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Summary
When Edmund Blackadder, bloodied from shrapnel and ears ringing from the shelling, stumbled over Captain Darling's body caught in a tangle of barbed wire, he did not, despite many assurances towards it over the years, laugh, clap, and dance.
Instead, Blackadder took in the dark-wet definitely-not-mud stain spread all over Darling's uniformed chest, the pistol lax in his grip, his unseeing eyes turned up towards the overcast sky, and said, "oh, bloody buggering hell.""Quite," agreed Darling, squinting down at his own corpse; and, despite the unfortunate circumstances, took great pleasure in hearing Blackadder scream like a little girl.