The Somme 1916
If hell was anywhere it would be in this place. The rain never seemed to stop either, god made it rain, or the blasted Huns. When Fritz made it rain you had ample opportunity to rid yourself of the shite for good. Instead of each other, rats were our constant companions, we could almost call them friends if they didn't steal our food and generally make a nuisance of themselves. At least the little blighters were friendlier than the Huns. Bugger the rain as well I could do without. Damp, cold, it made sleep impossible, and provided ample opportunities to swear. Fuckin hell, and I thought it rained a lot at home. Worst of all was the mud, me and the lads couldn't ever get over it. Slimy, slippery, slick, there was all different kinds of it. The blasted stuff got in your boots, clothes, even your bleeding food. Miserable muck be damned. It could piss off for all I cared. God was probably a Hun because he cursed us to have to fight in the dreadful stuff. Name's Jimmie Button or James, whatever ya like not that it matters in this place.
I sat on a stool in the dugout trying to write a letter to me mum, the ruddy ink kept running because of the rain. I finally sighed and gave up tossing the paper into the quagmire of stink that was our section of the trench. My head rested in my hands. I can't even write a fuckin letter without the rain ruining it, I thought. Luckily for me there was always a distraction in my dugout, Willie Hayes. His royal pain in my arse was manning the periscope at the moment, gawking at whatever was out in No Man's Land.
I had to get his attention. Scoping up a big handful of dirty, mud I aimed for his poncho covered backside and fired at will, my throw catching him spot on. A string of colorful expletives left his mouth and he stared hateful daggers in my direction. My cheeky grin was the only thing he could see. "Are you going to stand there all day and night you bleeding sod or do I get to use the scope, hm?" He shook his head and muttered, "You are an impatient git you know that." I clapped him upside the head and spoke as if to a child, "Willie, unless there is a fuckin brothel out in No Man's Land with dancing whores it shouldn't take ya so long to look through the bloody glass at Herr Fritz." Willie simply shrugged his shoulders, mustache going up and down, he jumped off the fire step, making his way to the spot where he slept.
"God he's daft." A heavy sigh escaped my lips, but he was still a good friend. Fumbling with my poncho I pulled it over me. Rain pitter-pattered all around making it hard to hear anything. Logs had been cut and placed horizontally at the top of the trench they looked to be damp and rotten. How long have these damned things been rotten? Never mind. Even with my covering the blasted rain was still dripping in my face, wiping the drops away that were getting past my poncho, I squinted into the scope. The world became narrow and dark, impressions of barbed wire, some decomposing bodies, ever present water and shell holes. A smile came over my haggard face, no brothel? What a shame. At least that would've been interesting.
I focused my attention on the Hun trench. No sign of life, maybe they buggered off and we can all go home that would be great. Something caught my attention, a flash of grey, I froze. Fuckin Fritz was scurrying around was he? I saw, a glint of metal, bayonet? Then I heard it, a distant rumble, but it was not thunder. The rain had stopped and a very different kind of downpour was going to be above our heads soon. "Oh Jesus fucking, Mary, and Joseph!". There was already commotion in our trench, men running to and fro, our dugouts were the safest place to be in a barrage. I quickly about faced and ran my arse over to ours. Willie was already there clutching his Enfield rifle. He had curled himself into a ball, trying to make the smallest target possible. It didn't really matter the only way ya lived through a barrage was by chance.
Lady luck would hopefully be on my side today, if not, at least I wouldn't have to deal with the bleeding mud and Willie's company any longer. Several others had joined us in the dugout when the first whistling shrieks began in earnest. The ground rumbled, and shook, titans were clashing, except these were mortal men and not gods. My hearing was the first thing to go, then my bladder. A warmth spread down my brown khaki pants. I couldn't help it, barrages were terror incarnate. Everything was shaking, it felt like the earth was coming apart at the seams. Men screamed beside me but I could hear nothing. A shaking silence punctuated by a feint buzzing in the ears.
As soon as the barrage had begun it was gone, leaving behind the only dead bodies and deaf ears. Suddenly someone was grabbing us, pushing us out of our dugout and toward the fire step. Miraculously I still had my rifle with me. My hearing was buggered but my training was not. Willie by my side, we saw the devastation the bloomin barrage had wrought. The scope was gone replaced by nothing but destroyed logs, holes, and bits of metal. More pushing, I looked to my left and right, rifles were being loaded, bayonets fixed. Mine was loaded already so I pulled the 17in. blade from the scabbard on my belt and clicked it in place on the end of my rifle. The butt of the rifle firmly against my shoulder, I aimed in the direction of Fritz.
They came swiftly, bearing down on us like water on rock, a wave of men in grey. I could hear their muffled cheering. Then nothing, as thousands of rifles fired in unison drowning them out. Killing was not a joy to me, just a job that any proper git in his majesty's service could do without thinking. And kill we did. Grey turned red, men twitched, and fell, toppled, blown to pieces or cut to ribbons on razor wire. I pulled the trigger on my rifle until my shoulder hurt, and my fingers bled. A Whistle blew and we went over the top into the stinking hell that was No Man's Land. It was our turn to brave the stretch that had taken so many lives and would continue to do so.
We chased the last remaining German survivors through the blood, mud, and bodies. The razor wire had become an abattoir, death's house. The few hundred yards to the Hun trench felt like miles, my pack dug into my shoulders, legs sore, and lungs wheezing. Machine guns began to spit and they weren't ours, men in khaki brown fell in droves, mortars took still more, turning them to bloody pieces and bits of bone. Willie was still with me. Bullets whizzed, whistled, and cracked by us. Both of us fell into a shell hole, rainwater came up to our knees, amid several corpses. It was deafeningly loud, screams and the steady chatter of the Hun machine guns.
There was a machine gun right in front of us. Thrice damned Huns were doing their best to kill our lads. Fuckin bastards would be dead soon. Glancing at Willie beside me I tapped him on the helmet. He looked up, a throwing motion greeted his gaze, a nod. That was all I needed. Mill's bombs were attached to my combat webbing, taking the spherical miniature barrel out, I pulled the pin and arced the bomb into the machine gun nest. Willie threw a second after me, there was a shout, then a loud bang followed by muffled screaming. We both crawled out of the hole and charged straight for the nest. More of the lads were coming with us, keeping pace.
What we found in the nest was absolutely dreadful, a mangled, red, mess of bodies. One of the poor bastards was still alive, stomach blown open. He was weeping and shaking. I quickly put a bullet through his skull to stop the noise. The Huns may have been bastards but no one deserved go like that. There was already enough suffering. Most of the German survivors were hunted down and killed, the great lot of them had died in No Man's Land.
Willie found me quickly. He looked like he was very far away. Blood stained most of his uniform. I didn't look much better. Green eyes finally focused on me, they had a question. "Did you ever find that whorehouse you mentioned? I didn't see it in No Man's Land I would've liked to." A chuckle escaped my lips the laughter quickly turned to tears and we held one another and wept. The trench was taken.