After his company had spent a week in Amiens, Thomas had acquired a reputation for virtue. Not everyone in his company visited the brothel in town, but those that did not gave reasons: they were engaged, or married, or they preferred English girls. All but Thomas. He was not about to out himself, but he did not want to lie. This was a new life, he was turning over a new leaf, and it felt good.

That night the only soldier who wanted to "go into town" was a new recruit, Private Easton.

"No point in asking St. Barrow," he muttered when passing the door to Thomas's bunk.

"Wait a moment. Private…" Thomas said and swung his feet over the side of his bunk.

The soldier stopped still in his tracks, eyes wide.

"What is the problem?" Thomas asked, slightly annoyed, but also enjoying the young man's discomfort.

"I want to… go into town tonight, and no one will… come with me."

"I'll come with you. My halo could do with some tarnishing." Thomas smiled and set down his book.

The brothel was in the back of a haberdashery, a door in a wall under a green lantern. Thomas leaned against the stones as Private Easton opened the door. He grinned at Thomas. "You going to stand there and judge every man who crosses the threshold?"

Thomas exhaled a puff of smoke in the cold night air. "Judge not lest ye be judged, Private."

Private Easton grinned again and went inside. To contract some venereal disease he would not live long enough to regret. Thomas shivered in the chill night air. His eyes scanned the alleyway. He saw three men, linked arm-in-arm, set off in the opposite direction down an adjacent alley. Thomas knew the door with the green lantern could not be the only institution of its kind in Amiens, he knew there were other men of his persuasion here in France, and he knew they would have found some way to find their release in safety. He ought to know where to go, should that need arise. He had needs, he was a man after all, but he did not want be driven to find another door in another wall with another green lantern. Not if he could help it.

He could not tell in the dim light, but two of the men he was watching might have leaned close enough to kiss. Thomas dropped his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out. He wanted to wait just long enough that they would not suspect they were being followed. As he was counting down from ten, the door in the wall opened, and a soldier fell flat at Thomas's feet.

"Bloody – " Thomas caught himself. "Watch yerself!"

The three friendly soldiers were gone.

The man on the ground moaned.

"I know you've just gotten it in, but some of us haven't and they care about gettin' knocked over." Thomas brushed his uniform.

"Go right in. S-sorry for blocking you." The man got on all fours and adjusted his belt. The dim green light glinted off his insignia. Thomas's back stiffened.

"Can I help you, lieutenant?" he said solicitously.

The lieutenant shrugged. "Don't care," he slurred.

Thomas reached down to hold him under one arm.

The front of the lieutenant's uniform was smeared with mud. He looked down at it and only said, "Hmm."

Thomas brushed him off. "Are you all right, sir?"

"I don't care," the lieutenant said. His face was in shadow. He blinked. He pushed Thomas away.

"Are you here alone, sir?"

The lieutenant stood illuminated by the lantern hanging over the door to the brothel. There were tears in his eyes. He ran down the alleyway, the same way as the three affectionate men.

Thomas waited for Private Easton.