soldier in the fields, of Suchdol
“I stand watch in the wet grass and wait for orders that never come, chewing my own cheek to ribbons.”
Things Joseph had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Vespers
The rain has not stopped for three days. My straw is rot and the oats taste of woodsmoke and dirt. Baldwin told a tale about a Hungarian bishop that nearly made me swallow a stone, but I am too cold to laugh properly. We wait and we rot.
the Thursday after St George, at Prime
If a certain man walked past my fire and admitted he left a poor wretch to die in the mud, I might finally sleep. Until then I will spit on the ground every time I see his face. God sees what you did on that field.
You talk too loud, Joseph. Keep your teeth shut before you get us both stripped of our pay.
Admit your fault and I will never speak of it again.
Nota scribaeThe man spat on my boots as he said this.
the third day of Easter week, at None
Walter has been running his mouth about the line breaking. Christ almighty, no man could have held that flank when the mud gave way. If the captain hears this talk, we will all be flogged and lose our groschen. Let it die.
You stepped back first. I only say what I saw. But I do not want the whip any more than you do.
Both of you shut your mouths before an officer walks by.
the Monday after St Gregory, at Sext
I spent the morning running a whetstone over my blade. It needs oil, but we have none. Better this than breathing sawdust in my father's yard, though my boots are letting the damp in and my teeth ache from the cold.
Nota scribaeHe chewed the inside of his mouth the whole time he spoke.
Candlemas, at Terce
The priest says we must tell him our days for the Pope. I have nothing to tell but standing watch in a field near Suchdol. The wind is biting, the food is foul, and I wish I was anywhere else. Put that in your book.
Nota scribaeDictated under duress while the captain watched.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Wait until I tell you what the bishop did with the turnip, lad. That will warm you up.