--- 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐌 𝟏𝟗𝟏𝟒 ---

"Your country needs you." The phrase had become so common that Genevieve wasn't even shocked to see it anymore. Lord Kitchener's face stared at her wherever she went in Birmingham, his finger pointed out towards her, urging her to fight for his cause, for her country. Boys as young as thirteen or fourteen had rushed to sign up purely as a result of Kitchener's words, and at this point, with War such a new and alien concept, Gennie had no idea what kinds of horrors these boys had signed themselves up for.

The atmosphere in Birmingham, and in Small Heath particularly, had been electric for months. All those who were able to had signed up, they'd queued for hours outside recruitment stations, they'd attended the mandatory medical examinations and had then been shipped off for three months of basic training. They'd worked on their physical strength; they'd built confidence and had instilled in them a sense of unbreakable patriotism and blind obedience. Some then went on to more advanced, intensive and often specialised training, Archibald Lock, and all three of the eldest Shelby brothers, had been sent for said training before they were finally shipped off to the continent to fight on the front line - though not before one final visit to Small Heath, to their families.

Archie Lock's final morning at home was treated just as any other morning, his uncle Billy - who had failed his medical on account of a leg injury suffered working on the locks and as a result had been advised he would not be able to fight in the war - had wished him good luck, patting his nephew on the shoulder and advising he would 'see him soon' before he headed out for a day's work on the canal. His aunt Elsie and his mother Vicky had busied themselves preparing breakfast and more pots of tea than Archibald had known what to do with, he knew they were distracting themselves from the fact that he was leaving and he had been thankful for their attempts to make his final morning at home as ordinary as possible. The only person whose attempts at normalcy had completely failed was his cousin, Genevieve.

The two of them were incredibly close, both aged just eighteen and both having spent all eighteen of those years beside the other. Gennie and Archie had been practically inseparable their entire lives, they'd devised a language all of their own which they used when they didn't want their parents to know what they were discussing and, whilst they were actually cousins, they may as well have been siblings.

"C'mon Gennie...where's my good morning smile?" Archie asked, perching on the table in the centre of the kitchen and taking a bite out of the cob of bread his mother Vicky had handed him for breakfast.

Genevieve, who was sat at the table, took a sip from the cup of tea she had been nursing for the best part of twenty minutes and pulled a face when she realised it was now stone cold. "Well that very much depends on your opinion of what a good morning is." She said after a moment's thought, glancing up at her cousin who smiled his lopsided smile down at her from his elevated position.

"I'd say it is a very good morning, today's the day I finally ship out. After all the training, all of the drills, I'm ready to go, we all are." He was referring to the Shelby brothers, whom he had been close to his entire life on account of his close friendship with John Shelby - a boy whom Gennie had been sweet on for as long as she could remember.

"I wish you'd stay." She pouted.

"...and be a conscientious objector?" Archie scoffed, taking another bite of his cob. "I'd rather be hung drawn and quartered." Gennie frowned again. "Genevieve, the War will be over before you know it, I'll be home in time for Christmas." He grinned again, wiggling his brows and Gennie couldn't help but smirk.

"I just cannot forgive you for leaving me alone with them." She nodded her head, motioning over her shoulder to where Elsie and Vicky Lock stood by the kitchen sink, deep in conversation about something that was no doubt meaningless to the likes of Gennie and Archibald.

"A few months dear cousin," he leaned down pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "That is all."

That afternoon the Lock's and the Shelby's travelled to Birmingham train station together where the boys were to say their final goodbyes and the families were to wave them off as they were shipped off to Belgium and then on to France to the front line. Gennie had spent the entire journey walking behind John and Archie who were speaking animatedly between themselves about the glory of War and the life as heroes they were going to return to when they finally got back to Small Heath, whenever that may be. Ahead of them Thomas walked, his expression stony as ever and completely unreadable. He was a little older than Genevieve, and as a result the pair had spoken only briefly in all of the years, she had known him. She knew very little about Tommy Shelby, but he was brave and resilient, she knew that much.

At the platform Archie spent a long while by his mother's side, she had lost her husband to consumption years beforehand and was now saying goodbye to her son for an undetermined amount of time - the tears that flowed down her cheeks were ones of both sadness and extreme pride in her son and what he was leaving to do.

Gennie was watching them carefully when John Shelby approached her, clearing his throat to get her attention. "Gennie, I...I just wanted to say goodbye." He said quietly, far more timidly than he had ever spoken to her before. Gennie shifted her gaze from her cousin, to his best friend and a smile illuminated her pretty features - causing John's heart to skip a beat in the process.

"Goodbye John." She said, nodding her head politely. Their gazes locked for a second and in that moment John grinned, taking her hand in his and lifting it to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss before he allowed her to return it to her side.

"I will see you when I get back?" He asked, a look of hope glinting in his eyes.

"You will." She agreed, again with a small smile.

"May I steal my dear cousin from you John Boy?" Archie Lock appeared over John's shoulder with a wicked grin, making the youngest Shelby brother jump before he hit his best friend in the chest lightly.

