
Alex administered the injection, and the boy made no noise; except to whisper in Italian. Alex stood up and handed the clipboard back to Sister Isabella; "His name is Roberto Russo, he is nineteen years of age and asks if he can see his mother to say goodbye." Alex walked quietly through the curtains; she was quite amazed that she had stopped the tears from showing. She swallowed hard and folded her arms, staring at the enormous amount of suffering in just this little ward and thought about the hundreds of other wards along the front - both sides of the trenches - each one full of Roberto Russo's; "Where's the other boy?" She asked the sister.
The sister pointed over to another set of curtains and the pair walked in silence to them. They were stopped by Doctor Marks, who emerged from the curtains and shook his head; "His gone."
That
was all he said and walked away. Only Alex could see the young woman with the
late Captain Luca Ricci as they disappeared into the light.
"I think a cup of tea is in order." Sister Isabella gripped Alex by
the arm and took her to the sister’s small office outside the ward. "If
ever you decide to return to a proper job, one for which you are more than
obviously qualified, let me know. True nurses are hard to find; even in the
middle of a bloody, God forsaken war." The pair of women sat drinking tea
quietly, until the Sister was called back to her never-ending duties - Alex
accompanied her - rolling up her sleeves and putting on a clean apron. "Fuck
it." Was all she muttered.
More wounded were arriving every few minutes and Alex noticed several strangers
wandering amongst the growing numbers of injured and dying men; clutching
little black books and no-one but Alex could see them; a couple silently nodded
their greeting and continued to collect souls.
She walked to the sluice room and took a couple of breaths, then saw the thin sergeant being helped to the bandage dressing room, his left shoulder wrapped in a blood-soaked cloth and Alex was straight out the door and helped the orderly with him. He smiled and pointed to his shoulder, “Caught a right one as I stepped over the sandbags, didn’t get more than ten yards before Jerry got me. But then the bast….the Huns got most of us before we even reached their damn wire. Bloody massacre, that’s what it was miss. I hope your reporter friends tell the people that, a bloody massacre.” Alex nodded and said she would, then taking a breath [she couldn’t stop herself] asked about Lt. Kenning. The sergeant didn’t smile, “I saw him miss, out in blooding front, waving his pistol and shouting for the lads to follow him. He was only a boy really but brave like a young lion. A Machine gun cut him down and several of the boys with him. cut them up bad it did miss.” His voice was trembling as he recalled the scene. They reached the dressing table, and the sergeant was helped to sit on it. He ran a hand over his face and almost whispered; “Never seen anything like it miss….It…I mean, the bloody machine gun just…..just cut them up. It took off arms, legs, and…..It just cut them up like bloody meat.” He started to sob, trying to apologise, but Alex just held him close and stroked his head. She couldn’t think of anything to comfort his terrible pain at losing most of his friends and comrades in just a few minutes. He pulled himself together and apologised again, “He’s still laying out there, shot to shit, calling for his bloody mother, fucking God or any bastard to come and ease his pain. But the jerry’s are shooting any stretcher-bearers who try and collect them. So the boy is lying there, fucking dying…..fucking shit war! Fucking shit generals and fucking shit politicians!” He started to sob again, and they laid him on the table and Alex administered a sedative while she attended his wounds. The young orderly wiped his face and asked Alex very quietly if he could be excused. Alex nodded, he was no older that George Kenning, who lay dying in terrible pain, calling for his mother amongst thousands of other dead and dying mother’s son’s.
“You summed it up well sergeant, A fucking shit war.” She muttered with real restrained anger and called for a nurse to help undress the sergeant and get him into a bed.
10. STAND DOWN.
Jericho called the team together by the boiler house and shared a very good
bottle of brandy with them. It was such good quality that no-one poured any
into their tea but drank it straight. Alex greatly appreciated it after the day
she had, working the wards with Sister Isabella; who Alex respected as a woman
and a superb nurse. She had little idea that the good sister was singing her praises
to Colonel Howes and the senior doctors of the unit.
Owen stared towards the growing lines of dead soldiers – under rough sheets and blankets – being laid in the old School’s tennis court. Skyrise tapped his shoulder and said quietly; “This is only the first day of battle in just one surgical unit. In a few hours the tennis court will be full and they’ll have to lay them wherever they can find a space. The burials won’t start until tomorrow After the Graves Registration boys turn up.” He sipped his tea soaked with brandy and added; “Their families won’t be told for some days yet.”
