Harry gripped the man's hand as he began speaking, as he began to pass on. He gripped the hand tightly, to let him know that, at last, he was not alone, in what one must hope would be the final moments of his life. He let go of the hand and started searching the body for any dispatches. As he did so, he spoke to the others, recommending a course of action:

"Well, if we're to get to safety, the British and the French make sense--but we should be loud and obvious, hands in the air so they can see we are unarmed, shouting something like, er...'Help!' I don't believe I've met a soldier yet who would answer the cry for help with a bullet--at least, not without cause."

Harry's search of the poor man's body revealed a few things of interest. Firstly, a pouch of dispatches, which was really just a large coarse brown envelope. But also another envelope of somewhat better quality. It was marked TOP SECRET: FAO GENERAL CARRINGTON.

He also had his identity papers, and his bayonet, which was undoubtedly a better weapon than Leela's carving knife. The soldier had not even had time to draw it and affix it to his rifle.

Other than that, he merely had the usual soldier's equipment. A water bottle, some decidedly inferior rations, and a small black and white photo of a pretty girl.

It was not much of a legacy for someone who had come to fight for what he believed to be right. But that was the way of this war.

Amy gave a tight smile. "Most fearsome monster in Scotland is the women! There's a good reason the Romans couldn't conquer us!" She had considerable national pride, of course, but was not entirely wrong. Celts, Picts, Scots... the tribes of Ancient Briton had fielded their women as warriors, every bit as fearsome as their menfolk. And for Romans, killing a woman - or even worse, a virgin woman - was a major taboo. Watching a horde of half-naked, woad-painted screaming harpies descending upon them would have seriously undermined the morale of the Roman army.

She considered the revalation of dispatches. "Here, let's open them up. We need to know what is going on, and there could be something in those that lets us know what's up. I don't fancy going after a rogue Time Lord completely ignorant. And it should tell us exactly where and when we are, too. There's some places we really don't want to be in this war." Which led to the subject of which way to go. "Why don't you look at that wee time scanner thing? That fella said it would point to Mortimus, right? No point us going south to the British lines if he's holed up with the Germans. But you are all right, we can't stay here. We might run into soldiers, and we can be sure they'll be suspicious. We don't look much like a patrol! And then there's that..." She glanced very quickly at the dead man, not wanting to fix his wounds in her memory. "If whatever killed him is still out here, we definitely need to leave!"

Amy was brave, as far as she could be. She would quite willingly take on foes, and regularly did things that made her husband exasperated with her recklessness. But she was not stupid, either. Monsters with great big claws were not the Roman Army, and were unlikely to be intimidated by a Scotswoman cursing at them. Being almost anywhere else was definitely a priority.

Harry takes each item quickly and stuffs each into various pockets of his clothes, passing the bayonet to--who else?--Leela. He shot up, tripped again, shot back up and said, "We need to be moving. Hands up, unarmed, so they can see that we're not threats. I think that's our best chance. Anyone disagree?"

"No, not at all," Susan told Harry as she kept looking around for something to give them an idea as to where they should go.

"We must be extra cautious as those tracks would indicate there's something more dangerous than trigger-happy soldiers lurking about. Shall we make haste out of this area. do what we came here to do, and be off before we're exposed to the horrors of trench warfare?"

She was back in it now, despite her very real desire to return home, kiss her husband, and cook a nice meal with the bounty of their garden. There was nothing for it but to press on.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:31, Fri 18 Nov 2022.

Victoria sighed.  Fortunately for her, nothing else had happened to make her scream.  Still, she looked at the soaked ground, the water-filled artillery holes that were the result of shells falling and the low water table of the Flanders allowing them to fill.  She didn't realize that almost as many men died of drowning then died from bullets in this region.  To know that would have done her little good.  Any more than knowing how many good brits died at Balaclava.  War was no place for a gently-reared Victorian girl.

"Well, let us go then.  We need to find someplace, I suspect, and the longer we stay, the longer for shells, bullets or flying machines and blimps to come and harm us."

And with that, she started to where she thought was south.  Hopefully it was.  Or hopefully, someone would correct her as she carefully picked her way across the moonscape of no man's land...

The plan to walk safely would have been a good one, but fate decreed that it was not to be. From round one of the large mounds of mud, there appeared several men. One man had a slightly better uniform and a luger pistol, while the rest had rifles. Five men, one officer. And those guns were aimed right at the time travelers!

