A lone tree

A rolling thunder. It rained down on us and them. Its ferocity tearing large chunks of the land, throwing it and anybody who was near it in the air. It’s deafening explosions casting a ghastly light across the landscape. A land pockmarked with craters and stumps of a once great forest lay around us. The forest now nothing more than deadly splinters that would be sent flying as they exploded.

A single tree still stood. Standing brave against the fire. Nothing had hit it, no shell, no splinter, no shrapnel. It stood tall defying the enemy. Fighting against the odds, just like us.

The artillery came to a halt. Men moved around continuing with their uninterrupted routine. It had become a constant routine of our lives. We did not fear the thunder anymore. Originally we had ran to shelter at the first whistle of a shell and when the flares went up signifying an oncoming barrage. We knew we would not get out of here soon. We learned to cope with the daily life of battle. We were not suicidal, we still feared death, but we knew that the meagre protection of our supposed ‘shelters’ would help us no more than if in the trench moving around. And why stop efficiency?

I stood down from my firing step sure that there would be no attack. For now. We no longer needed a whistle, that had originally signalled the end of our shift on watch. Routine had taken over our pitiful lives. I handed the position over to trooper Cormack. A large man, strong, a cheerful man who always lightened the mood. His black hear lay messy on his head. I slapped him on the back, a greeting between friends. In a normal life we would have never met, never known each other, never heard each other, never been friends. Me a from London, now living of the forest, and him from Dublin a armourer.

My feet squelched in the mud which covered duckboards layering the floor of the trenches. My feet following the exact steps I took every day. My feet taking me to my bunk, my little niche in the wall where all I had to look forward to was a meal of mush and disgusting warm drink. However it was heaven after being on watch. I fell asleep shortly , the occasional shout and small arms fire my lullaby.

Alone. By myself. Everyone’s dead. Inger. Cormack. Rayne. Dead! Their bodies torn and shredded open by bayonets and small arms fire spilling their vile innards across the grounds. Their eyes staring back at me blankly with no life. Willing, begging me to join them. It hit me like a hurricane, the silence. So loud so overpowering. Slowly I popped by head out over the trench line. What I saw, the very sight of it shocked me. The tree, the single lone tree. Nothing more now than a mere splinter. Destroyed. It’s last stand against the enemy, its ultimate death at the hands of the enemy. Just like us.

I turned away from the ghastly sight. Frozen with fear as I turned around. A man, dirty drenched in blood and mud. His or whatever this daemon was face was covered in pain and scars. Shallow breathing filled his sickly lungs. A sudden stab of pain shot, burning through my body. A bayonet thrust into my stomach, ripping out my guts. Falling to the floor from the overwhelming pain. Lying in the blood and guts as more gushed out of me drenching the ground around me with crimson. My life slowly faded, my vision blurring as I reached the end. A shadowy figure stepped into my vision. I tried with all the strength left in my body to focus my vision. As the blurs of the world aligned themselves into an image. A lasting image. The face! No longer an anonymous shadow, I could see it. It was mine.

Grasping, my wrecked lungs attempting to fill my body with air. Vision blurring again as my life faded away. Lying there stunned as my life left me. A crackling laugh from the tormentor myself followed me to my grave. Taunting my pain as much at my realisation of my attacker. It would be with me forever, if there was an afterlife. At least then I’d be with my friends.

I awoke damp with my cold sweat covering me. Nightmares, I would have called before. But now, that I am living in this nightmare I know that it wasn’t one. I started having them since it got here. How long ago that was I cannot remember I had lost track of time a long time ago. I think. It plagued me no matter what I did. I tried not sleeping but that only made it worse when I did. Nothing. I was doomed to live with it for as long as I lived. Weather that would be in many years time or today I could not say for sure all I knew was that they would stay with me forever.

