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His mind whirred, a million thoughts passing through his head. What was he doing here? What had he done agreeing to this? He needed to get home. He needed to be by his wife's side. His son was sick, suspected meningitis. He needs to be there, not here in this blasted desert. Not stuck feeling more helpless as sweat drips from every part of his body and his skin blisters in the heat. The enemy drawing closer each day. At least the jerries were an enemy he could fight. He could shoot at them, engage with them, defeat them. This illness that plagued his baby boy could not be defeated so easily. No he needed to be there, not here. He knew there wasn’t much he could do to help if he was there but at least he would be there. He could support his wife, know what was going on in an instant instead of waiting and praying that any word from home would make it through and his son would be okay. There was no chance of that just now, not that they had finally begun to make their mark and prove that L-detachment was something that was needed in this war.
Jim was at a loss at what to do. Should he request leave? Could he request leave? He wasn’t even sure. He wasn’t even sure if he could. Not now not after the loss of Jock and now with the Frenchmen here and needing training he was sure no-one could really be spared. The decision was taken out of his hands, when the next Jolly came. He was left behind with a handful of others and the French men to await news from home. It had been decided he would be a liability due to being distracted by the upsetting news from home. He had argued for a short while. Stating he needed to fight someone, something but it had fallen on deaf ears. Those who had come to know Jim well knew that while he was an upright man who would do what was needed of him to win this war. He was one who loved his family more and that this would play on his mind, just like Jock’s death had.
It had been a few weeks since his son had started to get ill, two since he had received the letter from home telling him that he was gravely ill. Jim just hoped that he would get good news soon. While the other’s disappeared on their latest mission he sulked in his tent for a while before venturing into the makeshift mess hall where those who had also been left behind had accumulated. Dropping down on a makeshift bench, Jim sighed to himself he was at a loss. This was a kind of torture that no man should ever have to endure.
As he sat there in his own personal hell, he felt more than anything someone sitting down next to him. Looking round he was surprised to find it was one of the Frenchmen sitting down next to him, the one they called Marc Havley. Jim had learnt only a few things about the man from their initial meeting a few days before. He knew that he had lost more than just his country but his wife and children to the war all for the made up crime of being jewish. Jim didn’t know how the man was still sane or how he even kept going. Maybe he managed it because living was the only thing he had left or maybe it was his desire to seek revenge for the loss of his family. Whatever the reason Jim couldn’t help but admire the man for being able to keep going, when he was here barely keeping it together.
“I heard from the other’s your son is sick” Marc stated, his voice quiet and in accented english. “I thought maybe you would want to talk to a fellow father, although mine are gone a Father’s love still stays with me”. Jim was a little stuck on what to say in reply. Here was this man who had lost it all willing to help ease his mind over his son's illness, an illness that he had been told could end up one of two ways. With his son disabled in some way if he recovered or it would be a death sentence. “ I would appreciate that greatly,” Jim finally said. “These men as much as they have come to grow on me and become friends, few know what it is like to be a Father”. Yes most of the men in the unit were young and yet to enter unto double harness. Jim had been lucky in finding Lockie, his tour de force of a wife. He loved her and their son dearly and longed to be home with them both. These men he was around had yet to feel such a feeling.
So with Jim’s approval himself and Marc began to chat about Jim’s son and Jim’s fears and impotence at not being able to go to him. Marc had let him know the feeling was normal and that god willing everything would be fine. It helped greatly. They then moved on to sharing stories about their lives before the war and their families and for a short while both men forgot their pain. It was nice to talk about something other than the war for a change. When they had finally stopped trading stories and had both separated to fall into their army issued coats Jim felt a bit more reassured than he had felt when the day had started. A few of Marc’s words rang in his ears. “If your son is anything like you he will fight this and come out of it just fine”. He just hoped it would be true.
It was another week when any further news made its way through. Jim clutched the letter tightly as he read it. Relief filling him almost at once. While the news wasn’t fantastic it was still good news. His baby boy had turned a corner, he was fighting this and was making good progress. It was no longer a death sentence hanging over him. There was a ray of hope and it was all Jim needed to put his mind at ease. HIs son was going to beat this, he was now sure he would and it meant that he would have to keep fighting. Fighting to keep the world safe for his son.