Saturday, 3 November 2012
03:04:43 PM (GMT)
Realistically, Warrant Officer Phillips had always known it was coming, but as he
lay in the searing heat, staring at the darkening sky, he couldn't have felt more
disbelieving. This was happening to him. He was going to die.
"Come on, lads, up and at 'em!" He called, jauntily kicking his troops into shape.
At the rank of Warrant Officer, he really shouldn't have been in the field. He
should have been nestled away in some cramped office somewhere, typing out condolence
letters, or assessing the budget for the ration packs, but no matter how much he was
persuaded, his argument remained the same and strong as ever. He joined the Marines
to fight, and his experience shouldn't be wasted in an office. In the field, he'd be
able to help, and be useful. The Corps was full of raggedy old men who were better
suited to an office job, but even in his forties, Flynt was still in near perfect
shape, and he'd simply get bored indoors.
His command was met with a groan of distaste, but he laughed, "Don't be such girls,
we've only got another three days out here, then back home! Safe and dry!"
"I don't think we could get much drier, sir. It hasn't rained in weeks..."
"It's a figure of speech, Robbie."
Within a few minutes, the entire camp was awake and either prepping weapons or eating
breakfast. It wasn't much of one, admittedly, but they'd need it. Today was the
last of their four attacks, and as soon as it was complete, another troop would
relieve them, giving Troop 097 leave to rejoin their families for another few months.
Having already eaten and packed, Flynt sat on his bergan, fishing out the most
recent of Robyn's letters and reading the already memorised words. He smiled
faintly, turning the letter over to read the girls' input. They were grown up now,
and it both made him delighted and broke his heart to hear than even little Lynnie
had found someone. He sounded like a decent enough bloke, although that did nothing
to stop the fact that if he hurt his angel, he'd hunt him down and spare no mercy.
The same went for this Keith fellow. Odd boy, he'd admit, but he'd had the decency
to ask both his and Robyn's permission to ask for Emmie's hand. Little old
fashioned, prehaps, but it was appreciated. Quite frankly, as long as both boys made
his little girls (for they were both little, and always would be to him) happy, then
they would do just fine.
He smiled to himself, taking out the stub of pencil and writing pad from his breast
pocket. He'd written the day before, but something told him that he'd missed
everything important from his letter. He'd only talked about the kit musters, and
the next attack. Nothing really important
He would write three. One to each.
I know you just recieved my other letter, but today's the day, and I
needed to write something else. Just to put my mind at ease, you know?
You'll probably give me stick when I get home, but I don't care.
I love you, Robyn. I always will, and please, please never forget that. Look
after the girls, okay? And be sure to threaten those boys every time you see them.
Call me soppy and depressing, but.. forgive me for this, I have the most horrible
feeling about today. Don't tell the girls, in case I'm wrong (and I truely hope I
am), but I have a feeling I won't make it home this time. If you were with me, you'd
tell me not to be so stupid, and you'd be right, but just... I dunno, really.
Look after yourself, alright?
Go see the others. Take some time off from the bakery, and just chill. Take care of
yourself, because even if I don't come back (touch wood), you can live for both of
I'll love you forever, and I'll always be with you, no matter what.
I love you, Robyn. Don't give up.
Yours for eternity,
The soldier took a deep breath, steadying his shaking hand as he folded the letter
and slid it into an envelope adressed to all three Fourniers.
To my Little Angel, Emilie.
Just for the record, I do like Keith, and I hope the two of you will be very happy.
Although if he does give you any hassle, let me know. I promise I won't quite kill
Be careful, Emmie. I know you're intelligent, but I still worry about you, and so
does Robyn. Look after him, and Lyn too. And yourself. Take care, and love Keith.
I know it's clicheed, but here's something we're actually taught in basics:
"Listen like you'll never hear another song in your life,
Talk like you'll run out of words (no danger there!),
Live like you've got no more days left,
And love like you've never been hurt."
I wish you luck in whatever you do, and I love you, Emilie. You know that you're as
good as my daughter, if not better, and I'll love you every day.
I'll see you soon, my Angel,
Again, the pencil hovered over the paper before starting to write. He rubbed at his
eyes, half-convinced that this would be his last contact with them all.
Lynnie, my beautiful little Angel,
I believe in you, and never let anyone, anyone at all, tell you that you're anything
less than the best. You'll always be my Angel, and nothing will take me away from
Good luck with Gareth. So many people have called me stupid for saying this, and I
probably got it from the Agony Aunt section on a magazine or something... But
nothing, not even death, can break love, so don't give up. Amazing things happen to
people who believe in miracles, Lynnie.
I love you, my little Angel, and I'll always be with you, okay? Always.
The fading sun was bringing a chill, and Flynt shivered slightly where he lay. He
raised his hand slightly, the blood sticky and seeming to get everywhere. He
couldn't feel his legs, and with the now bloody hand, he fumbled for his letters,
praying that they weren't damaged.
His breath was rasping, and a shadowy figure with blonde hair and a mouth that looked
made for smiling crouched over him, "Flynt... Mr Phillips! Oh bugger bugger
"Bugger's... a bit... of an understatement... kid..." Flynt said, attempting a laugh
and instead coughing a few scarlet drops.
"HELP!" Keith shouted as Flynt pressed the letters into the boy's hand.
"Give them... personally... Don't lose them..."
"Flynt, no. No no no... Come one, stay with me!"
The soldier's eyes steadily drifted shut, his hand dropping to his side as the spark
left his dark blue eyes, still as bright as they were twenty seven years ago.
The two notes of the bugle, a fifth apart, echoed throughout the graveyard as the
coffin was lowered into the earth. Covered in a union flag, the first handful of
dirt was sprinkled over it.
He would have been proud.
The three Fourniers were stood in a small huddle, even Robyn, who always tried to
look so brave around the girls, even he was broken, and although none of them ever
mentioned it, Robyn, Lynette and Emilie all felt a surge of loving warmth course
through them as the wind embraced them, a single kiss on the girl's foreheads, a
lingering I love you in Robyn's ear.
One day, those letters would be delivered. But today, the Doctor thought as he
looked over the reminder of time, today wasn't the time for it.