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# The Steadfast Soldier
- URL: https://martinsmithstories.ghost.io/the-steadfast-soldier/
- Published: 2026-04-19T03:22:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-12T20:42:58.000Z
- Description: A soldier on duty laments his lack of a love life.
- Author: Martin Smith
- Tags: Book 5: All Hail the King!

There was once a soldier who stood in steadfast guard under a sprig of mistletoe on Christmas Eve. With a chiselled chin and steely resolve, he shouldered his musket and looked straight ahead, resplendent in his uniform of red and dark blue. Though not as dark a blue as his mood.

Every year was the same. He’d draw the short straw and have to work the festive season. Sure, he got paid double-time and New Year’s Eve off, but he was always allocated guard duty whilst the staff Christmas Eve party revellers raged on. Not only did he miss all the fun and frivolity, but he had no chance to improve his love life, which was, well, in the shithouse and truly beyond the S-bend. It just wasn’t fair. Especially having to witness the debauched shenanigans going on. Nothing like free booze and Yuletide cheer to flaunt HR-stipulated protocol.

The steadfast soldier released a big sigh. And a hiccup. To be truthful, he was a little legless, for he had earlier taken a tipple or three of the spirited eggnog to dull his angst. God, was he sick of being seen as the dull, responsible one! How was he ever going to woo the future love of his life when everyone thought him a boring fart, as stiff as a ramrod, as cold and aloof; indeed, of having a tin heart?

But he was none of these. That’s because no one knew the real him, nor that beneath his stern, steadfast demeanour he was a funny, fun-loving kind of guy. And a born romantic. Yes, if only he could mingle to find a soulmate, his heart of tin would surely melt to a molten love.

Part of the problem, apart from his work commitments, was that it was the same old crowd every year. There was never any new blood. There was Angel, who was a real diva and acted as if she was above everyone else. Then there was Candy, a pallid redhead of a seductive, stick-thin curve and a sickeningly sweet personality, and Jacqueline, whom the steadfast soldier swore had ADHD, for she always popped up out of nowhere and scared the living shit out of everyone when they least expected it. Last year, he tried to chat up Bonnie Bonn during his rostered break. Alas, despite his best one-liners, not a single spark ignited between them. Later, he’d seen her getting hot and steamy with Frosty and going off like a cracker.

The steadfast soldier released another sigh. How could he have his happy ever after if his here and now lacked opportunity?

But then he gasped! His heart raced and he felt like he would swoon, for there ahead he saw a beautiful paper-thin ballerina. And beside her stood the most handsome soldier he had seen. He had the same uniform as him, the same swarthy looks, the same granite jaw, and he, too, had been lumped with guard duty. Oh God! What a hunk! To hell with all that heteronormative shit. There was nothing like a man in uniform to melt a tin heart. Here was a man to like, to love, to lust. Here, now, and for happy ever after.

The steadfast soldier and the handsome soldier proffered toothy smiles.

The steadfast soldier and the handsome soldier gave each other slow “once-up-and-downers”.

The steadfast soldier and the handsome soldier gifted each other saucy pouts.

The steadfast soldier and the handsome soldier pointed at each other and then themselves and mouthed “You-Me-Later”.

Good God! the steadfast soldier thought, they were a perfect match. If the sexual chemistry between them was any stronger, it’d be Guy Fawkes Night.

The steadfast soldier closed his eyes, took a deep breath, steeled his nerves and whispered, ‘Happy ever after, here I come!’

But when he opened his eyes, the handsome soldier had vanished.

A crash came, and the steadfast soldier looked down and saw shards of glass scattered about the floor.

‘Mum,’ a girl’s voice shouted, ‘the ornamental mirror on the Christmas tree fell off and shattered.’

‘Noooo!’ the steadfast soldier cried. A tear trickled down his cheek, for he was doomed to spend another loveless year in the shoebox in the cupboard, crammed in with his fellow Christmas ornaments.

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