A Soldier's Life For Me

          As the numbers changed and 8:00 AM glowed red on the screen, the alarm clock suddenly kicked into a frenzy and began blaring as loud as its little speakers could manage, NEEE-NEEE-NEEE, NEEEEEE-NEEEEEE-NEEEE---, until Richard’s hand slammed down hard on the snooze button to silence the beast, but the damage was done: his sweet sleep was over, and with a loud groan he rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes in the dark while slowly dragging his feet across the room toward the light switch by the dresser. Instinctively, a result of countless repetitions, he closed his eyes tight as he turned the lights on, his free hand already pulling open the drawer with the day’s change of clothes, and by force of habit alone he pulled on his khaki gear as he continued to squint as his eyes adjusted slowly.
          Yawning, he slipped his feet into his shoes as he walked towards the door, and by the time he exited his room out into the brightly illuminated hallway, his eyes had adjusted to the light and he picked up his rifle just as he stepped into the line of marching soldiers that passed by his room, bouncing gingerly on his feet side by side with his comrades and brothers in arms as they shifted to a jog. For several miles, they trotted through the long, high hall way, basking in the sunlight that flooded in through the glass ceiling; periodically, usually every half mile or so, another hall way crossed the main one either side, but most were now abandoned as the years had passed and the war had waned. Now, they just kept them in the furthest branches because it meant that they would get a healthy work out every day on their way to the front.
          As they made their way along, a distant thudding slowly became audible, periodically shaking the ground, but they pushed on as if it were nothing, accustomed to the small tremors. Closer still to the main trench, shots began to be heard, and they passed a similarly long line of soldiers heading in the other direction, their shift over for the day. Soon, not only the shots fired by their own men rang in the hallway, loud yet distant PANGs of bullets striking metal resonated in their ears, long since acclimated to the cacophony of war.
          Splitting up at last, each man headed to his station, but Richard was fortunate enough to have a spot immediately to the left of his hallway, the reward for dedicated service; some of his less fortunate comrades, mostly the newest arrivals, had several more miles to go before they could actually start shooting. As he climbed atop the one, large step, he greeted his neighbor pleasantly; though Richard had a later shift, he spent all but two hours of that shift next to Horace, and alone after that since the shift after Horace’s had yet to be filled since its former occupant retired after 15 years of distinguished service in the field.
          “Horace! How do you do mate! Good to have you back here at last; the last couple of weeks have been a bore with you away. How was your rear leave?” Richard loaded the clip bullet by bullet from the box at his station, grateful that the Army Staff had been overruled and the government had decided to replace all their old bolt-action rifles with the new semi-automatic modelsa.
          “Ah well, y’know how it is, nice to get away from the war and enjoy a little bit of the civilian life. I was even happy to see the wife if y’can believe that!” Richard and Horace both began to laugh, lazily pulling the trigger, almost as an afterthoughtb. Richard thought for a moment, remembering when he had last been on rear leave, and he decided that it had been sufficiently long ago that he was entitled to request one again; after all, 3 months of intense combat is a long time.
          “So tell me, how was the actual trip? I’ve heard some good things about the new tram line they installed, and I’ve even been told that it comes all the way up to the front line! That can’t possibly be true though, is it?” Richard leaned closer to his friend, as the PANG of bullets suddenly got louder; the enemy’s main shift was also just beginning.
          “It’s true, it’s true. And aye, it’s wonderful I tell you, it really shows they spent a whole lot of money on itc, but after all, we soldiers fighting the wars, well, we deserve it I reckon,” Horace smiled, a great, white smile full of joy, then continued, “You’ve gotta see the seats they have in there, finest leather I’ve ever seen man! And the service, the service is impeccable y’know, not a complaint, no sir, no complaints at all!”
          A loud whistle further along the trench alerted them that the left-tenant was making his daily rounds to inspect the troops on the front and to make sure they were still mentally fit for combat; mostly, he just yelled at them for whatever reason he could think of, but as long as you keep your head down and keep firing, eventually he’ll move on. Horace and Richard looked at each other with wicked grins as he approached, then rested their cheeks on their rifles and carefully took aim at the thin gray line in the horizon that was the opposing trench. They squeezed the trigger nonchalantly all the same, stopping periodically to change or refills clips, but it was not long before the left-tenant had already stopped, screamed and sped off, and they were then back to their same uninterested fighting of before.