"Achtung! Hande hoch! Hande up right now!" The slight time delay on translation from the German showed that while the Time Lords kept their promise to translate, there was a small time delay.

The soldiers looked like they had no sense of humour at all, and were in uniforms that had seen better days, from the tears in their trousers, to the dents in their fearsome spike-topped helmets.

"What have we here? What sort of..." The officer broke off and stared at Amy, then at Leela, with a combination of disbelief and sheer horror. Legs. LEGS! These dreadful women had legs! It was quite disgusting! And left him momentarily at a loss for words. But he found them again soon enough.

"You are prisoners of the all-conquering army of the Kaiser! You will be taken in for questioning!"

They had arrived somewhere and immediately been arrested for being where they should not have been. For those accustomed to TARDIS travel, this was business as usual.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:10, Sun 20 Nov 2022.

Not hesitating, and scared out of her mind, Victoria put her hands on her hips.  "We are not combatants!  We are civilians, and mostly women, as you can see.  Is the Kaiser so stupid as to want women as prisoners?  We are... We are lost.  We are not soldiers, as you can see." Of course, she had no concept that she was the only one with a fairly long skirt.

"I demand you let us go.  We are no threat to you.  No guns, no uniforms.  Let us go, you fools!"

The officer glared at Victoria, his pistol quivering slightly, as if in some sort of internal conflict. On closer inspection, there was something... wrong with the soldiers. It was hard to pinpoint what, precisely. Their faces were less animated than one might expect, and they had the sort of eyes one might expect from someone who had not slept for a long time. Bags under the eyes and stress were to be expected in such a horrifying environment as the front line of this war, but their eyes were bloodshot, and kept sliding in and out of focus.

"You... will be... taken for questioning?" The officer demanded again, but it sounded more like a question. He was unsure? Whatever was going on, the soldiers still had their very lethal weapons raised, and their dull expressions made their threat all the more terrifying. The time travelers had all got a lot of experience under their belts, though. They could recognise mental control when they saw it. There was no way of knowing who, what, or how these troops were being puppeted, but it was a pretty fair conclusion that they were not running under their own steam - or at least, not entirely.

At first, when they all showed up, he muttered to himself, "Blast!"

Well, then his hands went up, of course. He wasn't about to get himself shot over this.

Then he observed these men, and observed Victoria, and then observed these men further. These weren't your typical humourless Germans, these were mind-controlled humourless Germans. That changed everything, he thought.

Without missing a beat, and in fact without actually putting his hands down, he took a prominent step forward, and said, "Yes, I think we shall be coming in for questioning. Lead on, take us to your...er, your leader, who most certainly wouldn't be happy if we were to be shot today."

He was moving on.

Amy rolled her eyes, and raised her hands. This was a normal day when you travel in the TARDIS, after all. "All right, hands up, take us to your leader, kaiser, or whatever!"

She noticed the peculiar nature of the soldiers, and said, quietly, to Susan, who was closest, and the nearest approximation she had for a Doctor-shaped person. "What's with their eyes? Why do they look like that? Are they aliens. They are, aren't they? They're aliens. Why are aliens fighting the first world war?"

In the Olympics of life, Amy held the all time gold medal for jumping to conclusions.

Leela growled under her breath. Clearly she was out of practice, to be surprised this way. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar surroundings, the thunder of the guns. She knew that five men with lasers-she presumed lasers, since those were the guns with which she was most familiar-against one girl with a knife was a losing proposition. Fortunately, Harry took the lead, so she didn't have to be seen to back down. "Very well. With luck the questioners will be more... intelligent." She still gathered herself to spring into action if they started shooting.

It looks very bleak. While these soldiers are clearly not under their own control, whoever does have them in the palm of their hand most certainly does not mean well. And when the officer cocks his pistol, the rifelemen do the same...

And a shot rings out!!!



Or, it would be, were this a serialised television show. But life is not really broken down into such convenient, dramatic chunks. No, the story continues.

A shot rings out!!!

And the German officer clutches his back, his pistol falling from his hand. He falls to the ground, in agony, and his life ebbs away.

Suddenly, a hail of bullets follows, and each of the German soldiers, possessed by something one can only guess at, fall to the ground. They die silently. Even the pain of being shot does not waken them from the living death that were the remnants of their lives. They fall, puppets with cut strings.

