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Rated: E · Short Story · War · #1564689
A story about war, from a dialogue perspective, set in a trench in WW1.
Faith and Death
-HaJames

To the wandering mind, attempting to detach itself from the current hellish situation, there always seemed something competitive about a night of shelling coupled with a thunderstorm. The crash and roar of each were a constant back and forth, each explosion attempting to outdo the other. On moments when both thunder and artillery would sound in unison the noise could be deafening. Still, after enough time on the front, the hearing of the average soldier became so damaged and accustomed to the racket that it almost faded into background noise, almost.

It was one of these particular nights of competition between man and nature that a certain group of soldiers found themselves huddling in a muddy trench. Rainwater had already risen to ankle level and it did not show any signs of letting up. The constant splatter of rain on a metal helmet could drive a man insane, but luckily for you these men were seasoned enough to take every aspect of their existence in this particular trench tonight with a grain of salt and an air of acceptance.

“Well lads, Jerry may be throwing everything he’s got at us tonight, but trust in the fact that they’re just as cold and wet as we are. Working that arty must be even more hellish then being on the receiving end of it in this weather”. Captain Matthis had been in the service for about 3 years now, longer then any of the rest. His light heartedness and humour and often been comforting to the men in his unit. Present company were his closest mates, at least the ones who still survived. Still, even he could not match the stoic-like calm of Private John. He had been in the war almost as long as Matthis and yet turned down promotion time and time again, always saying he simply wanted to do his part. When argument was offered that he might have a higher chance of survival, he simply smiled and said “God will protect me many times more then any stripe or chevron”

As Matthis, John and the others huddled together in the trench, the two observers sat quietly on the edge, watching the storm and shelling with a much better view then the soldiers below.

“They always were clever. Now they don’t even have to see who it is they are killing. Now they have almost perfected it. It is been turned into what they call ’science’” spoke the first figure, glancing leisurely from the huddled forms below him to the light show of death playing out before them.

“It is troubling. Every time they spend a half century showing promise, they spend the next half century turning back into the savages the were thousands of years ago.” The second figure was much more solemn in his vigil, about as solemn as his companion was nonchalant. They both wore the uniforms of soldiers, as it was always encouraged as a way of bonding with your charge. Their particular charge huddled with the men below them, the only one without the veiled fear behind his eyes that the others had. He had been their charge for many years and as an individual they looked on him with pride, as parents would of a child. He had not been their first charge and certainly wouldn’t be their last, and yet he had been their first charge in this time of what the humans called the ’Industrial Age’. The sunsets they used to witness over the great cities of the world were now smeared with blackened skylines due to the ever increasing number of factories. Then this war had come. War had always been something the humans had excelled at. It was their interspecies way of thinning the herd, yet this time was different. Never had there been so much distance and scope. The entire world had almost been completely transformed into a state of war, with battlefields stretching on for many miles. The new weapons of war had never been even imagined by the observers, and they had initially been in awe of those they considered beneath them.

“We never had the imagination for such devices. These machines that spew smoke and fire and death over such distance. The fliers that rain death upon those below. The steel hulks that roam the seas. The humans have achieved the ability to fight on every plane, from the land, to the seas and finally into the sky.” The words of the 2nd observer were combined with an empty look, as he possessed vivid memories of seeing every one of these inventions in action, and the destruction they could spread.

“You are too harsh brother. I find it fascinating. They are constantly thinking and creating. Progress is progress. Besides, there are enough of them. The forces of nature causes animals to fight each other when there are too many, why should the humans be any different? They are simply thinning the herd, just as they always have.”

“Do you not see how this is different? They are not the same as the animals of the forests. They have turned war into an industry, just as they have done with everything else. You saw how quickly they turned from making pots and pans to making bullets? At one moment they were at peace and then everything was death.” Almost as if to make the speakers point a shell landed in the trench far down the line. Screams and cries could be heard. While some died off quickly, others continued. They both had watched up close the impact of one of those shells. Burning hot fragments of steel tore through flesh as if it was paper. The 2nd observer had always been slightly concerned at the interest his companion always showed in the aftermath of these ’accurate’ hits.

“That is their way brother. They change quickly. They adapt. They innovate. They will continue to do so. A half century from now, war will be even more terrible. A full century from now it will be more terrible then that. It is their way. We should see this and admire it. This war has lasted only a couple of years. Remember before, they would spend almost half a century simply fighting one war. If war is more terrible, it was drive them from it. They will be able to ’thin the herd’ so much in such a short time that they will have much longer periods of peace” The 1st observer was convinced of his argument, as it made logical sense. His companion was silent for some time before speaking up.

“What you say may be true. If war continues to become more terrible and the amount of death that can be dealt becomes easier and quicker, then maybe the humans will eventually have more peace. Does the end really justify the means? What if they outpace themselves? What if their ability to destroy becomes so powerful that they destroy themselves in the process?” His companion was beginning to look frustrated.

“That will not happen. We protect our charges. By making them the kind of people who will do good in the world we allow the balance to be maintained. That is our way. We influence them to develop the ability to create. What they do with that ability is up to them. We cannot interfere.” Their charge in question still remained below them, giving strength to his companions through his show of calm.

“I only hope we do enough brother. I did not mean to suggest we should stray from our way. You and I will care for our charge, and the next one after that, as best we can. I suppose it is really all we can do” He remained quiet after that, only occasionally glancing down at their charge, while continuing to watch the hellish show before them. His companion nodded.

“Indeed. Besides, as much as the humans may have advanced in the science of dealing death, I do not see how it could get much worse then this.” The pair did not speak again, but chose to simply watch as the thunder and shelling continued long into the night.
© Copyright 2009 HaJames (ahilmi at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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