Day 561

He didn't realise he'd taken a wrong turn until he smelt smoke.
The tube route he took hadn't changed in over 10 years and yet he found himself lost.
Every breath of air around him was dense with dust and the stink of human sweat.
As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit platform he saw he wasn't alone.

At least forty others were there, mostly women and children for some reason.
They ranged from infants to the elderly with a few wounded or elderly men crouched near to him.
Every one of them was filthy and wearing fairly old fashioned clothing, all staring at him too.
Not only was their skin stained with dirt, they were covered in cobwebs and dust as well.

They reminded him of his aunt's attic, musty and unused.
He smiled nervously as one of the men approached him and asked why he was there.
Just about managed to stutter out that he'd taken a wrong turning on his way to the Bakerloo line.
The dirt-stained man clarified - why was he here and not on the frontlines?

It took two repeats for him to understand that the man meant a war somewhere.
He replied that he wasn't a soldier and they were withdrawing the troops from Afghanistan now.
The old man replied in a wheezy tone, "Listen here boyo, if you can stand then you're a soldier.
They need every possible hand out there - can't let Old Blighty down!"

It dawned on him then that their clothes reminded him of the old war photos in his school textbooks.
The ones from the first world war when they'd used the tube stations as air raid shelters for the poor.
He must have stumbled across a re-enactment!
Congratulating them on their performance he backed away and tried to leave.

The stairs he'd walked down were sealed off with corrugated iron sheets and thick chains.
He asked how long those had been there and was told "Since the sirens went off, so about 5 hours."
Going to check his watch he found it missing, found his suit all dusty and cobweb coated.
Looking up he found himself sitting with them, he was a child once more and the sirens wailed.