And from behind the cover of two of the large mounds, more soldiers emerge. A half dozen British soldiers, in their drab ill-fitting khaki and tin hats. And with them, an officer. A lieutenant, whose fresh face and youthful willowy figure suggest he can barely be twenty-one. But such is this war. The experienced officers are either kept back from the front lines, or did not survive long enough to lead a patrol.

These soldiers, however, do not have the dead-eyed, immobile faces of the Germans. They are wary, and have their rifles held carefully, but they are not pointed at the time traveling adventures. The officer approaches, tucking his MK VI Webley service revolver into the holster on the bandolier across his chest, the cord securing it dangling down the front of his uniform. He speaks, and the Received Pronunciation accent is one with which Victoria especially would be familiar. It speaks of the playing fields of the Eton School, and scones and tea in the afternoon on the vicar's lawn.

"I say, I am terribly sorry about that. We've been trailing these Hun for a couple of hours, trying to work out what they were up to. When we saw they'd taken prisoners, we had to polish them off before they did anything unsavoury. I do hope you are all unhurt? I'm..."

And then he saw Leela. And his view of the world went from the certainty of a British Imperial upbringing, and down a dark alley he had never known existed. Amy did not get a much better reception. He just blustered. But after a moment, he barked an order, the soldier in him telling the totally embarrassed young man to take a tea break and let someone else handle the problem.

"Sergeant Mackay! Two ladies here must have lost their luggage to these uncivilised Bavarian barbarians! Jackets, if you please!"

The sergeant stepped forwards. He was no young idealistic boy. He was a grizzled man, probably in his late forties. A veteran. A two tour soldier who probably hadn't know any other life. He barked a curt order, his broad Scottish accent a stark contrast to the officer young enough to be his own son. "Walters, Ellis! Cover the modesty of the ladies!"

Two of the soldiers removed their jackets and offered them to Leela and Amy. Which was rather a futile gesture, since it left the vast expenses of nubile leg very clearly on display. But it is the thought that counts.

The lieutenant looked a little more composed. "Sorry we can't offer anything better. It's the heat, you see? No need for greatcoats in this sort of weather. We've got something better at Forward One, and I have no doubt we can get you back to safety where some ladies will probably get you something suitable. Might just be nurse's uniforms. Not much call for togs for the gentle sex out here, you know?"

He pondered for a moment. "We really need to finish this patrol, though. Can't have the Bosche slipping through the lines right now, far too much at stake. Sergeant, take one of the men and escort them to Forward One. Captain will want to see them, and get them out of the war zone. I'll finish the patrol."

With that, he went off, the patriotic zeal in his movement causing the sergeant to shake his head in despair. He'd probably be dead by October with that sort of attitude, but there was not a lot he could do about it.

"Ellis," he growled, "You stay with me." As the patrol vanished, the sergeant stuck his thumbs in his belt. "I havenae got a clue what you are doin' out here in no man's land, but ye're way too strange a bunch to be spies. I suggest when we get back, ye all tell the truth. Captain Farraday's got more sense in his little finger than the lieutenant has in his whole body. But orders is orders. You come along with us. We'll get ye under cover in less than an hour, and ye can give account of ye'selves."

He jerked his thumb back the way they had come. "And I wouldnae think of makin' a break for it. We wouldnae try to stop ye. Waste of bullets. Hundred yards yonder is a minefield we spent three months layin'. Ye'd be chicken feed before ye went ten feet intae the thing. We'll do this all nice and polite."

He did not seem to be especially antagonistic, and the soldier pair did not point guns right at them. But he also seemed to make it clear that they were not being given many options.
This message was last updated by the GM at 02:37, Thu 08 Dec 2022.

Amy was horrified when the bullets flew, and shut her eyes, expecting to be dead at any moment. But when she was not, she opened one eye, then the other. The contrast from the awful and strange German soldiers compared to that of the British was a huge relief. But these chaps did not seem interested in listening. She tried to interrupt several times with things like "But... what.. no, listen... please, just..." But it was to no avail. Before she knew where she was, she was following along with the two soldiers, glad to be getting away from the horrors of No Man's Land, but very wary about what they were about to walk into. In her experience, things got worse before they got better.

Still, she tried to make conversation. "Sergeant Mackay? That's a proper Scottish name! And that accent... you wouldn't be a son of Aberdeen by any chance?"

Small talk was a good way to get people to reveal things by accident. The Doctor had shown her that, and he was an expert. Over the years, she had picked up some similar skills. But a professional NCO in the First World War British Army would be a very tough nut to crack. She just had to try, and hope that a little shared national pride would ease the way.

