Crips and Pete

Two British soldiers walk through France on their way to the Dunkirk Evacuation. Inspiration from the novels "Atonement" and "Of Mice & Men" is probably evident. (Some gore) (1,375 words)

Somewhere in France

 

1940

 

 

   “Bloody better be close, my in an’ out’s still bleedin’.” Crispin tenderly felt the wad of bandages covering half his face and his entire nose, wincing at the touch. “Somethin’s not right with me ‘ead, it feels all cold an’ wet inside.”

   “You just need some whiskey, ‘at’s why your head’s gone cold. I’m tellin’ ya the beach ain’t no more’n maybe a dozen kilometers or so,” Pete quipped with a re-shoulder of his rifle. “Not sure if we’ll be makin’ it tonight though Crips, sun’s almost gone an’ flown away on us.”

   Several meters behind Pete, Crispin surveyed his surrounds as they trudged through them, a city boy born and bred. The sun was only an hour above the French horizon, stretching shadows to dwarf their physical counterparts. The fields were brightly lit shades of gold, bronze, and lush green, the low sun amplifying the colors of late May sharply. Day after day Pete and Crips had walked through countless fields, each overflowing with every vegetable or grain imaginable. “Oy Pete, you grew up in the countryside, right?”

   Pete sighed and shook his head. “You keep askin’ me that every time we pass through a bloody new pasture, an’ yes, sort of. Brought up in a small village on the edge of the farmin’ country, so I lived my fill of country life.”

   “It’s not gotten old even yet,” Crips mused, unable to grin properly with the bandages stretching across his jaw. “No flats, no trucks, no horns, no people no yammerin’ no bloody ruckus at all! It’s all so quiet an’ peaceful.”

   “Right, an’ you keep bringin’ it up an’ I’ll loosen that snout of yours up, see how much blood we can get out of it!” Pete glared at the rolling plains ahead of him. It was quiet for a long while.

 

 

   “Not even a dozen kilometers, I knew we were close Cripsy!” Pete dodged rubble and abandoned equipment on the road as he shot off towards the sight of Dunkirk.

   “Well give a bloke a chance Pete, please! If I start mad-dashin’ along like a bloody schoolboy then I’ll start bleedin’ again f’sure! I just got it to stop an’ me ‘ead feels the worst it’s been all soddin’ year.”

   Pete caught himself and turned back to rejoin Crispin, pulling one of his mate’s arms over his shoulders. “Alright, come on old pal, we’re almost there. Lean on me an’ we’ll keep ‘at beautiful nose of yours on your face intact! Although you’re goin’ to need some swell food to regain the heaps of blood you’ve lost.”

   The two ragged men trudged their way into the city of Dunkirk, located on the beach of the reported British evacuation. They had traversed a very long distance, worthy of a good tale back home. Knees and ankles cried out for relief, for rest, but the men had still to cross the city to the beach. Neither men cared about the commotion taking place within the city, they only wanted to reach the beach. Not gawking or delaying, ignoring the protests of the French and the antics of their fellow Brits, Pete and Crispin eventually found themselves at the far end of the city, on a cracking wooden sidewalk that overlooked the beach " and men. Hundreds of thousands of men. All waiting on a beach for an evacuation that hadn’t arrived yet.

   “Aye, here Pete, let’s stay in here,” Crips motioned towards a deserted café that had been broken into and looted. Tablecloths were strewn about and broken dishes acted as the new floor, but the men’s boots crunched overtop them easily. “Get yourself somewhere to sleep an’ we can avoid the commotion until morning,” Crips muttered, grabbing a tablecloth and spreading it out to lie on, finding a mostly-clean patch on the floor.

   “Not the beach? What’f the ships come in the night an’ they leave us?” Pete pondered, not arguing with lying down, however.

   “Pete, I imagine half our boys would rather sleep in the city than on an overcrowded beach filled with the wounded an’ diseased. I’m not going out there until I can see our flag in those waters. Now shut the talk an’ sleep, my ‘ead’s bound to explode if I don’t rest it.”

   Without another word, Crispin turned over on the floor, laying his head in his arms and exhaling heavily, adjusting his bandages one final time.

 

 

   Crips stood up. He couldn’t remember exactly when he woke, but he shook his head to clear his sleepy mind. He face felt no pain. This cheered him - sleeping soundly had surely helped a great deal. Stepping out of the café’s broken window, Crips sat down on the sidewalk outside, smiling as he felt the cool morning breeze. Gazing down towards the beach he spotted no ships, but regardless he had a good feeling about him. His nose appeared to be healing. His health was overall improving. Circumstances had turned in ol’ Cripsy’s favor it seemed. He took a deep breath of morning air and sighed contentedly. Pete ran out of the café screaming.

   Crips stood slowly on confusion, but Pete paid him no mind, tearing down to the beach wailing manically for a medic, for some help, for anyone. Stumbling through the sand at a full sprint, Pete crashed into the first medic he spotted, dragging him in the direction of the café without any question of the medic’s consent. Crips stood on the sidewalk watching Pete on the beach, unable to call out to him, utterly lost in the events that took place in front of him. The medic shook Pete off of him and inquired something of him sternly, Crips couldn’t hear what from the sidewalk. Pete grasped at the medic’s clothes, sobbing in desperation, and finally brought the medic with him. Crips called Pete’s name when the pair reached the café, but was again ignored, and the medic was rushed inside.

   The medic immediately saw Crips " lying where he had spent the night, in the same position as Pete last saw him. But now Crips’s face was soaked bright red from the blood that had drained from his head through his ears, nose, and eyes. Any facial skin visible was as white as the purest snow, all blood drained and coating the floor, pooling amongst the broken French dishes. The medic knelt.

   Crips stood just inside the café, frozen in place, no thoughts running through his mind, only realization. He watched as Pete dropped sobbing next to his own body and took his hand, begging for Crips to breath, to move. The tears fell like rain " heavy rain, not a trickling summer drizzle, but a violent downpour that comes in the springtime. The medic needed very little time to understand, Crips may as well have perished days ago when the initial injury had been sustained " it was in the brain, he explained to Pete, who curled over Crips’s body, no longer begging, but realizing the finality. The wailing ceased as Pete shook wordlessly, the guardian protecting Crips’s body. Spring rain still fell.

   The medic returned to the beach, with no time left to spare, and many more dying or dead men to see to. Crips watched Pete for many long minutes, the shaking in tears continuing without pause. Speech broken from lack of breath, Pete spoke quiet words to Crips, words of friendship and camaraderie. Crips had to step out, he could no longer bear to see Pete in such pain. Standing on the sidewalk he surveyed the busy city, and then down among the bloodstained beach. He wasn’t sure of where to go or what to do, so he waited outside the café, pondering his next course of action. Eventually Pete stepped out, face beet red and tear-soaked.

   “Maybe one day mate, like the clergymen always say,” Pete whispered, closing his eyes and failing to hold in another wave of tears. “Maybe I’ll see you again one day.” Pete slowly walked away from the café, down the beach, and into the throngs of fellow soldiers. The British flag ran high on the horizon.

   “One day mate,” Crips whispered, giving his physical body inside the café one last glance.

   “Go home, Pete.”

Author's Note

Proud of this piece, wrote it in several hours and edited it over the next two days. All feedback is appreciated; let me know what you think of it!

Reviews

[Stan Lee]

This is great! I love the way you write, you have great style and the length was perfect I thought. I enjoyed the real to life dialogue and found the whole story, although a little bitter, a thoroughly enjoyable read. Thanks a lot for sharing this with us! :)