Everyone relaxed a little and sipped their much-appreciated brandy, Jericho informed his team that they were standing down; the mission was over. Alex asked him; "What's happened, what have you found out?" Jericho smiled a little and explained; "It appears that our good doctor has pre-empted the device's invention by almost twenty years, but historically, doesn't receive any acknowledgement for it. The damn thing gets reinvented in the 1930's." Alex sipped her brandy and asked quietly; "Why doesn't he get any recognition for it?" Jericho placed the empty brandy bottle near Alex's thread bare armchair and sighed; "The good Doctor and some members of the medical staff here are killed, when the hospital ship; the SS Galeka strikes a mine in October of this year. He takes all knowledge of the device with him and the only other two people, who knew how it worked, were with him, on that ill-fated ship."
Jericho had made arrangements for his team to depart Casualty Clearing Station
Number 21 in the morning; informing Colonel Howes that they had gathered all
the information they needed for the respective Governments and news agencies
that had asked. Strangely enough, the Colonel told Jericho that they would be
missed; especially Lady Alex and Skyrise, who he praised for their assistance
and help. Jericho nodded his appreciation of the thanks and praise. He knew
now, why Angel Margret had messaged him [via his mirror] that she wished to see
the entire team when they returned from the mission - straight away - in fact.
"Shit!" was all he muttered as he walked back to their ramshackle quarters of tents and outbuildings. In the distance he could hear the guns; the battle of the Somme was continuing and would struggle on until the November of this year. Leaving over 400,000 British casualties and would achieve no real break- through of the German front. The bloody murderous war would continue for another two years yet and result in casualties counted in their millions.
The final outcome of the war - to end all wars - would be round two in twenty years’ time with the rise of Hitler and the Nazi party. World War II would eclipse the First World War in death and destruction and again; change the world entirely.
Alex sat in the nurses room and looked about, all the other beds were empty: the nurses would be working a double shift because of the sheer amount of casualties. She was a little angry, emotional and needed something, anything to ease the strange feeling that swamped her. She needed sex. She needed to feel alive, really alive and she needed that urgently. She looked up as Doctor Mark Davies stuck his head around the door and apologized, “Sorry Lady Cappanni, but are there any bloody nurses in here?” Alex shook her head and smiled. “All working
I’m
afraid.” The doctor stepped in and just nodded and said nothing, then spoke, “Bloody
awful day, and I suspect this is just the start. I believe that it has not gone
to plan. But do they ever? I mean the plans of mice and men.”
Alex rose from the bed and smiled, “No, I believe your right. Plans go astray and this one certainly did today.” The doctor nodded and sighed, “Life. You have to grab it when you can, or it slips away leaving you….” He stopped and smiled a little, “Well, I think you know what I mean.” Alex could see that Doctor Davies was a big man who took his ‘job’ seriously, she had seen him working with real compassion and dedication, like she had done so. He had wonderful big hands, and he certainly was handsome, in a rugged odd way. She knew all the nurses liked and respected him: they had told her so. Alex asked him why he wanted a nurse and he smiled again and pulled his hand from behind his back, “I was given this by a fly boy [pilot] for not taking his leg and I was going to share it with the girls.” He held up a bottle of decent brandy. Now Alex really smiled, “Well, you certainly can share some with me, if I count as a nurse here.” The big man nodded his head, “You certainly do, I saw you on the wards and you’re a cracking nurse, but I think you’re more than a nurse. You know way to much, despite trying to hide it. Is our Alice [Nurse Alice Hadden] right and your really a doctor undercover for some Godforsaken reason?”
Alex laughed picking up two clean cups from the bedside cabinet, “Pour me one and I just might tell you.” The doctor did and they sat together on the bed talking about General practice and Hospital admissions. The pair had a great deal in common and chatted, really enjoying each other’s company. Alex had already made her mind up, Doctor Davis certainly deserved a little relaxation and so did she. She leaned over him and whispered into his ear, and he sipped his brandy, listening very carefully. Then took the cup from her hand, placing it with his, down on the floor. He couldn’t undress because he was on duty still [he had already done seventeen hours] Hand in hand they headed for the sheet & blanket storeroom, and he locked the door behind them. They found a nice table and placed some blankets upon it. He pulled down his trousers and pants, gripping a very adequate erection and Alex knelt, taking hold of it, and sucking hard, using her lips and tongue to tease and caress.
