Angel of the Somme: The Great War, Book 1 by Terri Meeker Read Free Book Online

already been signed. Sam didn’t hold to hospital gossip any more than he’d believed in trench gossip, but since his ability to speak still seemed to be sleeping, he had little choice but to listen.
    The lieutenant was pleasant enough company, but Sam’s mind was on more serious matters. His men. The battle. Not knowing the truth felt like a cancer eating away at his peace of mind, not that his addled head had any room for company. His blasted headache was still an entrenched guest as well, and this time, it seemed to have brought luggage and barricaded itself in the spare room.
    When a bang sounded from the end of the ward, his headache shouted in response. Looking up, he saw the VAD brigade entering, pushing their meal carts. Miss Curtis brought up the rear. In one of Gordy’s many one-sided conversations, he’d told Sam that her name was Lily. The name suited her quiet grace and cheerful determination.
    Even if Miss Curtis read his mail to him after supper, Sam knew it would likely be a repeat of earlier. She’d carefully avoid those mails that might upset him. Probably doctor’s orders and all that rot.
    Sam suddenly got an idea.
    Just because she didn’t want to read upsetting mails to him didn’t mean he couldn’t read them himself.
    He scooted over to the edge of the bed, as far to the right as he could manage. Stretching his arm to full length, he reached toward the small wicker basket perched on his bedside table. His grasping fingertips trembled, but only fumbled with air. He was just shy of his goal. Just one more inch would be all he needed. His muscles protested as he stretched his arm just a little farther.
    He almost gave a shout of victory when his shaking fingers gripped the edge of the basket. For one frightening moment, his grasp slipped, but he squeezed his fingers tighter and flung the basket onto his chest, scattering mail across his covers.
    Sam glanced up to check on Gordy, but the lieutenant’s concentration was occupied with VADs for the moment. A nice bit of luck.
    Sam grabbed a handful of letters and quickly scanned the return addresses. The first three were from Evie, the next from his mother. He tucked those back into the basket. A small envelope near his elbow, however, was unopened. He grabbed it and turned it over. The return address read Corporal Peter Moncur .
    Yes. It was just what he’d been looking for. He tore the envelope open with quivering fingers.
    Captain Dwight:
    A fresh stiletto of pain sliced through his temple.
    From what we been told, you’re still alive, sir. Though you’re injured and sleeping deeply. I write in hopes that this letter finds you awake and feeling better. You was always a capital fellow and we thought nothing but the best of you, sir.
    As Sam focused on the words, they blurred on the page. As the letters swam from him, the tide of agony inside his mind rose.
    I knew you’d be wanting to know how we’re doing. Truth be told, and I know that’s how you’d have it, not particularly well. The shell that done you in took out three other fellows: Ellis, Hamilton and Goodrich. Four others was wounded. Don’t rightly know how they set things up at that hospital, but maybe you run into them there.
    Sam’s headache felt like a living thing, chewing the side of his head with a terrible hunger.
    Lieutenant March was promoted to captain once you left us. He’s not a bad sort at all. Our losses aren’t so bad as some. As for officers, Brown and Perry were lost. Madison and Lovell are missing. Sorry, Captain, but that’s the simple truth of it. For infantry we’ve lost forty-seven so far, with eighteen missing, presumed dead.
    The thing inside his mind kicked with a real fury now. His vision was ringed by a rosy-red edge.
    We wish you nothing but the best, sir. Your men remember you fondly and you must know that when we…
    The pain-beast that had been scampering about behind his eyes roared with a vengeance. A tidal wave of red quickly flooded his