The Great War League
Chapter1
The Earth heaved as the war machines sent their destructive force into its crust. Shell after shell blasted with thunderous roaring, hurling massive dark waves of dirt, mud, wood, wire and human tissue into the air. This erupted matter would shower down on the soldiers waiting in the shallow trenches for their turn to attack.
Paul Baumer was one of the many soldiers blocking his ears, unable to endure the terrible, splitting sound of the ironclad monstrosities blasting the enemy to oblivion. The war had cost him all his friends and sunk him into a deep depression; now science was producing these war machines and other innovations to extend The Great War. A new era of mass killing had started; now his sadness will amplify and spread throughout the warring countries.
Germany's new war machines were sort of like tanks; though a complex system of tracks had made these vehicles much more maneuverable than anything the British or French produced. These iron monstrosities could roll across no man's land easily and swiftly; maneuvering over and around shell holes, ditches and bogs while busting through barbed wire defences.
The enemy could almost suddenly find themselves within range of these machines deadly arsenal. The turret was the same size as any other tank but the military science division had imbued it with over twice the firepower of its allied counterparts; thus making it a versatile piece of mobile artillery. Mortar shells were also fired from the vehicles' top with adjustable force; quite handy for clearing enemy trenches. A machine gun also spat death from a slit in the iron chassis.
Enemy artillery would occasionally score a hit on these vehicles crippling them and grenades thrown from the trenches did their share of the damage. It was firm policy to never let these new weapons fall into enemy hands, lest they be copied and turned against German forces.
Paul looked at his fellow soldiers to see if they expected to be ordered into the fray, to take the enemy trenches or at least to secure the crippled war machines. Tjaden gave him a brief return look then turned to Ernst Birkholz for private discussion. Virtually the only one of Paul's buddies to survive the war so far, Tjaden had drifted away to become more Ernst's friend; there was no current rapport between him and Paul.
Alfred Matzerath seemed to be eager to get in and seize the ground, since the enemy would have been softened by the war machines. Andreas Kragler often turned his head back towards the Fatherland, his mind was clearly on going home. Hans Hubermann had a glum dreary look on his face, he did not like this escalation of the war any more than Paul. Playing an accordion was Hans' way of coping with the negativity this conflict brought; but that would be useless amidst this thunderous barrage.
When the war machines went silent in unison, apart from sporadic machine gun firing, Captain Martin Hessler moved down the trench. Everyone was expecting the whistle signal to attack but he ordered all to stand down.
"We have something special for the enemy." He said.
Hessler looked at an operative bearing a peculiar whistle and received a nod that meant full readiness. Picking up his trench wire telephone the proud German officer gave the orders to his secondary artillery. What ensued was a mortar barrage that hit the area just short of the enemy trench, but not with explosive shells, but thick red gas, that created an opaque curtain of red mist in front of the trench.
Next Captain Hessler gave a hand signal to the operative who blew his whistle. Neither Paul nor the others could hear any noise. All present, including the whistle blower ducked down into the trenches.
Grunting and growling noises quickly filled the area. Paul realised what was happening, something big he had heard of only through rumours; a quick peek over the trench gave horrid confirmation of that hearsay. The war machines were only one innovation changing Germany's fortunes; the other was masses of synthetic humanoid soldiers rushing the enemy. "Homunculi" they were called and the sight of them was horrible; they were misshapen freaks, human only in that they had two arms and two legs, their facial organs were hideously jumbled though the mouth was prominent in each one with gashing sharp jaws. White hair seemed to be placed randomly on their bodies and not always on the scalp; the skin was as pale as chalk. They moved fast but their gait and steps were more apelike than human.
Paul and any other peekers bobbed down into trench as the homunculi jumped over into no man's land and rushed towards the red gas curtain, some stopped to gloat at the German soldiers but in accordance with firm programming, left them alone to attack the enemy.
"They are such ugly bastards." Uttered Andreas.
"They are yours and Germany's salvation." Said Hessler.
