Page 70 of The Unknown Birds

“Christmas in Italy,” TomTom said. “That’ll make a nice warm change.”

The others agreed most wholeheartedly, but not being familiar with the geography of the region, they hadn’t accounted for their proximity to the Alps.

“Just as cold as France,” Cooper complained.

“Cold enough to freeze your bollocks off, anyway,” Blake agreed.

Even in billets, when they weren’t marching or practicing calisthenics for warmth, most of their time was spent huddled together around a fire, dreaming of those long hot days they’d once so cursed.

“Private Ashley,” Merle called, striding over, mail in hand, one afternoon.

“Merle?” she replied.

“You’ve a package,” he said, tossing the wrapped parcel her way.

“Don’t tease. Who’ve you nicked it off?” Rook demanded.

Ash and TomTom laughed, but Private Merle went ashen. “N-no one, Lance Corporal. It says Private Ashley right there on the address.”

“Easy, Private,” Rook soothed, lifting his mug to show he was only joking. “Have a cup of tea.”

He was right though. Ashley could count on one hand the number of parcels she’d received throughout the war, with money tight and postage dear. But, sure enough, the cancellation stamp showed London.

“Secret admirer?” Rook teased.

“My mother, I expect.”

“How’s she settling in with the bakers?” Tom asked.

A month after the Gotha bombers had strafed London, Ash finally received a brief note from her mum. Their building was condemned, but some of their belongings had been recovered, and more importantly, she and the children had been out for a walk and ducked into the Underground just in time. With nowhere to go, the Wintters had brought her to live in the spare room above their bakery for the duration.

“She likes it well enough,” Ash told them, turning towards the relative privacy of their hut. “She works the counter so they can stay out of sight, and that seems to have put an end to bricks coming through the window for now.”

“Rook, Merle. Good. You’re both here,” Captain Davies called, approaching their little group. “Rook, I know you prefer to work alone, but we lost quite a few snipers these past few months. Merle, it turns out, has rather a keen aim. He’s being reassigned to sniper duty, and I’d very much like you to show him the ropes.”

“Of course, Cap,” Rook said, too resigned to argue.

“Perhaps once he’s trained up, you can resume your lone wolf status.”

Rook shrugged. “Been a long old war, hasn’t it? About time I partnered up.”

Captain Davies regarded him with a slow nod. “Quite,” he agreed, then lifting a hand, invited them to continue on their way. Adding, “Happy Christmas to you all,” he headed off again, leaving Ash a little jealous that her mentor had a new trainee.

“Happy Christmas? Just another day, isn’t it?” TomTom grumbled.

“Doesn’t have to be,” Rook told him. “You fighting fit yet, Ash? We’ll expect all you runners on our side if there’s a football match against the Germans this year.”

“What?” Merle asked with a laugh.

“Football?” Ash repeated as they entered the hut to find Stew and Cooper already relaxing in woolen sweaters.

“Surely you heard about the Christmas Truce of ’14?” Rook said.

Tom and Ashley shook their heads.

“Wasn’t a truce,” Blake argued.

“Were you there?” Rook demanded.