Living in Australia in the time of war, Edward is shipped off; leaving Bella behind. Short story I wrote. AH. One shot. Don't kill me over any possible historical inaccuracies.
An Anzacs Tale
The year was 1915, and Edward Masen was on the last ship to Gallipoli. A heart breaking display of emotion filled his wife, Bella's face, as she hugged him goodbye. "Make sure you come back", she said through tears, hugging him even harder now. "I love you" He whispered in her ear, as he turned his back and boarded the unforgiving vessel. The immense ship was gleaming like metal in a fire. The cold, bitter wind cut through him like a knife, and the sun hung colourless in the still morning sky. He would miss his Bella, as she would miss him, but he knew he had to fight for his country.
Edward had already done some training in Egypt, but yet he still was no where near prepared for what was to come. The men waved goodbye to their adoring wives, girlfriends and fiancés, concealing their fear with masks of excitement. Once the ship left port, the men sobered up and everything was still as they sailed into the abyss.
The ship ride was sickening, unhappy men with sullen faces filled the deck. As night fell, the new soldiers became restless. Dark, mysterious shadows filled the air. In the gloom, Edward could just make out a man holding something. "Is that a picture of your wife?" He asked, looking towards the man. "Yes it is, her name is Rosalie and she is very sick. I just hope that I can make it back in time to see her darling face one last time. The two men remained silent after that.
They reached the shores just after sunrise. As they approached the mystifying, rugged land, the men did not know what to expect. None of them had ever thought they would experience something like this. Continuing on their way, they slowly came closer to their worst nightmare. A sudden rustle quickly turned into a shower of bullets, as the first brave soldier stepped onto the beach. Edward watched in horror as hundreds of brave, young men were gunned down right before his very eyes. Without delay, several more ships were sent onto the deadly shores of Gallipoli. Steep, rugged mountains loomed before them Beyond the rocky point of the cliff, the soldiers could just make out the enemy, firing as if there was no tomorrow.
For many, to many, soldiers, there was not.
Before long, they had run out of food. As they only had enough nourishment for two days, they went for many more without anything to keep them going. Surviving on rations alone for the first two days was not very satisfying. They also did not have any clean drinking water, and many soldiers became sick within mere days of arriving. It took a while to get used to getting up at dawn, to the sound of a lonely bugle. It was also hard to get used to the cramped conditions of the trenches, and the scarce food and water source. Though no one ever complained, for they all were in the same boat.
Summer was unbearable in the trenches. The soldiers risked sunburn, heat stroke and the ever present concern of disease. Not to mention the smell of the dead. Most of the bodies had already been buried, but the soldiers could still smell the rotting flesh of their fallen comrades. Whether the odour was real, or just a figment of their imagination, the solders never really knew. Edward had never really been a sociable man, preferring more to keep to himself. But after a few months, he began to grow lonely, and he put in a substantial effort to make friends. Sharing stories and experiences were a common way to pass the time in the trenches. Making friends had its disadvantages though; many of Edward's new friends came to fall. Edward had never shot a man before, previous to the war of course. But after a few weeks of fighting, it became a natural instinct.
Winter was even worse than the summer. To Edward's great relief, his Bella had packed had packed some extra clothes for him, therefore he neither got frostbite nor exposure. He was one of the lucky ones. In one corner of his trench stood a man, nursing his frost bitten foot. Quite unaware of Edward, the poor man continued to tend to his foot. "You should really get that checked out", Edward said to the man. "It'll be ok" The man replied. "I'll just put my boot back on; I'd rather see my dying wife with a foot than without one. I'm not letting them amputate!" In that instant, Edward realized that this was the same man he had met on the boat. The strange silence fell over them again, both contemplating the risks of amputation.
The wretched was raged on an on. Soaking rain pelted down from the heavens, only to flood the trenches and turn them into mud. Never again would he join the army. Never again would the propaganda ads and posters consume and engulf him. "Never, ever again" He thought bitterly. If he had of realized what the war was actually like, he would have thought twice about signing up.
For days on end, frantic calls filled the air on the battlefield. Bombs and bullets streaked the sky with blood. It was as if it was judgement day, the end of the world, and he was the last man standing.