He leaned back and groaned with pleasure as Alex spent about ten minutes working on his cock very skilfully. Then she pulled up her skirt and petticoats, allowing his big hands to remover her lacy French knickers. They swopped and Alex sat awkwardly on the table, legs open, while he enjoyed her fanny, and he really enjoyed it. He hit the ‘spot’ and it was Alex’s turn to moan. Alex leaned back and the wall and drew her knees up and the good doctor pushed between them and gently inserted his cock, while Alex now gripped his arse with both hands. They kissed as he thrusted hard, then he trusted harder and faster with Alex pulling him into her. The little table was rattling as the lovers fucked with real passion and almost desperation or great need. His tongue was working magic with Alex and his constant fucking was working even better on her.
Quietly groaning and moaning, the pair were certainly enjoying each other’s bodies. They changed to the floor so that Alex could ride him, and he managed to squeeze his big hands under her blouse and enjoy those magnificent big tits hidden there. She moved back and forth at speed, well, as fast as she could, holding up her skirt and petticoats. Then leaned over him, their mouths coming together again, and Alex had a small orgasm which pleased the both of them. They changed to the ‘doggy’ position, and he really pounded her to another orgasm, then cussing softly, he couldn’t hold it anymore and came inside Alex.
In quiet of the lovemaking aftermath, they could hear voices in the corridor outside, someone was asking if Doctor Davis was in the plaster room. “Shit! I’m wanted.” He whispered, pulling gently from her. They kissed again and both stood, straightening their clothes and Alex snatched up her knickers and looked around for something to wipe her dripping fanny on. She sighed, it was a bloody linin store after all. She had to use a pillowcase,
then
tossed it away. Checking each other’s appearance they kissed again, he then
unlocked the door and checked the corridor: it was empty. So Alex slipped past
and walked nonchalantly back to the nurse’s bedroom. Doctor Davies walked in
the opposite direction twirling the end of his stethoscope with some happiness.
Student Nurse Rachel Goldman stood in the shadows of the big linen cupboard and shook her head, what she had just witnessed had made very wet between the kegs and her small breasts heaved with her excited breaths. Sweet Lord, that was one incident that she shouldn’t write home to her widowed father about, he was a Harley Street Surgeon and pillar of the local church. Without a another thought she squatted down and pushed a hand up her uniform skirt and into her already wet panties, masturbating with some vigour and real necessity. It only took a couple of minutes for her little orgasm to appear, and she groaned softly, rubbing gently now. When she finished, she left the laundry room and headed for the toilets, walking a little awkwardly with cum sodden panties.
Meanwhile, Jericho dropped onto his bunk and loosened his collar, pulling his old hipflask from his tunic pocket and sipped the contents slowly. The oil lamp flickered and cast a weak, yellow glow about the small room. He tried to sleep a little - but it wouldn't come, and he sat up on the bunk and reached for his hip flask - again.
"Could I have a word please sir, I mean, since your still awake." Staff
Nurse Alice Hadden pushed the curtain aside - which served as some sort of door
- and stood in the doorway. Jericho had, of course, recongnised her in the
corridor when she stopped Alex. Alice was married to his best human agent for
this particular time period; The Metropolitan Police Detective Inspector Harry
Hadden. Jericho nodded and said; yes, softly and rose from the bed, turning up
the lamp.
"I don't know what's going on sir, but Lady Alex Cappanni IS Doctor Alex Featherstone. She doesn't appear to have aged a day, since I last saw her. But I'm not mistaken about it sir. So I'm assuming she's sort of undercover. My husband is a detective and he's told me about such adventures. Just let her know that I'm so glad she is alive. My God, she was so missed when she vanished back in 1901. Nobody knew what had happened to her - please ask Alex to contact me when her jobs are over - we were not just working colleagues, but good friends. I always suspected that good looking Italian had something to do with her sudden disappearance - her Italian is now excellent! - I'm so glad to see her again; alive and well. Please tell her that. Thank you, sir."
