The Royal Marine

The Marine looked on through tearful blood filled eyes at the incredulous devastation about him; his head still pounding the drumbeat of a million lost hearts. The fierce sun burning his skin helped to cover the emotions that being here on Christmas Day would otherwise bring. As this shaken hero stared he began to wonder if suggesting a game of murder ball during the truce had really been such a good idea…

Christmas in the Bahamas, It’s just not the same. Johnny had said as much to his Missus when she had suggested it, but as usual he’d gone unheard. Johnny ‘Johnno’ Johnson often went unheard at home and he was used to it now. Johnny didn’t mind, he had a good life in the Royal Marine’s needlework corps (the Sew-Sews as they were affectionately called). He had all the needles and thread that he could ever hope for and the passion he felt about knowing that the troupes were wearing well darned socks out there on the frontline thanks to him, kept him happily working well in to the night.

So when his attempt at saying he’d rather stay home for Christmas had gone unheeded it hadn’t really bothered him, he loved his wife and was more than prepared to compromise for her. On arrival it had come as a shock to discover that the hotel was a simmering pot of tension.

Due to a lack of communication between travel firms both the Organic Farmers Association and the Chemical Pestilence Producers Association were having their conferences in the same place. The conference wasn’t for a few days and things had become very nasty. Members of the CPPA had noticed that the OFA’s conference room was noticeably bigger than theirs. Members of the OFA had noticed that the CPPA’s room was closer to the dining hall giving them first shout at the buffet.

Johhny and his wife had tried to keep out of it but by Christmas eve had been forced to take sides with the CPPA after an OFA member had said that the dyes used in Forces Khaki trousers was not sustainable or fair trade. On the stroke of midnight, just as Johnny was pouting for a quick kiss a rogue firework started the fight. It had come in from out of the hotel grounds, and landed near the OFA’s sun loungers setting them alight. The OFA immediately assumed it was a CPPA attack and rallied by throwing the CPPA’s ping pong table in the pool.

This went on through the night and next morning. Johnny had been press ganged into catering service, running back and forth between the front lines and the carefully segregated buffet table. As the afternoon sun set in things had began to calm. Then it happened. No one knew where it had come from but Silent Night could easily be heard. Someone was singing (probably Taffy Jones the chemist). In no time at all every one was singing. The feeling was amazing, everyone was smiling, some were crying.

Out of nowhere Johnny had an idea, he picked up a rugby ball that was lying in the debris and jumped out into no man’s land – or the entertainments arena as it had formerly been known. No one tried to stop him but many held their breath. “Come on everyone – let’s have a game !” Johnny’s excited cries shook everyone. Finally he was being heard; finally people were actually listening to him. “It’s Christmas, we have to forget this nonsense and move on, we must forgive each other and learn to live with each other. There has to be a place where organic and non organic produce can be sold side by side!” it had gone quiet but now some murmurs could be heard. People were agreeing, they could see the sense in what he was saying. Johnny Johnson stood proud, he’d never felt so strong, so powerful. This was sadly where it started to go wrong. Drunk with the power he jumped on a table as the last of the crowds had stood up and joined him in the middle. “OK CPPA on that side OFA on this side, All you have to do is get the ball across your opponents line , OK that’s al the rules – good luck!” He threw the ball into the air and the place erupted. The noise deafened him as his table was overturned. The crush went on for an hour. Johnny managed to crawl to the sides, but he was no longer being listened too. No one could hear his desperate shouts to stop. No one cared.

The dust settled and no one was moving except one small waiter who had had the unfortunate idea of bringing a plate of oranges in for half time. He’d lost his tray but the look of determination on his face as he planted the ball over the CPPA’s line was clear to see. This victory was as important for him as it had been for the others.

Johnny Cried for a while and then went up to his room for a shower. He tried telling his wife what had happened but she didn’t listen, she just moaned about not being able to eat the salad because it had been washed in the local water. Things were already going back to normal, the metaphorical Poppies were already growing.