          “Wow, is it really that luxurious?” Richard whistled to emphasize his awe, but he also playfully punched Horace in the shoulder, to emphasize his envy. “So tell me, what did you do during your time off?”
          “First thing first, I visited a few fine establishments in Ville, the town that’s grown around the main exit of the trenches, way in the rear. After that, I decided to drop by the family’s house; my mum was right pleased to see me again after so long. And finally, I spent most of my leave at the beach; the weather is fine on the coast this time of year y’know,” Horace smiled again, wider than before, as he thought back to his leave. Then, the loudspeakers came online and a thick, aristocratic voice spoke up, for the first time in well over a year that it had happened.
          “Gentlemen, we have great news! The government has, in a wonderful act of common sense, accepted our requests to send further reinforcements to the front for our new offensived, and as a result, all soldiers currently on the front will receive an extra week of leave, to start tomorrow, so that you may all be well rested for when we begin our Glorious Attack,” the intercom growled for an instant and went silent, as a wave of cheers rolled along the trenches in celebration of the announced leave. Horace smiled most of all, because the announcement had not mentioned any kind of condition for the leave. Despite that, Richard couldn’t be envious of his friend, because unlike most of his brave companions, he had a girl waiting for him at Ville: Alice. Ahh, Alice, soon you will be in my arms once more, he thought, sighing longingly as he thought of her curly blonde hair, shimmering in the summer sun as they pranced in the green fields and cool groves.
          “Gentlemen, a further announcement, those veterans who have served our nation valiantly for more than 5 years will also, after the coming offensive, be given a 6 month leave, which, if the offensive is successful, would become a permanent retirement with special pension for those who request it. Thank you, heroes of the Republic,” when the intercom growled silent once more, Richard stood in shock; originally meant to keep their morale high in the early days of the New War following years of Bloody War, it quickly became a way for the generals to announce the unfortunate martyrs who died defending freedom and liberty. It had not been used for that purpose for nigh on 7 years though, and on that occasion it was to announce that a brave and determined soldier had died of old age rather than retiring; after that, it had been used to announced the periodic budget cuts or budget increases, as the government at home changed from month to month and adjusted the military’s budget accordingly.
          What surprised him more was what they had announced: after 10 years of service, Richard would be glad to give it all up, all the butchery and horror of it, and finally settle down with his beloved Alice. His own smile broadened and he could hardly think of anything else, and he was caught unaware by the left-tenant who was making his rounds again, simply squeezing the trigger.
          “Sergeant Richard! What do you think you’re paid to do, lounge around and waste ammunition? No! You are here to fight a war, and I will see you at attention, aiming carefully to ensure that our taxpayer’s money is not wasted by lazy soldiers who don’t have enough discipline to at least look down their barrels as they pull the trigger! Now, I want to see you fire off an entire clip flawlessly, and I will not leave until I am satisfied!” Shouting with spittle spraying Richard in the face, Left-tenant Connard, part of the New France group of ultra-conservative officers that seemed to have swept into power amongst the general staff, stood just below him and stared intently as Richard reloaded his clip. One by one, the bullets clicked into place, and with the magazine full once more, he pushed it into his rifle, set it against the cement fortifications that sheltered him from the merciless bullets of t heir enemies, and took careful aim at the sliver of gray in the horizon where their despicable would-be killers did the samee, and he squeezed off one shot, then another, then another, with methodical precision and flawless technique, until after the 5 shot and the PANG of the last magazine being expelled, Connard finally nodded grimly and stormed off, shouting at his next nearest neighbor for seemingly no reason before disappearing into the officer’s hall a few feet away.
