January 23rd, 1915
When Wally had woken up that morning, he had hoped that the freezing cold weather that had hit them in the night would be gone. Unfortunately, that was not the case. The ground this morning was covered with frost, especially over the wooden boards that made up the trench floor, the mud that made up the walls and in No Man's Land was frozen solid and freezing cold for anyone to touch. The air too was part of this freezing weather that had struck the trenches with a breeze that was, although gentle, cutting through the man like a knife through warm butter. It was as if the coldness hung in the air, refusing to allow hot air into it, and all this was starting to take It's toll on the men in the trenches. Already, two men had to be taken away because their feet, black and rife with trench foot, had frozen to the point where they were almost completely blue. It was grim reminder of where the men were and what they had to endure.
What this winter had to throw at the men, who were already in terrible conditions in the trenches, was beginning to take It's toll on the men on the frontline. The Germans, who despite having better trenches, were also suffering, though, again because of their better built trenches, not as badly.
Wally, who was sitting on the mud seat with an overcoat, that looked more like some kind of vest, was rubbing his hands together as hard as he could and breathing into them trying to get them warm. It was cold. He had been shivering in his sleep through the night, and he was not the only one who was feeling the effects of the cold. Hans had wrapped up in an overcoat, that was about as thin as the one Wally was wearing, and even had a scarf wrapped around his neck and yet he was still shivering, Moe had woken up with a cold head and a headache to add to it and Gomer, who was staying in a dugout in the long section of trench that led to the rear trenches, had lit up a candle to warm his hands, which had been blown out twice by the cold breeze. Even Adam with his apparent bags of energy was unable to keep still for even a second and was constantly moving himself to keep warm.
A cough, followed by a shiver, drew Wally's attention to look up the trench. Moe was walking towards him, rubbing his hands against each other to try and create some heat to keep them warm. He was shivering as well, so much that Wally could hear his teeth chattering.
"Y-you al-right?" he asked Wally.
"Y-yes," he replied, also shivering a little. "Oh God, I just hope this cold lifts up soon,"
"Same 'ere,"
Moe sat down next to him and took out a small box and opened it up to reveal a pack of matches.
"You got a candle or a bit of paper?" he asked Wally, who shook his head in reply. He doubted a bit of paper would last to keep them warm for long and his candle was broken on Christmas Eve when he had thrown dirt into Adam's face.
A shot sounded out from somewhere down the trench, followed by a moment of quietness before another shot, though more distant and probably coming from the German trenches, filled the air again. Then, silence fell across No Man's Land once more.
"You guys alright?"
Wally and Moe looked down the trench to follow where the voice had come from. Standing in front of them was a medium heighted and large soldier with a small black moustache just visible on his face. He reached into his breast pocket and took out a small case and opened it to reveal a few cigarettes.
"You two want one?" he asked as he took one.
Moe took one but Wally declined. Moe, with his cigarette held between his teeth, tried to light a match but the flame would not ignite. The soldier chuckled slightly.
"You won't get it doing that," he said to Moe. He took the cigarette from Moe's lips and a small bit of string from his side pocket and tied the cigarette to the top of his rifle. "This is an easier way," he said to Moe.
With Wally and Moe watching with wide eyes, like schoolchildren being shown something amazing, the soldier raised the tip of his rifle above the parapet. Not even a second passed before a shot sounded out and hit the cigarette, lighting it. The soldier lowered his weapon and untied the string and handed the now lit cigarette back to Moe.
"There you go," he said.
He repeated the same thing to his cigarette and he took a puff and blew it out into the air.
"Ah, just the thing ya need to warm your 'eart," he said happily. "Well, see ya' lads," and with that, he walked off past the two down the trench, disappearing behind a bend. Moe and Wally just looked at each other.
"Well, that was weird," Wally said.
"Yep," Moe replied. He grunted as he stood up and took a puff from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "Well, at least I can have a fag. I'll see you later, Wally,"
Wally nodded and watched as is friend walked past him back into the dugout. He sighed and stood up.
Maybe I'll go and see Eve later tonight he thought hopefully.
He and Eve had been regularly meeting with each other outside the hospital over the past few weeks. He had last seen her a few nights ago when she was given a break from tending to the wounded. For some reason, he really liked seeing her and especially enjoyed being with her. To him, she was a really good friend. She was nice, pretty and helpful and she felt the same way being with him.
He could not help but think… Well, what if it went further than being just friends. They were meeting up with each other and they really like each other. So what if this did go further into a sort of…relationship-
"WATCH OUT! GRENADE!"
Next thing Wally knew, something hit him on the head and landed on the trench floor next to his foot. He looked down. His breath was stolen from him, he throat went dry and his heart thumped madly like a mad drummer against his chest.
It was a grenade…and it had landed right next to him.
"Wally!" a voice hissed at him from the dugout. It was Moe. "Get! Away! From! It!"
He tried to but the fear of this device that could certainly kill him more or less straight away seemed to hold him like it had some kind of invisible hand that had grabbed It's nearest victim and was planning on taking him with it as it exploded. He was too scared to move, or even breathe.
Five seconds went past. Wally's shut tightly and waited for the explosion to happen and take his life. Ten seconds. Where was the explosion? Twelve seconds, surely that was long enough. Wally slowly opened his eye and looked down at the grenade. It was still there!
What the…? Why hasn't it detonated? Wally mentally asked himself as he knelt down.
"Wally, what are you doing? Leave it!" Moe hissed.
