David stared blankly out the window. Oh, God! A soldier's worst fear. At least he's created a family. But... He closed his eyes and continued thinking. I'd still be able to please Maria with hands and mouth. With balls gone, though, there'd be no drive. I'd much rather lose an arm like the chap across from me. Even an arm and a leg, maybe two...

He paused his thought when the conductor opened the door and asked for tickets. After they had been punched, David got up and headed out to the pissoire for an overdue pee. As he stood at the trough, he looked down. God! He'll have to drop his trousers and squat to do this. But I suppose if women do... Maria's so beautiful down there, her delicate folds, so sensitive for her... He shuddered as he began swelling. My God, I miss her.

He glanced at the man beside him and thought, Have to stop thinking about her like this in public. God, she rouses me. He finished and tucked himself away, buttoning his jacket to cover. After washing his hands, he went back to his compartment where he lifted the basket down and took out Under Western Eyes and began reading to distract.

He was partway through the third chapter when the conductor announced Vesoul, and the train began slowing. As they pulled to a stop in the station, Jean-Claude rose from his seat, picked up his bag and extended a hand to shake. "This is my stop." He nodded toward David's crotch. "Take care of your family jewels. You'll never know how precious they are until you lose them."

David nodded and stepped out into the corridor with him. "You're leaving the Army now?"

"No, only taking a short break at home. I'll be back. I have very little else to lose."

"We'll win this." They shook hands again, then he watched as Jean-Claude waddled down the aisle and turned the corner. Back in his seat, David picked up the book and tried to resume reading. He stared blankly at the page. Blindness, maybe. No, not even that. Arms, legs, sight. None of them. My penis and balls are my force of life. My means of continuing the species. I cannot do that with any other parts. Man's primal urge is to procreate, and these are his only means. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.

He awoke to the conductor's announcement of their arrival in Langres, and he looked around to orient himself. Pulling the map from his breast pocket, he unfolded it and ran his finger along the rail line from Vesoul to the edge of the sheet. Need the next map. He refolded the map and looked at the grid on its front. Need Nº 17. I'll get it after we stop.

The brakes squealed the train to a stop, the officer with the cane stood, said his farewells and left. As David rose to take his satchel down, the officer with the missing arm asked, "Vous descendez ici aussi?... You're getting off here also?"

"Non, juste récupérer une carte. Je continue à Paris... No, just getting a map. I'm continuing to Paris."

The officer introduced himself as Loic. "I'm going to Paris also, then home to Samur. Your accent. It sounds South-West."

"My mother was from Toulouse, but had moved to Canada the year before I was born."

"So what's a Canadian doing down here? I thought you were all up in the North and in Flanders."

"I was in Ypres two months ago, but I was wounded and trapped behind their lines, so I evaded and escaped across occupied Belgium and Germany to Switzerland."

"That's a long distance to travel through enemy territory, particularly in an enemy uniform."

"I speak some German, my mouth and face were ripped to shreds to disguise my strange accent, so I stripped a dead German soldier, dressed in his uniform and played as one of their wounded."

"Clever... Your face? You say ripped to shreds? It appears to have been reconstructed well."

David described his facial wounds and what had been done and Loic asked to examine them. "I'm a surgeon and I'm always interested to see the work of others." David moved across to sit beside Loic and leaned to allow him to part his beard and study the lines of scars.

"Very fine work. This was done in a field hospital?"

"It was in Roeselare. I was still rather stunned at the time, but I think it was in a seconded Belgian hospital. It was rather modern from what I remember of it."

"Very fine work."

David sat up and nodded to Loic's missing right arm. "How did that happen?"

"The German artillery targeted our field hospital." He shook his head. "They had to have. It was the only thing they hit during their ten-minute barrage."

"What fucking cowards they are. Attacking defenceless wounded. So, you'll be leaving the Army now."

"No, just taking time to recover and get used to this. We have far too few doctors at the Front. I can still examine, diagnose and advise, and hopefully, once I get my own mind around this," he lifted his shoulder and looked at the bulge of his short stump, "I'll be able to offer comfort and counselling to others."

"Takes great courage to go back."

"But you're also going back, otherwise, you would have stayed in Switzerland."

"True. I was sorely tempted, and I struggled for a long while with thoughts of remaining as my situation improved. I've now a wife there, I've financial independence and so many projects to pursue. The family owns vineyards and wineries and I've become fascinated with winegrowing and winemaking." David let out a loud breath. "I'm really quite daft to be leaving it all behind."

"Daft? No. Courageous? Yes. A man of honour and integrity." He studied David's face. "My family has vineyards in the Loire, so I grew up in the lifestyle. I had been studying fermentation chemistry before I switched to medicine." He laughed. "Life choices. I diverted to medicine to follow a young woman who had caught my eye."

"You still with her?"

"No, it was a fleeting thing." He smiled. "All physical, but by the time we went our separate ways, I had become captivated by medicine, so I continued."

"Maria... My wife is beginning to work on a project with the wives of the Swiss President and the British Ambassador and others. The idea is to convince France, Britain and Germany to transfer their wounded prisoners of war to Switzerland, relieving the countries of their Convention obligations to care for them."

"A noble idea." He nodded slowly, then looked into David's eyes. "That sounds like a perfect project for me. How might I contact her?"

"Probably best to write to the Ambassador's wife." He took his pen and notebook from a pocket and wrote:

Mrs Edith Grant Duff
British Embassy
Bern, Switzerland

David tore the page from his notebook and handed it to Loic. "This should easily reach her."

Loic stared at the page, nodded and smiled.