Everyone rushed to look over the top after the last homunculus passed; they bypassed the war machines, ran into the red gas curtain and jumped into the enemy trench. The same was happening a mile to the left and right, the homunculi attacked by the thousands. Paul heard the screams of those soldiers unfortunate to be in the trench.
Modest breezes cleared the gas curtain. The whistle blower followed a signal from Hessler to rush within proximity of the attacked position then blow his apparently silent instrument again. The homonculi then climbed out of that trench and rushed towards the next enemy emplacement.
Captain Hessler gave the order for all soldiers to take the first trench. Alfred was first up and over, Paul and the others followed. There was no resistance while crossing No Man's Land, their work seemed already done. Hundreds of soldiers crossed over encountering next to no resistance.
Paul and his fellow troops jumped into the pre-taken trench. It had been damaged by the constant pounding from war machines; its retaining walls reduced to splinters and its depth reduced by half from shifting and showering dirt. What Paul found so shocking though was the state of the slain enemy soldiers. Some had their limbs ripped off, others had multiple chunks of flesh torn from their bodies and there was those who were left a pile of skin blood and bones as if they were picked up and smashed against the ground. The homunculi clearly took no prisoners.
A search of all dorms and alcoves ensued. It was during this activity that a hidden enemy soldier fired his rifle into Alfred Matzerath when he opened the trench lavatory door to inspect it. A panicked fusilier bolted out of the alcove to sprint down the trench, he ran into Tjaden who neatly drove his bayonet into the runner. The sheer panic on the bolter's face told everyone that he had seen the carnage wrought by the homunculi and hid in abject fear.
Alfred Matzerath was not hurt bad, the bullet nicked his side; he would have to make his way to the field hospital though. Andreas Kragler helped the wounded soldier out of the trench to meet with the stretcher bearers.
From here Paul could see the next battle. A homunculus seized an enemy and sunk those prominent jaws into his throat biting out several pounds of skin and organs. Another enemy was overpowered by one of the horrors, belted to the ground and then had his shirt and flesh ripped from his torso. One allied soldier had three of the monsters on him, he screamed as each grabbed a limb and bodily tore him apart.
Several German soldiers who observed this massacre dropped to the trench floor and vomited out the meagre contents of their stomachs, others just turned away in shocked disbelief. Paul sunk his head to the ground and felt his depression intensify.
Bullets were fired into the homunculi but very few were killed. They were formed in biological culture vats, so the location of their crucial organs was random. One could take a bullet in the chest but would still pounce on the rifleman and slay him gaudily, then several of those in the area without any compromise to his movements. Some even took head shots and continued to attack. A mounted machine gun pumped a volley into a homunculus' chest, the monster survived long enough to grab the fusilier and break his neck.
Some homonculi did fall. A lucky shot or bayonet stab would hit them in an unlikely spot like a shoulder, hip or limb and destroy a randomly placed crucial organ. In most cases though, a shot would be ineffective and gunman would be set upon by his savage target. Those who sunk a bayonet into a homunculus would, in most cases, have the rifle knocked aside with a fierce swipe; whether the blade was still in the antagonists torso or not; a gory and quick reprisal would be exacted on the soldier.
The ground became saturated in blood.
Enemy sniper fire from a hill ahead began to rain down on the victorious homunculi. They took the shots but expressed only irritation at the bullet wounds they were taking; only a few were slain by the storm of bullets.
Captain Martin Hessler briefly considered sending the monsters after the snipers but ordered the functioning war machines forward. The homunculi's work was done, Hessler told the whistle man to recall them; once the signal was given they moved back, bound across the trenches despite whatever wounds they were carrying and went to the area from which they came.
A large backpack was adorned by Hessler's adjutant, when he turned his back on the officer it allowed Hessler to use it. This was a new wireless communicator; a set of earphones, a microphone, an antenna; all allowed Hessler to give orders to each war machine crew simultaneously. They had just arrived after sappers had employed makeshift bridges to get them over the trenches. Hessler relayed his coded orders.