Wally ignored him and picked up the grenade, though he did slowly just in case any quick movement would set the thing off. As he stood up with it, taking a deep breath when the grenade wobbled in his hand, he realised that it felt quite light. Usually, grenades would feel a bit heavy but this one was not. Why?
Then, he noticed that the top of the grenade was a little loose. Gently, he took it off and went wide-eyed at what he saw.
Cigarettes, about ten of them! Wally could not believe it. He had just received a load of cigarettes in a faulty grenade…that was from the German trenches. Wow! This must be something they had wanted to send over.
"Bloody Hell!" a voice behind him exclaimed.
William and a few other soldiers walked over to Wally, crowding round him. Moe came out of the dugout and joined them.
"How the Hell did that get over 'ere?" one of the soldiers next to William asked.
"The Huns threw it over," another soldier answered. He looked over in the direction of the German trenches with shock filled eyes. "I never expected that," he said.
William sighed. "Well, we can't let 'em go to waste. So…" he reached out a hand and took one of the cigarettes from the grenade. "Anyone go' a light?" he asked.
"I'll do it," Moe said, taking the cigarette from William.
He was going to try out that method of lighting a cigarette the way that soldier showed him. He took out his bayonet and a bit of string, tied the cigarette to the end of his bayonet and walked over to the mud seat and held his bayonet's end high above the parapet. Another shot rolled out across No Man's Land. Not even a second passed before the cigarette was hit.
"Nice one, Moe!" William said in an annoyed tone.
Moe's way of lighting the cigarette for William had not turned out as he had hoped. Instead of the end of the cigarette being lit, half of it had been shot off. William shook his head and took another cigarette from the grenade, this time keeping it from Moe so as not to repeat his failed trick, and Wally started offering them to the other soldiers.
Wait a minute he mentally said to himself as he finished handing out the cigarettes, leaving only two left. If they sent us some, we may as well send some back.
A smile crept onto his face. The Germans had given them something to enjoy in a device that could have well and truly killed him. He may as well send it back with a few cigarettes in return. Only problem was; he needed to find some cigarettes.
Wait! Moe or Hans would have some! Great! Wally walked past two of the soldiers into the dugout and over to Hans' bed near the doorway in the top left corner. He had a small tin of cigarettes under his pillow, which Wally knew about when he had offered him and Moe one when Adam was out in another part of the trench with Gomer. He walked over to Hans' bed and moved his small pillow, which everyone in the dugout had and they were very uncomfortable, to reveal a small metal case. Wally took it in his hand and opened it to reveal about fifteen cigarettes. Wally took about ten of them and closed the tin and placed it back under Han's pillow. He placed the cigarettes into the grenade and put the top back on and walked out of the dugout.
He was stopped at the dugout entrance by someone.
"What is the meaning of this?"
It was Gomer. Wally just glared at him and pushed past.
"It's none of your business," he said to him.
Gomer gritted his teeth in anger and grabbed Wally by the arm and pulled him over to him.
"You're starting to get on my nerves!" he hissed dangerously. "Now I'm going to ask you again; what is the meaning of this? Why do you have a grenade filled with cigarettes in your hand?"
"Who's got cigarettes in a grenade?" one of the soldiers asked, having overhead the conversation and attracting the attention of the other soldiers who gathered round Wally and Gomer.
"Have they sent over another load?" William asked.
"No they haven't!" Wally replied, pulling his arm out of Gomer's hand. "I'm sending some back,"
The other soldiers looked at each other, but they were not shocked. On the contrary, they actually thought it was good idea. The Germans had sent over some of their cigarettes so the British would send some of theirs back as a thank you gift in return.
Gomer, though, was less than please. In fact, he was furious. He grabbed Wally and pushed him up against the wall of the trench next to the dugout.
"Now you listen to me, you berk!" he said. "I won't tolerate our soldiers being friends with the Boche! Now give me that grenade!" He held out a hand for the grenade, but Wally did not give it to him. "Fine, I'll take it myself!" he said when Wally did not place the grenade in his hand.
He grabbed it and tried pulling it out of Wally's grasp.
Suddenly, Moe and two of the soldiers grabbed Gomer and pulled him away from Wally, throwing him onto the mud seat. Wally thanked them and stood up on the mud seat, though keeping his head low in case any German sniper that was about saw him, and, with all his might, threw the grenade into the air towards the German lines. He then stepped down from the mud seat onto the trench floor, only to be greeted by Gomer's fury filled eyes.
"You've really done it this time, Wallace," he said. "I can't believe you being friends with the Germans!" he looked around at the rest of the group as if to include them in this as well. "I can't believe any of you!" he said. "You think that the Germans are our friends. Well, if you like 'em so much then go bloody join them!"
"Why don't you bugger off!" one of the soldiers said to Gomer. "Go pick on somebody else!"
Gomer rounded on him, looking like he was going to throw a punch at the soldier, but he did not. He just glared at the soldier before he stormed off, pushing past William, into the long section of the trench.
"Well, that was eventful," Wally said.
The other soldier nodded in agreement and went back to their duties, though enjoying the cigarettes the Germans had sent over. He smiled a little as he looked over at the German trenches.
"I hope they enjoy them," he muttered under his breath.
Author note
I would like to thank and dedicate this chapter to Smiler Marsh (1897-2005) who said in an interview that a faulty German grenade with cigarettes tied around the sides was thrown into his trench and he said that the next day he sent the faulty grenade back over with some English cigarettes, to which he proudly remarked at the end of the interview "I hope they enjoyed them."