Of course, Victoria dropped to her knees and screamed.  Bullets aimed at her (or her enemies) frightened her.  She had heard gunshots before, and alien shots too.  But not so close, and not at her, though they hit others.  So she creamed, and dropped.  And held her hands to her ears.  So she missed much of what they said.

But she saw the men go to cover Amy and Leela with coats.  That made sense.  But they did not come to help her up, so she stood up on her own.

"Please, we are lost.  Take us to safety?" was the best she could manage.  She looked around, but knew they were right.  She was alone with her friends in a war zone, and to stay was to be shot or bombed.  So she looked for the first man of authority.  That would be the Lieutenant.  Or the Sergeant.  Or any soldier that would help her along.  She was shaking, and tears were in her eyes.  Oh, what had she landed in?

Leela draws her knife, preparing to finish off any of the enemies who might stand up, but none do. "We are unhurt" she says to the new soldiers. "Impressive. Both stealth and fighting ability" she admits. These new soldiers were
She accepted the jacket, although a little puzzled by the necessity. Perhaps it was armored in some way. She put it on.
She went over to Victoria, wanting to offer support but not sure what to say when Victoria was so different from her.

Susan had traveled time and space with her grandfather and had seen and done things beyond belief but none of those things kept her from jumping at the gunfire that cut down the German soldiers who had been acting very odd. She waited for the fire to die down before coming out of her crouch and opening one eye to look around, then the other when she saw the British soldiers come out of their place of concealment.

She stayed silent and let the officer draw his conclusions about them based on their state of dress (or undress in some cases) and simply nodded at the young lieutenant and watched him leave to finish his patrol.

She sighed and turned back to the very Scottish sergeant as he told them exactly what he thought in the gruff tones she associated with every sergeant she had ever met, no matter the time or world in which the meeting had taken place.

"It would seem we are in your capable hands, Sergeant Mackay and have neither the need nor the desire to give you a hard time. Lead on and we shall follow," she told the man.

As the sergeant led the way to safety, Private Ellis came to Victoria's side. He looked at Leela nervously. She was close, and she was armed, but he was not going to be the one to point this out, as she looked rather unwilling to give up her blade without a struggle, and he did not get paid enough to get into knife fights with half naked women in No Man's Land. Instead, he just held a hand out to Victoria, and spoke with a soft Welsh accent. "Here you are,  miss, you take my hand. We'll get you out of here and you'll be right as ninepence in no time." He could not have been more than nineteen. Of course, by 1916 the British Army had started conscripting men from the age of eighteen, and a fair number had volunteered by lying about their age. Still, he looked far too young to be carrying a rifle in a war. But he was a kind, gentle looking young man. Not someone who should have been forced into battle.

Sergeant Mackay looked at Amy in surprise. He had not expected to meet anybody out here, let alone a Scottish lassie. "Peterhead," he said, "So near to Aberdeen as makes nay difference. Ye're a long way from home yeself, lass. I dinna ken how ye got out here without being spotted, but I'd advise not trying again. There's worse than mines and Germans out here."

He looked around with a frown, then clammed up. He picked up the pace as much as could be managed over the blasted terrain, but refused to clarify anything about his ominous statement.

By some good fortune, they did manage to get to Forward One without coming under attack again. The outpost was little more than a couple of wide trenches, and a few rooms made from duckboard and canvas. It was a forward observation post, from which patrols could be sent out. The sergeant led them into a damp, gloomy underground chamber. "Wait here for the captain. Ellis, you stay outside. Dinnae let anybody in or out, lad. I'll go fetch his nibs." He regarded his rescued charges with a gruff expression. "I'll see about some tea, and maybe some food. Not much more than bully beef out here, but I wouldnae see ladies fadin' from lack of food."

In truth, the journey had taken nearly an hour, in the baking heat of the sun. The dark, cool damp of the chamber was a blessed relief. It had a desk, a telephone, some maps, and a battered wooden chair. It was probably the closest anything could get to a formal office. The air was heavy with damp, even in the heat of the day, but the foul smell of gas that had hung across No Man's Land was absent, and though it had made throats sore, it had not been concentrated enough to do any serious damage.

The sergeant departed, leaving the group alone again.

With a gasp of relief, Victoria regarded the soldier, the boy, who was just a little older than her.  She glanced at Leela, then took his had and allowed him to lead her.  The warmth of his grip calmed her, and gave her hope.  He was not Jamie, but he was clearly a properly brought up lad, and that made her feel safer.