A mighty barrage of turret fire ensued. Paul and other soldiers blocked their ears and peeked over the trench to view the destruction. It was the hill that the snipers were firing from, it had become the war machines' anvil. Much of the earth that constituted the hill was hurled up into the air along with weapons and body parts of those who bore them. Dirt rained into the trench along with torn human flesh. A severed arm landed a few feet from Paul.
This thunderous hammering lasted for about twenty minutes before Hessler gave the order to desist. The silence was short lived; the Captain ordered the soldiers to take the ground the homunculi cleared. Paul, Tjaden, Ernst, Hans, Andreas and all other soldiers climbed out of the trench and ran to the designated ground.
There wasn't an enemy soldier left alive to fight, the homunculi had done their work for them; the carnage was so gory, it brought more revulsion than a sense of victory. That which was done to the unfortunate soldiers seemed to violate the rules of war. A few homunculi were left behind, being too wounded to follow the recall. No humanitarian aid was offered to them; no one dared go near them; they had standing orders not to help them anyway. The whistle blower arrived on the scene, he blew a particular tune through his instrument and the wounded monsters lulled into a peaceful sleep.
"How come we can't hear that?" Demanded Hans Hubermann.
"This sound is very different from that which your accordion makes, it has been designed to be inaudible to human ears." Explained the whistle blower. "The homunculi ears are different. They hear it and are programmed to act in accordance with select tunes."
"But if you can't hear it, how can you play select tunes."
"My ears have been scientifically augmented." The whistle blower began to show everyone his ear implant until Captain Hessler cut in and demanded everyone to man the newly taken trench.
"You have work to do I believe?" He said to the whistle blower.
As the soldiers took their places in the trench, the whistle blower took out a syringe and injected each remaining homunculi. Paul then realised why neither the medics nor stretcher bearers helped the synthetic horrors. They were abundant and expendable; the injections not only terminated them but initiated a process of slow bodily decomposition. Only those, among the recalled, with minor wounds are given any treatment.
Captain Hessler used the cable phone to contact Field HQ. He reported success on current military objectives and a bouyant demeanor showed he liked what he was being told in turn. A request to extend his gains by taking the hill ahead was forwarded but left for HQ to decide.
The proud officer put down the phone and addressed his men.
"This is a proud moment for us. All military objectives have been achieved; enemy artillery has been seized, trenches taken, defences smashed. Soon we will take towns, railways, channel ports and then Paris. After France many other countries will fall to this newly endowed army. This is only the beginning of our triumph. The scientists Germany has employed have provided us with the means to turn the war in our favour and extend it into a new era of military conquest. The Kaiser's war machines; our war machines will roll across Europe and forever change the maps into areas of conquest."
Paul noted that he didn't mention the homunculi, he clearly favoured the war machines as the providers of this new era.
"For now we hold here until we get orders to take that hill." He saluted then observed all soldiers returned the gesture.
Tjaden approached Paul. "Keep your head down Paul. There may be surviving snipers in that hill."
Paul looked at his former friend but was unable to respond; the thought of this war extending to what sounded like an eternity and in the horrible fashion he had just witnessed made his worsening depression unmanageable. He turned away. Tjaden went back to Ernst's side.
Twisted by war, that's what everything was. Through his saddened delirium, Paul could not make out a thing that wasn't mangled by the war; the hill, the trees, the earth and the bodies. Every sight made him more miserable; except that butterfly. The fluttering insect was bright blue with patches of orange and yellow. It landed just outside the trench; Paul knew then how to put his depression aside, he needed to focus on the beautiful creature and nothing else. He had to get closer. Paul climbed out of the trench and approached the butterfly slowly on his hands and knees; when he got close, the creature spread its wings and those magnificent colors dominated Paul's senses; he could now shut out all other visions and imagine himself in a beautiful land. His face smiled, it was his first in a long time, he reached out to touch the butterfly, the ecstasy of this moment was heavenly; not even the sound and feeling of a sniper's bullet tearing through his chest could turn him away. No, this was good; now this exquisite moment will last for ever.