I got up, peering over the top to check the tree was still there so I knew for sure I was no longer sleeping. Sure enough it was there. Standing tall and ever resilient. The cold air bit into me, realisation of the temperature suddenly hitting me. I shivered, grabbing my coat that had been my blanket while I slept. The winter time had come so suddenly. Unable to want to go back to sleep I decided to go for a walk along the trench. A rare silence and peace covered the land calming my nerves. Pristine snow lay over the ground, untouched over the land, revealing that there had been no fighting for quite awhile. I carried on down the line, up and down the slopes of the ground. No particular direction or destination just aimlessly walking.

Coming across some snow that had fallen into the trench, I stopped. Puzzled, I bent down to examine the snow. It hadn’t snowed recently judging by the clouds or lack there of and the time I’d been awake. The snow had barely melted from the salt that lined the trench floors. Standing up, I looked where trench met land. Seeing a disturbance in the snow just outside the trench that had remained unseen, while the distraction of the snow in the trench took all my attention. It would have gone unnoticed by the sentries that would surely be awake soon, but I was apt at tracking. Honing my skills before the war frequently on my farm hunting local animals for food. Now I was here, hunting men. My mind raced, heart rate rising rapidly. Maybe someone had made this recently. An enemy scout?

I looked around for any sign of him but found nothing. I quickly climbed over the trench without thought, I was in no man’s land now. I crept forward silently to study the tracks up here. What I found confused me. These were animal tracks not man made. But there were no animals around. A sudden crack of a shot rang out in the calm followed by a heavy thud. The silence carrying the crack across the land. I quickly jumped back down into the trench. Tears rolling down by cheeks as I slumped against the wall. Memories flooding back to me.

Times before the war. A small little farm, a happy family. All gone. I wonder if anything is still there. Is my family still alive? My home still standing? Or had it all been consumed by this war? Christ how long had it been. All I wished for was a time of peace, but I doubt I’d ever see peace. The memories hurting like no physical wound could.

Snapping out of my though as a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Rising up I grabbed my rifle. Taking aim at the movement, sweeping from side to side slowly. Watching, waiting for the movement to appear again. There off in the distance, a lone figure moved. Slowly, trying to go unnoticed. An enemy surely. A runner? A scout? Or a sniper? It did not matter.

Slowly following the movement, fixed through the iron sights. My finger rested on the trigger softly, waiting. My lungs filled with the cold air, as I drew a sharp breath. Exhaling half the air in my lung. My finger slowly pressed down in the trigger.

A single bullet spun out of the barrel of my rifle. Spinning across no man’s land. It spiralled through the air, whistling towards its target. Slicing through the air, as the explosion propelled it. Distance ever closing. Hitting the canteen on his leg spraying water outwards, tearing through the other side of the thin metal. Ripping through his skin and burying himself within his thigh, sending shockwaves to his brain. Forcing him to cry in pain. My hand pulling the bolt back. The hot recently used cartridge sent flying out of the rifle. The brass casing spinning madly through the air. Erratically flying as it fell to the ground, landing in the snow next to me. Pushing the bolt forward loading another shell of death into the chamber. Pressing slightly on the trigger again. Another bullet sent spiralling out as the hammer hit the shell igniting the black powder propelling it forward. Spiralling across the land, just like the previous bullet. Slicing the air as it whistled ever closer. A slight cling as metal hit metal. Tearing through the helmet, hitting the side of his head. Entering the skull tearing through the brain, exiting the other side of the skull. Finally tearing through the other side of the helmet. Burying itself in the snow behind him.

Dropping to the floor. Dead. Blood seeping out the hole in his head and thigh. There to rest for eternity away from this nightmare. On to a better place hopefully.

Breathing out the rest of the air out of my lungs. Turning into vapour in the cold morning air. Lowering my gun. Two brass cases lay next to me sunken slightly in the snow next to me.

I crept forwards, I had to reach this dead man. Something. Something compelled me forward, ignoring the danger of the risky action. Surely sentries would be swarming all over this area from the gun shots. But I had to.