Page 76 of The Unknown Birds

“Slap on the wrist,” he said with a shrug. “It’s Christmas.” But he didn’t seem convinced.

“Rook!” Lieutenant Hawkins shouted the moment the captain was out of earshot. “Stop swinging the lead and get to your post. Go on, look alive. If you haven’t found a target to snipe at by nightfall, I’ll clap you in irons myself before you can ask for a cig.”

“Isn’t it Merle’s watch?” Ash asked.

Rook didn’t answer, holding the lieutenant with a blistering gaze as he removed a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and took a long, slow drag, the smoke curling out of his nose and lips like an irascible dragon. “Of course, sir,” he said. Then, under the officer’s watchful eye, he stood and stretched languidly. “Lads,” he added with a nod, before brushing past Hawkins and sauntering back to join Merle at his post.

“I miss Napier,” Tom grumbled so only Ash could hear.

She raised her tin cup in salute, and they shared a drink to the memory of the snarky lieutenant, wherever he may be.

With the captain away, Hawkins assumed the role he’d always wanted, making the Surreys stand to arms on the fire step for the better part of the day.

“Good thing we’re learning such valuable skills,” Ash muttered. “In case there’s a wall needs holding up after the war.”

Rook smirked, and TomTom allowed a tiny chuckle on her other side.

“Something to say, Private?” Lieutenant Hawkins asked.

“I said it’s very peaceful standing here with no one to shoot at, sir.”

“When it’s the most quiet is when you have to worry,” the lieutenant replied. “What are you laughing at, Private Tomasson? You’re out of uniform,” he added, pointing to a missing button on Tom’s coat with his bayonet.

“I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t find the button to mend it.”

“Perhaps you should look for it in No Man’s Land while you fix the wire tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Next time, take the button off a shirt.”

“Then that one will be missing a button instead, sir.”

“And you can move the button back and forth from coat to shirt until you manage to take better care of your kit.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom agreed, not bothering to point out the buttons wouldn’t match let alone fit.

Despite Sergeant Major Chapman’s protests, Hawkins kept them assembled until nightfall when the captain finally arrived back from HQ.

“All right, Cap?” Ashley asked, though he looked none too worse for wear.

“Just fine, Private. Would you hunt up Lieutenant Hawkins and send him along for a report? The rest of you, stand down.”

“Of course, sir. Did our Christmas spirit get you in very grave trouble?”

“Well, we won’t be ringing in the New Year in cushy billets, and I doubt I’ll receive a crown and third stripe any time soon. Pretty fair trade, I’d say.” He offered her a genuine smile, far superior to his attempt that morning. “I’ve quite enough responsibility looking after you lot as it is.”

He patted her shoulder and sent her off in search of Hawkins, but the lieutenant’s dugout was empty and so was the latrine. Then his shrewish scream echoed down the trench as he harangued some other poor soul, and on instinct, Ashley headed straight for Rook.

“I asked you a question, soldier. How many shots have you fired today?”

Rook stood with his rifle at the ready, giving no indication he heard Lieutenant Hawkins, except for the muscle in his jaw which popped angrily. Ash couldn’t help admiring his nerve when he calmly replied, “Fritz has laid low today, sir. Probably still sleeping nice and cozy in his bunker.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Rook. I’ll string you up by your ankles. See if I don’t. What do you want, Private?” Hawkins demanded, turning on Ashley like the parent of a tiresome brat.

“Beg pardon, but the captain’s waiting for your report.”

Lieutenant Hawkins huffed but turned about-face to leave. When Ash pivoted at his elbow, he shook her off. “I think I know my own way, thank you.”