A quick fic-clip
A paragraph from the Passchendaele fic I'm working on...
And yet, he wore the DCM, even as he carried a piece of paper in his pocket. Always carried that piece of paper, damn him, like it was a lifeline and he was on a sinking ship, and confound it all if the man didn't sometimes seem more proud of the paper that declared him mentally (deserter) incompetent (deserter!) than he was of the award.
Distinguished Conduct Medal. Second only to the Victoria Cross. Dark blue on crimson, and the man did not deserve to wear it.
Right, bed now!
And yet, he wore the DCM, even as he carried a piece of paper in his pocket. Always carried that piece of paper, damn him, like it was a lifeline and he was on a sinking ship, and confound it all if the man didn't sometimes seem more proud of the paper that declared him mentally (deserter) incompetent (deserter!) than he was of the award.
Distinguished Conduct Medal. Second only to the Victoria Cross. Dark blue on crimson, and the man did not deserve to wear it.
Right, bed now!