Jericho nodded but said nothing and Alice Hadden walked quietly away. He placed both hands on his head and slumped back on the creaking bed; "Shit!" was all he whispered; then he thought about the coming enquiry into the two detectives actions; they had clearly defied direct orders not to interfere and the Angel wanted to know why. He would, of course, support his team and would have to materialize some cracking excuses, to get them off the hook! Jericho tried to sleep - again with little success - but the brandy in his hipflask certainly helped and he tossed and turned until morning. Awaking with a feeling of profound sadness.
11. DEPARTURE.
The two cars were cranked over, engines now running noisily with the drivers
standing by, with open doors. Jericho and his team took their leave of the
staff and climbed aboard. Captain Harris and Colonel Howes waved them off. As
they pulled away, Alex could see Staff Nurse Alice Hadden give a little wave
and smile broadly. Alex waved back and brushed a small tear from her face -
noticed only by Jericho - who gripped her hand and said nothing.
Skyrise stared back at the disappearing hospital and grunted; "I'll be
here properly in just under a year and even that I now know what I'm in for,
I'll still be glad that I came." Jericho knew that Skyrise Young Mountain
would be killed by enemy bombing, on a dirt road just outside Amiens, within
months of arriving in France. He tapped the big man's shoulder and smiled.
"Who were the others from the unit that died on that ship?" Alex whispered to Jericho, and he handed her the hipflask. "Doctor Reginald Marks; Harris had trained him to use the device and he was making plans to produce the machine but died before anything was done." Alex sipped some brandy and asked; "The other ones?" Grateful and a little happy it wasn’t Doctor Davies.
Jericho sighed and took a swig from his flask; "The luck of war, she swapped assignments with the sister that should have sailed, but the women's child was very ill, and the mother obviously wanted to stay close. So Sister Isabella Edwards volunteered to take her place and drowned - trapped in the surgical unit with a couple of orderly's - when the ship went under. Sorry." He then told Alex and Skyrise about Angel Margret's message, and both didn't seem to care; "So we get demoted to Collectors for a century or so." Skyrise chuckled and Alex had to smile. Jericho just shook his head and but smiled a little, then thought about Alice Hadden and wondered who she would tell about her meeting with Alex, who she realised, had not aged a day. Jericho glanced at the beautiful young woman sitting next to him and knew that there was more to Alex than anyone could really know; perhaps save him.
The mission had achieved what it was dispatched for; they had discovered the truth behind the missing souls and Angel Margret had allowed the changes to stand. "Just a little piece of the 'Mandela' effect’, that should pass un-noticed by most living humans." Owen had muttered to Wilson, who agreed with his young colleague. The small convoy continued down the rough road and Alex smiled; thinking about Alice Hadden. Then she remembered about what she had read on her mirror about Alice.
Such
knowledge of future events wasn't always for the best.
The guns continued to sound in the distance and the cars pulled over for a few
minutes to allow a stream of ambulances and trucks to pass - carrying more
wounded to casualty Clearing Station Number 21 – and it’s totally dedicated
staff. "God help the poor buggers." The driver said and lit a
cigarette, whilst Alex muttered; "But he won't; free will and all
that."
Notes:
[1]
Alice Hadden and especially Harry Hadden are characters who also appear in the series ‘Miss Dorothy Hadden’ by the same author. Harry and Dorothy were human agents for Jericho in
the early 20th Century in London.
[2] The ‘Battle of the Somme’ was a bloodbath for the British Army and France then suffered its own version with the ‘Battle of Verdun’ in 1917. It is conservatively estimated that nearly twenty million souls were the lost in the ‘war to end all wars’. Yet, just twenty years later, Europe and then, the rest of the world was at war again. This time the casualties were estimated at nearly sixty million. It also ushered in the ‘Atomic’ age with atomic bombs being dropped on Japan. The First World War is credited with changing the world and humanity forever. Jericho always says, ‘civilisation ended in 1914’. Maybe so.
CHARACTERS
Skyrise Young Mountain or Doctor. S. Mountains had joined the American Army
Medical Corps and arrived in France in August 1917. He was killed by enemy
bombing, on a dirt road just outside Amiens, within months of arriving in
France. His soul was collected and he now - obviously - works as a Temporal
Detective Constable on 'Doc' Silas Underhill's team.
