Fuck it's bright. That was the first thing registering in Henry Arthur's brain. His eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring straight up at an electric light, hanging above the bed he was in. He tilted his head to the left and groaned in pain and once more upon registering what he saw.
He was in a tent, and probably still in France. Just to the left of him were a small handful of beds with soldiers in them, none of whom looked particularly conscious. He spotted someone rush towards him and his heart began to beat faster. It must be a nurse and Henry hasn't seen a woman in ages.
"Oh no no Private Arthur. You should not be awake yet," the person said...in a male voice. How disappointing thought Arthur. "Oh a fast healer are you? Well we do need the beds freed up with the attacks the Huns continue to throw at us."
Henry moved his head slowly, letting his eyes settle upon the man. "There was an explosion," he found himself saying rather slowly. The man exuded patience and let him finish.
"Ah yes, yes. That would have been the potato masher. It only left superficial wounds on your left arm, but it knocked you out for some time." As Henry listened he found he could hear the weariness in the man's voice and he began to wonder how long he had been up taking care of the wounded.
After Henry took a slow ragged breath and began to open his mouth to speak the man interjected before the first syllable could be spoken. "I would go back to sleep if I were you. You'll be getting visitors in the morning."
Henry found that that suggestion was quite easy to follow.
Something rough passed over Henry's wrists. He tried to move them and felt them held firm by something solid. He found himself straining against what he figured were restraints, but the effort quickly tired his bruised body back into unconsciousness.
The morning came quickly. Henry awoke, managed to eat some broth and was pleased to see it stay down and engaged in idle talk with the new field doctor that came in. The doctor was friendly and far more awake than the man during the evening, but he kept his mouth shut when asked when Henry could be back on the field.
After some time another man walked in, perhaps in his forties with dark hair and a grizzled beard. Henry's eyes flicked to the insignia that designated him as a Company Sergeant Major. Before Henry could move, the man said "Relax, private. Just wanna talk."
Relaxing against the bed, Henry said with care, "Okay."
"Well first," the Sergeant began awkwardly, "I'm Company sergeant Major Wil Blackbird. And it was my fault you ended up in here. I was just around the corner from you and I killed a Hun, and his masher ended up near you."
Henry grunted in acknowledgement, then uttered, "Shit happens. Doc says it wasn't bad."
The Sergeant smiled at that, "That it wasn't. You got lucky. But I want to make it up to you." Henry began to open his mouth to protest but Wil waved his hands to quiet it down. "Look, I'm a member of a club that is wide-ranging in it's memberships. And from what I've seen of you you do definitely belong."
Henry stared at him, "A club..." he began, but Wil once more interjected. "Yes, a club. And the people that are there are the types you want to know once this thing ends. I don't know what your plans are after, but I doubt it is to go back to the farm you grew up on."
Before Henry could even voice protest to the Sergeant knowing his particulars, he found himself shaking his head and saying "No. Fuck no," to that in strong protest.
Nodding in understanding, Wil stated, "You meet our qualifications. Just mention my name at any chapter house and they'll let you in." He paused, then smirked, but his heavy voice betrayed that smirk "Maybe I'll buy you a drink sometime."
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