          When Connard had gone, Richard glared at Horace, who was now bent over laughing, his gun rested against the cement wall haphazardly, with tears streaming down his eyes. In between gasping breaths, he finally managed, “Ah haha I can’t believe it, that’s priceless haha, it’s always so much {i]fun to see that Connard get into his condescending rage, so much fun!” Horace could no longer help it, and he fell off the step with a thud, rolling around laughing, wiping away the tears that continued to moisten his cheek. It was a few minutes before he quieted, but to Richard it felt like an eternity all the same.
          “It may be funny for you to watch, but it’s never any fun for me because I’m always the one who he actually rages condescendingly at!” Richard sighed and shook his head, but in reality he was holding back laughter as he pictured Connard’s face, red as a beet, screaming at the other soldiers nearby. It was an amusing idea to be sure, but as he thought of all the times he was on the receiving end of a Connard Shower as they called it, his nascent smile turned to a grimace, until Horace slapped him on the shoulder, saying;
          “Ah it’s alright Rich, look at it this way, you won’t have to deal with him for more than another week!” Horace’s face was still red and swollen from the laughter and the tears, but his smile was broad and warm, and Richard could hardly help start laughing himself, which led to Horace keeling over once again, and soon they were both sitting down, their backs against the wall that gave to the outside world and their guns rested lazily on their laps. Suddenly, Richard’s humor was gone entirely, and in a moment of odd clarity, it occurred to him, as if some divine powerf whispered into his ear, “Why do we keep fighting the war again?”
          Horace jumped, surprised by the sudden question which was out of place amongst veterans; some rookies occasionally asked the same question, but there it was easy to give them the official answer, because they had no way to know otherwise. Now however, Horace had no idea what to tell his friend, until all of a sudden Richard continued, answering his own question as if someone else had asked it.
          “It’s not for territory, and it’s not for resources, it was agreed under the Common Responsible Aggression Pact that borders would henceforth never move again, and the Americans have gotten to producing anything in the world imaginable now, or at least so they say. It also can’t be for religion or ideology, considering our allies, so why do we fight? Well… I suppose we fight to win,” Horace blushed at hearing it, because they all thought it, putting it to words was ill luckg. Horace simply shook his head, embarrassed by his friend’s crass and unpatriotic question, and a dangerous one to boot after the governments banned condemning the war in the Sensible Hysteria and Ignorance Treaty. The Democratic Union of Magnificent Bastardsh considered repealing it at one point, but they were at a loss as to how exactly it worked, so they simply left it as it was. The next few hours were spent in relative silence, only the sounds of brutal war to perturb their thoughts, and when Horace marched away with hardly a look at his neighbor, Richard hardly seemed to notice as his somber thoughts continued, soon is not soon enough to see my Alice… I’ll simply take my leave to coincide with the end of the free leave, and I’ll never have to return here again…
          He continued firing his gun absentmindedly, aiming less and less frequently as the last light of the day dimmed. A loud, monotone bell clanged, signaling the end of the day shift, and Richard took out his clip and pulled out the last bullets as he prepared to step down and begin jogging back to his room to start packing. As he turned, a bullet tore through his nape, and he stumbled forward, a stub and red goo where his head used to be. The loudspeakers growled inaudibly a few moments later as they announced his death.
          Fritz got a medal.

END

Footnotes
a  The Generals had complained that it would lead to “excessive waste of ammunition, as soldiers would no longer need to re-aim after every shot with the convenience of simply pulling the trigger over and over”; op-ed in issue CLVI of the Times, by Marshall Warth Adam, titled “Preserving tradition in the military.” Marshall Warth Adam would later resign in disgust at the government’s decision; nobody noticed until he returned a few days later requesting to be reinstated.
b  Clearly, the generals were right
c  $35,000,000,000, but hey, who’s counting…
d  Get more people to shoot at the same time
e  At that very moment, on the other side of no-man’s land exactly opposite Richard and Connard, Private Fritz was being yelled at by Lieutenant Stressman for the very same reason; however, they had received their rifles several months ago.
f  Otherwise known as the Author
g  Coincidentally, that poor old veteran who had died not too long ago spoke ill of the war as well.
h  “Magnificent Bastards” was used in 1920 to refer to the last group of generals to order a charge across no-man’s land. The politicians didn’t get it