She gave her thanks to the young man when they arrived, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek for further thanks.  Then she accompanied the rest into the outpost.  She waited until everyone else left, then found a place to sit down.

"And I thought the Doctor landed in awful places.  Whatever can we do now?"

Amy was, as usual, fuelled with bold spirit and rapid action. It was usually her downfall. Reflection was not one of her top five personality traits. "I'll tell you what! We open that top secret letter!" She frowned and explained. "If this was just a normal war, I'd not read someone else's letters, but we know there's a bad Time Lord here, we also know that there's something weird going on out there! Those Germans weren't... normal!" She shuddered as she recalled their vacant expressions, and the silent way they all died. "They were like... German zombies or something! What are the odds that the top secret letter we took off a body in the middle of nowhere isn't something to do with all this? We've all done this sort of thing before. There has to be something in that letter that we can use! The sergeant clearly knows more than he's telling, too. I don't know if we'll get the chance, but if we can make him talk, we might get an idea what's happening. All we're doing right now is walking about blind!"

There was a fifty-fifty chance at best that they were going in the right direction. There was no reason to assume this time meddler person was camped with the British and the French. Maybe he was here to help the Germans win the war, and totally rewrite human history. They needed more information!

He turned to Victoria and tried to comfort her.

"All we can do is try to use whatever skills we've got, from our lives before and after the Doctor, and our wits, and try to come out on the other end of this whole matter."

Harry nodded, and went to the edges of the chamber, just to see if they were being eavesdropped on. He would only pull the letter out from his coat if he could ascertain their solitude down here.

He spoke in hush tones, so that only the others could hear, saying, "Well, we should read the letter, just in case. It might have something to do with all this. Then again, it might not. It should help us begin ascertaining who we can trust in this whole situation--countrymen included, hopefully."

The room was little more than a wood lined pit. No electricity, the only light comes from Hurricane lamps, or through the canvas that serves as a door. Private Ellis was outside, but he was talking to one of his friends, and not paying much attention to the conversation inside. Young, and trusting, he did not seem to think there was any need to eavesdrop.

There was no sign of any listening devices that were easily discernible. Certainly the sort of bugs that were an issue decades later did not even exist yet. Of course, if there were aliens about, almost anything might be possible, but there was no sign of anything suspect. For the moment, at least, they were alone, and unobserved, though they had only a little time before the Captain came to interview them, presumably.

Quickly, Harry pulled the papers out and began scanning them, motioning anyone else in to look over the very same papers as he read them.

The letter was hand written, in a decent and legible hand. It read:

June 27th, 1916
Abbeville

General Carrington,

Our agent in Bapaume has confirmed that the target is present as part of BRI Regiment 16. His duties are as a message runner, and he holds the rank of Gefreiter, an equivalent to our lance corporal.

It is currently impossible to carry out the assigned task. The Germans are so thick on the ground that any attempt would be foolhardy in the extreme, and have almost no chance of success. Once the offensive commences with troops on the field, those forces will be deployed, and it should be far easier to eliminate the target. As a runner, he will be exposed, and likely will not be missed until long after the deed is done.

I am still not entirely sure why such an insignificant little man has been given such prominence in the forthcoming offensive, but our agent in Bapaume assures me that he seems to be hardly more than a relatively unpopular little man with an equally little dog. His demise can hardly have any impact on the war, more important men die every day on both sides of the line. Nevertheless, I will write to you as soon as I have confirmation that the assignment has been successfully completed.

As ever, your servant,

Major Bruce
Intelligence HQ
Abbeville.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:20, Sat 31 Dec 2022.

Amy read the note. She read it again. And then she said. "I... I don't get it." There was nothing in it at all that screamed alien invasion or mind-controlled soldiers perverting the course of human history. "It says assignment. It means killing that man, right? It does, doesn't it?" She looked at the others, in a degree of confusion. "Who would go to such a great length to kill some insignificant lance corporal, when we're in the middle of a war? He'll probably end up dead anyway!"

She had expected to discover some great conspiracy to take over Earth. Instead, someone was going to kill a little man with a little dog. I mean, she really hoped they didn't kill the little dog, that was just terrible. It was possible this did have something to do with the time lord, some way of messing up Earth good and proper. But she wasn't getting the connection. She hoped one of her new friends had a better angle on things.