Title: Alfie's War - Chapter One

Chapter One
15th August 1914

Alfred McNeill, aged 15, was walking home on the warm, cosy afternoon with his best friends, John Wallace and William Burns, after a tiring long and difficult day of college in the hub of Central London. They strolled, chatting about days gone by. They turned into one of the millions of streets of sad and depressing terraced houses. The blue of the sky seemed a world away from the browns and beiges of this miserable existence. Alfie himself was not from this area. His parents were among the wealthiest in London. His mother was one of the typical ladies of the aristocratic society of the upper classes. She couldn’t care less about Alfie or his twin brother Tommy. She was a lady of leisure. Alfie's step dad couldn't care much either.

He was a drunk, wealthy business tycoon. He hated children, especially young teenagers like Alfie. He had hated Alfie from the moment he had come into his life. Constantly beating him and undermining him, Alfie loathed him with all the evil in his mind and body.

"So Alfie, what you doing later?” asked John. Alfie blushed a scarlet red. Will jumped at the opportunity.

"You paying the Lovely Lucy a wee visit tonight eh?” he asked in his strong Scottish accent. John laughed and they exchanged a slap on the back.

"You don't have any right to peak into my private affairs” replied Alfie.

"That's just the posh side of you talking, don't worry we won't rain on your parade, we'll just watch” replied John.

"You sorry sod!” Alfie exclaimed, "I'll bloody hit you if you do turn up!”

"Anyway,” Will continued, "He won't even tell the wee lass how he feels about her anyway, so it'll be rather dull to follow him to Cheapside!”

"That is true I suppose,” John replied thoughtfully, "I guess there are much better things to be doing on this beautiful afternoon, other than watching Alfie trip up over his words yet again!”

"Like sign up for the Army!” Will said.

John stopped winding Alfie up. They both fell silent.

"Are you totally out of your mind Will?” Alfie exclaimed.

John looked at Will as if he had just lost his sanity completely. "Join The Army? We're 15, in case it slipped out of that ginger brain of yours...” he said.
"Don't be so daft John ol' laddie!” Will replied earnestly, "You heard about Robert Moore?”

"What about him?” The others asked, curious about what mad thing Will would come up with next.

"He's 13, right? Anyway, he went up to the Recruitment Officer, told him he was 18 and they didn't bother to check! He got in quicker than a German could shot a bullet!”

"You serious?” John asked, in awe.

"As I live and breathe John!” his companion replied.

Alfie went into a deep thought. "Why not sign up? If an idiot like Robert Moore can get in, then so can we!”

"Alright then boys, it'll be over by Christmas anyway...” John sighed.

Will then grew really excited. "Come on then, what are you waiting for? Lets get to this War before it all ends!”

Soon they got to the office. There were many young men and boys queuing in order to sign up for the upcoming war. The room was over-heated and Alfie felt terribly suffocated. The queue went down quicker than any of the boys could of anticipated.

Soon, it was Alfie's turn to be scrutinised by the Recruitment Officer.

"Name?” asked the officer. He was an over-weight man with a scarlet face and a huge moustache that had seen better days in its lifetime. Alfie noted that his breath stank of a mix of rotten fish and tobacco, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I asked for your name sir,” the officer said as Alfie realised that he'd been in another world once again.

"Uh, Alfred Robert McNeill, sir”

"Age?”

"I'm eighteen sir"

"Of course you are Alfred," The officer replied stolidly, "Go through that door, and come back in, and we'll see how old you are when you come back"

Alfie obeyed, and walked out of the door, turned on his heels and then returned back into the Recruitment Officer's office.

"Age?" the officer quizzed.

"I'm eighteen sir"
"Welcome to the Army McNeill."

It was beginning to get cooler as the three friends stepped out of the Office.

"See, told you so!" Will exclaimed, "I told you so! We're soldiers now! No school, no parents to nag you about anything, no teachers telling you you're factory fodder! Oh, hurry up tomorrow!"

The Recruitment Officer told them to report to him the very next day with their belongings, ready to be shipped off to their training camp in Wales. There was no going back now, and they knew it, relished it, and looked forward to it eagerly.

"I have NO clue how I'm going to tell my folks, they love me to bits," John said dully, "Mother will worry, but I'll be alright, she'll see!"

"I don't think mine could care less!" Alfie said brightly, "If I die, it'll be one less boy to worry about, Tommy's her favourite son, the one with all the potential to take over the business."

"But Lucy will miss you terribly..." Will teased cheerfully.

Alfie blushed so hard his ears turned scarlet with embarrassment. "Nah," Alfie said shyly, "She knows I always get myself into scrapes, and that I always come out of them alright."

"Sure..." John said cheekily, his eyes sparkling with excitement at this latest jest.

"You jest at scars that never felt a wound," Alfie quoted in a pompous manner, imitating the English teacher, Mr. Roberts.

The boys laughed themselves to tears.

"Well, we may as well go home to pack and give the news to our folks!" Will said, as he wiped a rouge tear away from his emerald eyes, "Wish us all luck!"

"Yeah, got to be home in time for dinner," Alfie agreed solemnly.

They put their hands on top of each-others', like they had done every day before going their separate ways since they met in Standard One, and said their age-old motto:

"Who Dares Wins."