More experiences from Sherman. I hope you enjoy it. The first part of the title "Après la bataille" means "After the battle" in French. I just thought it sounded cool. haha. I just want to thank everyone for reviewing this story, I didn't expect any of it to be truthful because the first chapter I did (when this was only one chapter long) I got hardly any feedback, not that little feedback was a huge concern of mine, nevertheless I'm glad people like it and have picked up on it, thankyou so much! Anyway on with the story.
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Après la bataille: Silence. Sun. Sleep. Night. Noise.
It was over. The battle was done, but not quite won. Sherman looked around he saw some fallen comrades amongst the mass devastation. His friend Bill who he had ridden into this battle with was alright luckily, this was a massive relief to Sherman. He wouldn't have been able to handle it if Bill hadn't survived.
Sherman looked towards the sky, it looked peaceful - the sun was setting. It symbolised the end to the battle, the end to the pain and suffering of the fallen, yet it was unaware of the devastation which lay below. The sun shone in a radiant orange glow over the field where not so long ago the battle had been fought. While Sherman was musing he was interrupted by his commander's voice calling, "Come on everyone, let's go! Moving out!" This brought Sherman back to reality so he gave Goldie a nudge, she complied.
Within seconds they were off, back to camp where they could get some sleep. Sherman began to wonder what sleep was. These days it was a rare commodity so those who were lucky enough to have some were envied by those who didn't. The men and their horses continued relentlessly along the trail back to camp. They were almost at the end of the trail. The trail was only there because of the countless number of carts, horses and men who had trudged along it, it was not created by men for a purpose to serve it was chance. Chance because the men knew now where they were going, unlike previously when man and horse had becoming dislodged from the group and spent hours trying to find their way back.
Arriving at the camp each cavalry officer dismounted and led their horses into their make shift shelters. The men gave their horses a rub down and gave them feed and placed blankets over them, it was going to be a cold night.
Night. Night in this area, in this war was often either too soft, still and quiet or it would be unbearable. Noise of distant battles would plague the minds of the men, battles either happening at that moment and could be physically heard or the noise of battles which had been fought and still ran threw the men's minds. Sherman wondered which was worse. He had always thought he had a good head screwed on his shoulders but he sometimes wondered. Was the imaginative worse than the real? He couldn't answer that at the moment. He was too tired. Sleep was what he needed and that was a question he could answer.
During the night, after everyone had drifted off to sleep, they were awoken by noise. Loud noise. Loud real noise. The silence and peacefulness was shattered at that moment.
What did you think? Please review.