"Of course, Genevieve." John tipped his hat to her and Gennie nodded once more before he took his leave, moving on to his aunt Polly who had been watching the pair with a sly smile.

"Gennie, Gennie, Gennie..." Archie breathed out, taking Gennie's shoulders in his hands and looking intently at his cousin. "What am I going to do without you? Who is going to darn my socks?" Gennie laughed a response. "I'll miss you Gen."

"I'll miss you too Arch." He pulled her into a hug then, a tight one that knocked the air from her lungs, although she did not complain. They squeezed one another tightly, neither one speaking until - after a moment - Gennie whispered, "come back to us."

"Nothing could stop me." Archie assured her as he pulled away, wiping a fresh tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I love you Gen."

"I love you."

When they boarded the train, Archie, John, Thomas and Arthur sat together. The two elder Shelby brothers spoke quietly to one another, whilst John and Archie hung out of the open windows beside their seats, waving at their families with wide smiles. They had no idea what lay in store for them, the horrors of war and the things they would be forced to do. Archie grinned at his cousin, blowing her a kiss as the train pulled out of the station.

That was the last time Genevieve and Archie Lock saw one another. A young boy hanging out of a train and a crying girl on a platform, waving her very best friend off to War. 

--- 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟏𝟖 ---

The allied artillery fire on the German trenches had been relentless, none stop for over two weeks. The constant drum of machine gun fire rang in John's ears so clearly that he expected he may never forget it's sound, it was as much a part of him now as the mud and dirt of the trenches. He sat back on his haunches, his limbs stiff and his muscles weary, aching in protest at sitting in the same position for fuck only knows how long. He looked to his left towards Thomas, Arthur and Freddie Thorne, all of whom were much taller than John was and whose limbs were no doubt protesting even louder at being folded against one another in the trench and he smirked, it could be worse he supposed.

"Hey...John boy!" There was a swift elbow in his ribs and John turned to his right with a frown, raising a brow in response. "You know what today is?" Archie Lock asked, his wicked, childlike, grin hadn't once faltered throughout the war; not the first time they'd gone into No Man's Land, not when they'd lost so many of their comrades at the Somme, not even when John had taken his last cigarette in a game of cards.

"The day we go over the top?" John asked dubiously. They were waiting for the whistle, the sign from their commanding officer that the German defences had been broken and the path had been paved for the allied soldiers to storm the enemy's trenches. It's why Thomas and Freddie had been pulled from the tunnels, all hands-on deck so to speak. The end of the Great War was in sights, or so their commanding officer had told them.

"No, well yes, but no." Archibald responded with a frown, feigning offence that John had clearly provided him with the incorrect answer. "It's my birthday." He emphasised his words, enunciating them in such a way that his usually thick Birmingham accent was practically none existent. John laughed. "My twenty-second birthday."

John nodded, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a small tin box and tapping it lightly. "I remembered." Archie's eyes lit up.

"Are those?"

"They are." John smirked, they'd been waiting for cigarettes on the front line for weeks, he'd had to give his spare set of socks to a French man for these. He didn't regret it though, even though his feet felt near frozen in the muddy water of the trench, not when he saw Archie's grin. "For after, to celebrate."

Archie leant back his head against the wall of the trench, looking up at the grey clouds in the sky. He wondered where in France they were, and whether the German troops on the other side of No Man's Land were looking up at the same clouds, whether Gennie was at home looking at those same clouds. He hoped she wasn't, they were frightfully miserable, he thought, and Gennie was the least miserable person he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. "...and how we will celebrate John boy. One last push and then home."

"One last push and then home." John nodded beside him. 

John Shelby and Archibald Lock had been best friends since they were infants, no more than two or three years old when their mothers first started talking one Sunday after a church service. Archie's dad had worked on the canals, along with his uncle Billy, in fact their entire family had for as far back as they could remember. It was where they'd gotten the surname 'Lock' on account of a member of the Lock family having always operated the Locks on Birmingham's canals. The canal is where Archie's father had met Arthur Shelby Senior, although that acquaintance had been fleeting as Arthur Shelby Snr had left almost as soon as he had arrived and consumption took Archibald's father not soon after.

With Arthur Jnr and Thomas a few years older than them, John and Archie became fast friends who spent near every waking moment together. They played together, learnt together, fought alongside one another and made mistakes together, all the while being closely followed by their golden-haired shadow; one Genevieve Lock. After the death of his father, Archie and his mother Victoria – affectionately known around Small Heath as Vicky – had moved in with Billy and Elsie Lock, and their young daughter Gennie. The exact same age as both John and Archie, Gennie fought to be by their side every step of the way through their adolescence, and for the most part they allowed her to be. Until their early teenage years, when they were less interested in playing games in the ginnel and more interested in smoking, drinking and women.

