The Drafted Soldier

As Charles made his way home from checking the track betting station his family had set up as a means of cash, he thought to himself “If I stay in this long enough, I can take over as the head of the family and really start to grow the family business”. Charles’s family was from gypsy lineage in Northern Britain, which was not the kindest to those of his culture. His mother and father had died when he was quite young leaving himself and his two brothers in the care of their aunt June. Aunt June took care of them as if they were her own because her own son and daughter had been taken from her when they were quite young. She had been accused of being incapable of taking care of her children because she was a gypsy.

As Charles was approaching his house he saw the fliers for the Great War. He glanced at it and quickly looked away. What he needed to do was focus on growing their illegal betting ring so that his family could make more money, then and only then would they ever be happy. Charles noticed that there had been mail left at their front doorstep. Picking it up he went inside and dropped it on the table, not thinking anything of it. His aunt asked him how the day had gone at the betting ring. He told her that the horse they had doped up won the race and that it was a splendid payday for all of them. As he went over to grab a drink of some Irish Whisky and lit a cigarette Aunt June went over to the table and started to look through the mail.

As she was looking through the mail Aunt June said “Well as long as this goes on we are bound to make a fortune off of-”. Suddenly she stopped. Charles looked behind him. She was holding an envelope out to him with a shaking hand. He took the envelope and saw that it was addressed to Charles Cooper from the British Government. Aunt June knew what this meant as well as he did. There was no need to read it. Without saying a word Charles called for his younger brother Finn and sent him to go find Gail, Charles’s older brother. After that Charles didn’t say a word.

Once Gail came they all sat down at the family table. Charles started off the conversation by saying “Our great country of England has ordered that I come and fight for them on the battlefield”. There was a strong sense of sarcasm in his voice. “They have assigned me,” he said “I am to be a tunneller”. Tunnellers were soldiers whose job it was to dig underground in order to stealthily place mines near their enemies fortifications. Even though the room was already silent other than Charles’s voice, there seemed to be an even more stifling quiet than before. Everyone knew that to be a tunneler was to already have your name carved on a tombstone. Charles’s other brothers would not even pick up their eyes to look at him, the only one who held eye contact with him was Aunt June. Whether she was trying to be strong for him or simply wanted to make sure she could remember his face when he was gone, it did not matter. Although, it did comfort him to be able to have those motherly eyes gazing upon him.

The youngest brother, Finn, suddenly stood up and hurriedly rushed upstairs. Gail tried to stop him.

“No!” Charles said “Leave him be. If he can’t take it then he shouldn’t be at this table.”

Once again there was dead silence. Charles had watched his brother go upstairs but when he looked back down at the two people remaining he saw that his brother’s eyes were bloodshot trying as hard as they could to hold back tears. He looked to his left and saw that Aunt June had one singular tear going down the right side of her face. He watched the tear slowly go down leaving a trail behind it and dropping on the floor. Even though he knew it was impossible he could have sworn he heard that small drop of water hit the floor as if someone had dropped a heavy box.

“What more is there to say?” Charles thought to himself. He stood up and slowly walked to the kitchen window. Every step echoed through the house as if he was the only one there. As he gazed out the window he realized that to a certain degree they were feeling more grief from this than he did. He was not losing someone he loved, but they were. He would have to come back to them so that they would not ever have to feel that pain and sadness. Having no idea of what to say to help them he started to talk, simply hoping that something would come out that would put their worries to rest.

“I am going to go and fight” he started still with no layout for his words.”I am going to go and fight. We have spent too much time learning how to avoid the law in this country and I do not wish to begin anew. I will be in grave danger and there is a large chance that I will die in the process. Just know that no matter what I will find my way back to you. This family will not lose more than what it already has. So far we have been through challenging and extremely difficult times, and so far we have prevailed. The four of us have fought and clawed our way to becoming who we are and get where we are today. This is simply another trial. What I need you to promise me today is that no matter what happens you will never stop fighting. You must keep growing this family's power and influence. Fight your own battles as I will go fight mine. As long as you can promise me that I will fight my own battles and come back safely to you, but you must promise me that you will never stop no-”.

Without even uttering a sound or a single word his aunt had come and slowly slipped her hand into his. Suddenly he felt the tears he had held back so well started to trickle down his cheek and under his chin. He could hear his brother, who was choking back tears, stand up and walk towards him. There they all stood. In front of that window staring into the dust-covered streets of Birmingham. Once again there was silence but this was a different kind of silence. This time he felt at peace, and he thought he could say that they also felt at peace with him.