Historical Fiction

 A/N

 This is the second version of Johnny’s story back to home. This time it is an historical fiction version.

 This piece is set during the Great War. in 1914, the French soldiers left for the battlefield thinking the war wouldn’t last long. The young soldiers were mostly conscripts. 800 000 of them were already serving their time in the National Service. They went to war as some go on a picnic, or so it is what is said by our grandparents.

 In any cases, the Great War was a conflict of a new genre, where armies killed and imprisoned civilians. It was the case in a number of cities in Belgium and Northern France. Organized collateral damage, introduction of chemicals weapons in the trenches and a race to armament where notable points in this war.

 The mutilation is also a great aspect of the conflict. In France, 6.5 millions are considered suffering from the sequels of injuries, around 300 000 being handicapped 100%. These men were called the “Gueules Cassées” (the Broken Faces). The reconstructive surgery was in its embryo stage at this time.

 This piece is dedicated to Shawn (@bloodsword). He doesn’t write Historical Fiction, as he is more a Fantasy and Sci-Fi author. Anyway, his characters are all the same profound and complex. They have their own scars and doubts. I loved reading his Risen series, the theme of war and survival is masterly down.

 Few months ago the armistice was signed. In a forest, in a carriage, in a bucolic setting the peace was agreed… But, for Johnny, it didn’t end his torment. In his trench, on the eleventh hour, the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the artillery was still emptying its ammunition on the opposite line. The enemy was doing the same. Shells were flying as in a frenzy of fire and powder. How many died in the trenches after the peace treaty was signed?

 Johnny was lucky he didn’t cross to the other world when he was hit by shrapnel. He was lucky, but not so much. He kept his life, but lost his face. Almost all the right half was gone, melted skin, deep gashes in the cheeks, the ear was missing. He was a bloody mess, but still alive.

 He spent the next couple of months in a hospital, where the Red Cross took charge of him. There, he received medical care, and some psychological support also. There where so many of them, so many who would never look the way they used to, so many suffering from depression and fear, so many who didn’t even want to go back home…

 Johnny was not the same anymore. When he left for the battlefield, he was sure of him, sure of his right to defend his country, his home. But after having seen so many destruction, so many death, he was not so sure any more about his reasons to fight. Four years, four years he spent with his fusil, with his comrades. Now he would come back home. What would await him in his village? Would they welcome him with flowers? Would they ring the bells of the old monastery?

 He wanted so desperately to be home, surrounded by his family. His mother’s cooking, his father’s flowery garden, his sister’s joyful chatter… He did miss all of this when he was in the trenches. And then, there was Irene. Her sweetheart, as the elders said. Had she waited for him, or did she found another man while he was absent? There wouldn’t be much to wait, now, to know the answers to his questions.

 When the train entered the station, Johnny’s apprehension grew even more. His parents were waiting for him on the quay. He could see his mother crying, hiding behind her handkerchief. She was a brave and loving woman, but she could get really emotional at times. He was glad they were here, however, he was happy to see them. But the doubt was there anyway, lying behind his smile. Would they accept him?

 Johnny was thankful to his father. When he saw him, he didn’t hesitate to hug him, to engulf him in a tight and reassuring embrace. He was lucky he was still alive. How many family did lose the son and the father, as the older men were mobilised by the end of the conflict? His father being alive was not the act of any luck goddess, no, his being alive was due to an injury he received during the previous war against the boches, leaving him with one leg only. With his infirmity, he couldn’t be drafted.

 While he was in his father’s embrace, Johnny looked at his mother. She was crying, hiding her tears in her hands. The doubts came back with force. Would she welcome him? After leaving his old man’s arms, he took a step toward his mother. He was just fast enough to catch her before she fell on the floor. She had fainted. When she regained conscious, she was all over him, her dear and loved son. His fears of reject were quieten down.

 Johnny’s parents were happily chatting on the way back home. The old Bessie was pulling the cart, the same way he remembered on the day of his leave to the frontlines, four years ago. They told him how much his sister had grown up, how much she helped them during the long days of incertitude. They recounted how Irene refused all men who proposed her, as she was waiting his return. Tonight, he would be welcomed by the village, they said to him.

 Johnny settled back in his old room. His sister had indeed grown up during the time he was fighting the invasion. She also welcomed him as if the change in his features, as if is broken face didn’t matter. He was getting ready to meet back with his neighbours. He would be remembered as the Gueule Cassée, not as a name engraved in the memorial. His father told him the monument was erected in front of the cemetery the month before. Would he be able to support the look of pity in his old friends’ eyes?

 As he was getting out of his parents’ house, Johnny was prepared to see pity, horror and fear in the villagers’ gazes. He took some precautious steps towards the village grand-place, where tables were dressed and colourful bulbs gave a soft and magical light on their surroundings. He couldn’t fight the doubts, but he advanced all the same. The chatter around him lessen a bit as the people looked at him with curiosity. He then saw her, Irene. She was turning her back to him, talking to his sister. When she realized he was standing behind her, she slowly turned to face him. He would know then, he would know if the doubts were verified, he would know if he could hope for a future, for warmth and peace.

 Irene was facing him. She took in the sight of him, slowly. She looked at him. In that instant, Johnny knew. He knew what his future would be.