Genevieve Lock had caught John Shelby's eye from the beginning, he had always been drawn to her cheerful disposition and warm smile. However, before long the inseparable trio were no more. It simply wasn't the done thing for a girl of Genevieve's age to spend such a lot of time in male company, she was asked to busy herself with women's work, whilst the boys were off pretending to be men. John thought of her often, and stole glances when he was quite sure his best friend was not paying attention, but their mutual affection continued unspoken of and when a young girl by the name of Martha fell pregnant by John, any hopes of a Shelby-Lock union were tossed to the wayside.

The sound of the whistle was faint at first, barely audible over the sound of artillery fire, but Archie heard it and jabbed his elbow hard into John's ribs once more.

"Fuck off will ya?" John groaned, rubbing at the spot with one hand, and shoving Archibald hard with the other, knocking the other man off balance.

Archie's hand splashed into the muddy puddle of the trenches and a sound that could only be described as disgust fell from his lips. He wiped his hands against his – already filthy – uniform and gave John a pointed look, tapping to his ear. "Listen."

John heard it now, the whistle, the signal that it was time to head over the top. He nodded, and turned to Arthur, Thomas and Freddie, all of whom were already on their feet, ready and raring to press forwards in what they had been assured would be their final advance against the Germans. He stood now, as did Archie beside him, and peered ever so slightly over the top of the trench towards the nothingness that lay between them and their German counterparts.

No Man's Land was a vast expanse of shell battered land, littered with deep holes forged by endless gunfights, entanglements of barbed wire, and the bodies of both allied and German soldiers that both sides had been unable to claim safely. John took a deep breath, beside him Archie grinned his wicked grin – one more push then home.

"Last one over buys the first drink at The Garrison!" Archie bellowed down the line. Freddie Thorne laughed, and never one to shy away from a bet hurled himself over the top and into the abyss, closely followed by both Tommy and Arthur.

John and Archibald went over together, as they had done countless times before, as they never would again.

No sooner had the best friends gone over the top did it become obvious that the bombardment of the German battlements had been futile and had done very little to pave a way for the allied forces, or destroy the German's fortifications. The machine gun fire from the German's was rapid, and men – good men – were mown down around them. Slaughtered.

Archie's expression, which was so often one of mischievous delight had changed to one of terror. He watched as men, some no more than seventeen years old, fell to the ground ahead of him picked off one by one like flies. In a moment of panicked confusion Archie stopped running, much to John's dismay who turned back and called out for his friend, but it was no use, the machine gun fire was too loud and his shouts were drowned out by machinery and the screams of those dying around them.

It felt to John as though Archie fell in slow motion when he was struck, and the thick mud of No Man's Land clung to John's boots, slowing him down even further as he doubled back towards him. Bullets flew over-head, and so John ducked and weaved in a desperate attempt to avoid them before he flung himself to the ground and crawled the rest of the way to Archibald on his belly, dragging himself through the thick wet mud.

"Arch...Archie" It was more of a demand than a question, as John grabbed the collar of Archie's shirt and pulled his best friend towards him. Archibald's blue eyes were wide, frightened and searching, when they settled on his face, John could've sworn he saw a glimmer of hope in them. "You're alright mate, I've got you." Blood pooled in Archie's mouth, gurgling and spilling from his lips in horrific warm spats, his hands reached for his best friend, clutching at John's arms – a desperate attempt to do something, anything.

"John!" Thomas Shelby, closely followed by his elder brother Arthur, both dropped to the ground beside their younger brother. "You alright? You hurt?" Tommy pressed.

"Gerr' off me, I'm fine it's not me, I'm fine!" John shoved Thomas away, and the elder Shelby's realised, with a mixture of both relief and horror that it was in fact Archie who had fallen.

"Arthur, get his legs. John, his shoulder...watch the bullet wound, we'll take him back. It's not far, we can make it." Arthur nodded, dutifully shifting his position so that he could scoop up Archie's legs at a moments notice. John moved to do the same.

On the ground Archie groaned, coughing on his own blood which sprayed out, landing on John's cheek. "Leave me. Leave me here."

"Fuck off." John shook his head, no.

"Gennie." Archie grabbed at John's shirt once more pulling him close. "Gennie." He said again.

"Your Gen is waiting for you back home, lets get you back home to her eh?" John had tears in his eyes now. He'd never cried in front of his brothers before, and he probably never would again, though he didn't expect they'd judge him too harshly on this occasion.

"Promise me." Archie was more forceful now, pulling John closer to his face. "Promise me you will look after her, don't let nothin' happen to her John."

"I...I promise, she's one of us, always has been. You'll see her again." John assured him, doing his level best to put on a smile.

"Promise me!" This time Archie's words were directed towards Thomas and Arthur, both of whom nodded in unison.

"Cross me heart." Arthur nodded again.

Thomas put a hand on Archie's shoulder, giving it a faint squeeze. "She'll always be safe Archie, don't you worry about that."

With that, Archie's gaze turned to the clouded sky. He blinked, looking up at those same clouds that he had done no more than an hour or two ago. "In the bleak mid-winter..." He laughed then, a sound that was not often heard out on the fields of No Man's Land, one that was not likely to be heard again.

Archibald Lock's final thoughts were