Sergeant John Liam Connery [Irish Brigade - Front Line trench] went 'over the
top' the following morning at 7.30am - he was dead by 7.33am. He was 27 years
old. His soul was collected and processed.
Private Frederick O'Halloran [Irish Brigade - Front Line trench] went 'over the
top' the following morning at 7.30am - he was dead by 7.36am. He was 22 years
old. His soul was collected and processed.
Lt. Paul Kenning [Dressing Station] survived the war, despite being wounded twice, including on the Somme in 1916, where his sergeant thought he had died of his wounds. He was discharged from the army in March 1919 and left Britain for Canada, where he worked in Newspapers. He was killed in a railway accident outside Montreal in 1931. His soul was collected and processed.
Private Patrick O'Rourke [wounded soldier - Dressing Station] survived his wounds
despite losing a leg and part of his arm. He married his childhood sweetheart and
lived until 1955. They didn't have any children and his widow - Katherine
- died in 1961. His soul was collected and processed.
Private David Richards [the Driver] had signed on to fight, despite being 61
years old! He remained an Officer's Chauffer throughout the war. He died in 1919
from the 'Spanish Influenza' and his soul was collected and processed.
Doctor Alexander Harris [Casualty Clearing Station 21] was never credited
with his discovery that could have saved many lives over the subsequent
years. He was drowned on SS Galeka, when that Hospital ship sank in
October 1916. His soul was collected and processed. He now works as a
Collector.
Private John Gates [Stretcher-bearer - Dressing Station]] was actually
under-age for the army - he was fifteen - but a big lad for his age. The
Military authorities allowed him to stay serving, as a Stretcher-Bearer. He was
killed at Passchendaele in November 1917; he was sixteen. His soul was collected
and processed.
Private William Soames [Medical Orderly - Dressing Station] was killed the following
day by a British shell that dropped short; several wounded men, he was
attending, were also killed at the time. His soul was collected and processed.
Colonel Wilberforce Howes [Casualty Clearing Station 21] survived the war and
returned to Manchester City Infirmary in 1919 as Chief Surgeon. He remained at
the hospital until he retired in 1929. He was killed in 1941 during the
'black-out' - a car ran into him as he walked to the train station - after
visiting his sister's home. His soul was collected and processed.
Nurse Rachel Goldman [Casualty Clearing Station 21] survived the war and
returned home to Bradford, where she married a local coal merchant and had four
children. Unfortunately, the fourth child came with complications and Rachel died.
She was 31 years old. Her soul was collected and processed.
Staff Nurse Alice Hadden [Casualty Clearing Station 21] was married to
Jericho's Human Agent for the early 20th Century; Police Inspector Harry
Hadden. She alleges that Lady Alexandra Cappanni is really Doctor Alexandra
Featherstone - a doctor at Whitechapel hospital in 1901 - who vanished without
trace that year. Jericho never reported these matters up his chain of command. Alice
died in 1922 from stomach cancer. Her soul was collected and processed.
Sister Isabella Edwards [Casualty Clearing Station 21] was on the ill-fated SS Galeka, after she volunteered to take a colleagues place and drowned - trapped in the surgical unit with a couple of orderlies - when the ship went under. Her soul was collected and processed.
Doctor Reginald Marks [Casualty Clearing Station 21] was killed when the SS Galeka sank in October 1916; he had been trained by Dr. Harris to use the machine. The secret died with those two men: on that ship. His soul was collected and processed.
Nurse Patricia Kelly [Casualty Clearing Station 21] survived the war and left Britain for a new life in America. She married well and died a wealthy widow in 1938 with her three children and eleven grandchildren at her side. Her soul was collected and processed.
Flight Officer Roberto Russo [Italian Pilot - Casualty Clearing Station 21] was nineteen years old when he died of his wounds at casualty Clearing Station 21. There was a problem with this young man in that, the Italian Military had no knowledge of him! His and Captain Ricci's mission on the Western Front was unknown to the Italian Authorities. There was no soul to collect and Temporal Inspector Stella Longstreet has been assigned the case; there is no resolution yet.
Captain Luca Ricci [Italian Pilot - Casualty Clearing Station 21] died of his wounds and his soul was collected and processed. But it appears that the Italian Authorities [at the time] had no idea of the captain’s mission on the Western front! He was supposed to be on compassionate leave in his hometown of Rome. It remains a mystery to this day.
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