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fighting and dying it’s not them goingto France.”
    “But how can you stand being called a coward?” said Jack.
    “Maybe it’s more cowardly to join up just because someone tells you to,” he replied.
    So Jack remained torn. But soon another opportunity arose – one that would silence all the cranks and critics.

7. A Hearts Battalion
    The first Jack heard of it was one evening after training at Gorgie Road. McCartney called all the players together into the dressing room. He stood up on a bench and removed his hat.
    “There’s no need for me to remind you all of what the newspapers are publishing these days about the professional game,” he said. “Rot – pure and simple. I don’t like it and neither does the Board.”
    A roar of agreement filled the room. McCartney raised his hand for silence.
    “Well, in the past few days an opportunity has arisen to do something about it. Edinburgh already has one battalion preparing to join the British Expeditionary Force in France. Now a second city battalion is being raised by a long-time Hearts supporter, Sir George McCrae. He needs to enlist over a thousand men and has approached the directors with the idea of appealing for volunteers under the banner of Heart of Midlothian – a battalion of Tynecastle supporters to train and fight together.”
    The men cheered and McCartney waited again for quiet.
    “But to make the plan work,” he continued, “Sir George needs players to rally support. So the Board has agreed to keep paying full wages to anyone who enlists, as long as he’s able to play football in the regular season, and half wages when unable due to military service. This comes with an agreement to re-engage any player on original terms if fit and well upon return from the conflict. So I’m here to ask: will you join and serve king and country?”
    Jack rose to his feet without hesitation, along with most of the other players. Hugh had been sitting next to him on the bench and looked up white-faced.
    “Come on – a Hearts battalion!” urged Jack.
    Slowly Hugh stood up as well.
    ***
    That night over supper Jack said nothing to his parents. He knew how his mother would react – anger then tears, a dozen reasons for not going. He saw no point in arguing about it now.
    Next day at training Sir George sent along a physician to check that all the volunteers were fit for service. Jack waited his turn in the line but decided not to mention his childhood asthma as the doctor listened to his heart and chest. Certainly if he could play football he was fit enough to be a soldier.
    An appeal was published that week in all the local newspapers along with the announcement of a grand rally to be held on Friday night at the Usher Hall.
    TO THE YOUNG MEN OF EDINBURGH
    The present crisis is one of extreme gravity. World-wide issues are trembling in the balance. I appeal with confidence to the patriotism and generous enthusiasm of my fellow citizens … All cannot go, but if your home ties permit, and you shirk your obvious duty, you may escape a hero’s death, but you will go through your life feeling mean. In the presence of the God of Battles, ask of your conscience this question: DARE I STAND ASIDE?
    Jack read that morning’s The Scotsman sitting out by the canal eating the sandwich his mother had packed. A hero’s death, he thought to himself. It sounded like something out of Greek legend – the Spartan borne from battle upon his own shield. Except there were no shields now, only a telegram from the War Office notifying the family that a son or father had been killed or was missing in action. Afew families in Fountainbridge had already received such telegrams.
    Yet the newspapers still spoke of a quick end to the war. Jack figured chances were he wouldn’t even see action – though he hoped not. Otherwise what was the point of being a soldier?
    Staring into the murky water of the canal he tried to imagine his mother receiving such a telegram. Sitting with her cup