“The guns, the guns, always the BLOODY FUCKING GUNS!” Tommy was shouting at the top of his lungs rocking back and forth in the mud. Almost before he could finish the sentence two other soldiers grabbed him and dragged him into the hallway dug and boxed into the hillside. His mind had finally quit on him, dragged into the catacombs perhaps he would regain his senses, if he couldn’t, well then there was a good chance he wouldn’t be making it home one way or another. There were no guns today, and the quiet brought the unnerving sense of unease in the trench line. As I looked around at the fresh faces, reinforcing our insignificant section of earth and those with lifeless eyes who had been here too long, I knew there would be more Tommys to come, many more.
It was here we would hold, entrenched in our final position to protect this patch of ground we found significant at the time. Miles of trench spat out like lightning from a central nucleus, twisting, turning like dozens of snakes being birthed from an egg. I decided in the quiet I would take a stroll. Lighting my cigarette I turned towards the outermost wall.
The absence of guns gave way to the chatter of soldiers, some playing cards, some praying, and others staring at nothing. As gun shots echoed across the valley, I came upon a soldier sitting in a cut out section of wall, cradling his sniper rifle, arms crossed, staring at the wall behind him.
“Ay mate you alright?”, I said tapping the man on his arm. His eyes only shifted downward to his boots.
“Can’t you hear it? There’s someone out there, screaming, I know where they are. They’ve been crying out for days, but I don’t think I can do it. I can’t do it.”
I put my hand on his rifle, it was then he finally looked up at me. He was only a teenager, just a boy, drafted to face horrors the likes of which this world was unprepared for. I pulled another cigarette from my pocket and lit it, placing it between the boys lips and nudging him off his perch. I don’t know if he smoked it or not as I peered down the scope into utter hell. “Where?”
“One hundred meters straight out, just past the tangled mess of barbwire and -“
“I see him.” I said calmly. Through the small piece of glass I could see one of our enemy, lying on the ground amidst masses of melted steel and bombed our craters, covered in so much mud it was as if the Earth was trying to reclaim him before his time. It was then I realized he had taken a bullet to the gut, deep into No-Man’s Land. No one was coming to save him. The drum of my heartbeat rose until it blocked all sound from my ears, vision narrowing through the scope. I let out a deep breath and squeezed the trigger, unleashing destruction packed in a brass casing. The bullet pierced his skull, blood and brain matter bright against the dark mud. I stepped off the perch and faced the boy. “This is mercy, not a killing,” I said flatly, “At least it makes it easier that way.”
I returned to my position, clearing my head of the boy and enemy soldier. As I turned the last corner I could hear a ruckus ensuing. Tommy had broken free of his caretakers and bounded back outside crying “The GUNS! The GUNS!,” as I tackled him onto the dirty wooden floor. It felt like hours while I poured every ounce of strength into getting Tommy under control wrestling in the dirt. Tommy had me on my back, pinned with unnatural strength when suddenly he stopped as if a switch had been thrown. He closed his eyes, and raised his face towards the sky, a smile splitting his cheeks. With arms outstretched Tommy opened his eyes and whispered “the guns”.
Before I could realize what was happening the tell tale whistle of an incoming round pierced the otherwise silence. “TAKE COVER”, someone spat out an instant before the round made it’s impact sending earth, wood, and men flying in every direction. I threw my hands over my face in a vague hope to protect it against debris. My head was swimming as the world came back into motion. Tommy had been launched clear off me by the force of the impact, and I rose quickly to see the damage. The round had impacted several yards away, right in the middle of a card game. There are no words to describe seeing the remains of several men strewn about, disfigured so far that is no longer clear what belongs to who.
I peered over the wall, in the distance plumes of fire burst into life, signaling our incoming doom. The low growl of the artillery cannons reaching us long after the shot had been fired. I looked behind as saw Tommy seated, his back against the trench wall. He was smiling, he his eyes were closed, and he was quiet. I let out a deep breath as the sound of several whistles drew near, Tommy had found his peace, and soon so would the rest of us.