Rising early, as he did every morning before the bugle sounded. He cleaned his gun and prepared for the next treacherous battle. Edward listened intently to his surroundings, only to find that no one yet was awake. The suffocating stench of the dead filled the air still. Maggots and flies fed off helpless men as they slept. It was 7.30am, still two hours until the deadly battle. Edward checked his body for injuries and bugs; he was clean this morning. Quite often he would find a mosquito feeding on his blood, or a fly, ready to lay its filthy maggots. Cautiously, he slipped out of the trench, and slowly but surely, he made his way towards the beach.
Edward had just gotten back to the trench when the lonesome bugle began. He pretended he had just woken up and was getting ready to fight. Edward did this because he did not want anyone to find out that he went to the beach, if he woke up early enough, as they might have reported him to General Whitlock. Whitlock was a kind man, but his duties always came first. Time passed slowly as he watched his friends getting ready for the bloody combat ahead. He had grown a liking to a man named Emmett McCarty. Edward had met Emmett on the boat, and then again in the trench. Emmett was a few years older than Edward, but he always acted as if he was a child. Emmett was Edward's best friend. He had listened to his stories, and then told a few of his own. He was delighted that Emmett was in the same trench as him, it made the war a little bit more bearable for Edward.
He heard the sound of the bugle once more, signalling that it was time to fight. Edward climbed out of the dirty, smelly trench. Emmett was standing next to him, also ready to fight. Patiently, they waited for the signal. Edward had fought on the Western Front, and the Lone Pine Battlefield. As Edward moved towards the front, he was thinking of nothing. He did not think when he fought- he just killed. As Edward set off, his thoughts were filled with his loving wife, Bella's face.
Without warning, a shot rang out; and the fierce some battle began.
With amazing skill, Edward and Emmett fought side by side. Several more steps brought Edward to a Turkish soldier. "Bloody Turk", Edward thought as he fired. Taking careful aim, he shot the man in the chest. He did not feel nauseated when he killed anymore, by then he was used to it. In the distance, Edward could see a Turkish man holding a rifle, taking aim at Emmett. "Emmett!" Edward yelled as he pushed his friend out of harms way, placing himself in the path of the firing bullet. "Fuck!" Edward yelled as the bullet sliced through him like a dagger. He gasped as he fell to the ground with a thud. Edward started to black out very slowly, as he saw Simpson and his donkey walking towards him.
Edward woke up in a medical bed. Eventually, a strange elfin like nurse with spiky black hair and blood stained clothes came to check on him. "You were one of the lucky ones" the nurse remarked. "Thank god I'm alright", Edward thought with relief. "You cannot continue to fight I'm afraid" the pixie nurse said suddenly. "You will have to be sent home" after her stunning words, she walked away. Edward was speechless. Excitement mounted as it all began to sink in. Springing out of bed, he jumped for joy with a yelp. Because of his actions, he collapsed on the bed, screaming in agony.
Every now and then, a doctor or two walked past his bed, but none came towards him for quite some time. A man named Carlisle Cullen finally came to see him. "Now Edward" Doctor Carlisle stated. "It will be about one week until we will ship you out of here. The bullet hit you square in the ribs, and it became lodged in one of them. You're very lucky to be alive, Mr Masen". The doctor added. "You will be sent off along with thirty other men next Tuesday. "I'm finally going home, Edward thought.
The ship ride back was not nearly as bad as the ship ride there- it was almost enjoyable. Excited men with joyful faces were all that met the eye. Edward thought about Bella for most of the trip, and the rest of the trip he thought of Emmett. The ship arrived at the harbor with a soft thump. Ecstatic men ran from where the ship was at port to meet their lovers. Edward sprinted as fast as he could to meet his lovely Isabella. He found her there with a child in her arms, his child.
Two months later.
Edward stirred from his nap as he heard a bang at the door. "The papers here" Edward yelled as he went outside to fetch it. "Anzac's Escape!' the headline screeched at him. As Edward read the article, he collapsed on the couch with relief. Edward pondered the thought of it all being over for quite some time. "It's finally over" he said, kissing his child Renesmee and his wife both on the forehead.
"It's finally, bloody over!"