James doesn't know who he is without the war, without his role as The Captain. When he tries to picture himself, the green of his uniform is all he sees.
He knows how he feels around Havers – Anthony – but those feelings aren't removed from the circumstances in which they met. Underneath it all, he's still a soldier in a war.
He doesn't know what more he needs to be.
There's still meaning to be found outside of looming battle (however far away it turned out to be). James is still a person without being an active soldier.
He just doesn't know how to be anything else.
But he has interests, likes, and moments of joy unrelated to the uniform that he wears like a second skin. He has his pipe, and cricket, and a deep love for music; especially that of musical theatre.
And he was never all that good at being a soldier, so why is it still what defines him?
Even thinking of himself as James feels strange when being Captain made him who he is. Made him a person worthy of being at Anthony's side, although the respect was still lacking from anyone else.
At ease, soldier, he thinks, but it does nothing to stop the debris of his rushing thoughts from leaving injury, leaving doubts.
He knows that if he were to ask, he'd be reassured that he's still a man, but he doesn’t know if that word has ever fit him as seamlessly as soldier did — as Captain does. And being a person without a clear structure in which to thrive is hard enough without examining that any closer.
Not that it stops him; his mind is a minefield, and no matter how much he watches his steps, he still has to duck, has to throw himself to the ground.
But he'll get up again, for that's what a soldier does.
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