Three days later

The last three days had been great for Wally, Hans, Moe and Aiden with their new officer. They had all grown to like him, especially because he had a good sense of humour in telling the group funny stories of when he used to be a builder in Birmingham and he had had more than his fair share of incidents that had occurred whilst he was there, one of the funniest being when he and another four workers were building a house and there had been no co-ordination in trying to carefully put in a few valuable pieces of the house's soon-to-be new owner and as a result, Stanley ended up knocking a cabinet down a flight of stairs where he had left it and told one of the other workers to take it downstairs into the front room. The owner of the house was not at all pleased with his cabinet broken by a group of 'fools' as he called them and had promised them that he would never use them again, something which the group were not really bothered about.

Today, Stanley was sitting in the dugout with Wally and Hans talking with them. Moe and Aiden were outside on sentry duty. Bad luck for them as it was pouring with rain. The soft pitter patter of the rain hitting the wood outside filled the air but it was drowned out by the three's conversation. Hans was explaining about what he had done before the war.

"After I was done at school, I just got a job as a blacksmith's with my friend," he told Stanley. "Was working there from fourteen until I decided to join the army at the outbreak of war,"

"Ah, that's some life," Stanley commented as he stretched out his arms above his head. When he was done, he looked at Wally. "What about you, Wally?" he asked.

"Oh, well, me and my brother were working on our farm just outside Barham," Wally replied. "When war was declared we joined up happily like everyone else. We thought it was going to be fun, but I regret coming out here now. And I bet he does as well,"

"Oh, you got a brother?" Stanley asked him. "Is here as well?"

"No, he's up in Ypres," Wally answered.

"Oh," Stanley's voice sounded a little sympathetic. Then again, who would not if two brothers were separated in war and both were wondering if they would see the other again. "Well, I'm sure he's alright, Wally."

Wally smiled a little and nodded. "I just hope he's okay,"

Just then, the sound of rushing feet drew the three's looks towards the dugout entrance. Moe entered, looking a little shocked.

"Guys!" he exclaimed. "I've just heard from another officer! There's a battle going on up at Ypres!"

At this point, silence fell between them and Stanley, Moe and Hans turned to look at Wally, who sat there with disbelief, unable to comprehend what he had just heard, unable to believe that his worst fear had become a reality.

Meanwhile, up at Ypres

BOOM! BOOM!

Two shells exploded on the ground of a war torn wasteland akin to that at the Somme and everywhere else up and down the western front. Bits of trees were scattered everywhere along with barbed wire, bits of weapons and, occasionally, parts of soldiers, both allied and German, that had been unfortunate enough to be hit and literally blown apart by shells.

Hiding in a trench near the remains of a destroyed village called Gravenstafel, Hal was ducking do with his hands over his ears trying to block out the noise. There were about forty other soldiers in the trench with him, either copying him or looking out over the parapet of the trench across the wasteland in front of them, waiting for the imminent attack by the Germans.

Hal, like all his friends, had changed much as well since he arrived at the front. Although he was seventeen, he looked like he was in his late twenties. Bags hung under his eyes from the lack of sleep and he had many small bruises over his face from the constant fighting and the event when the German and British attack waves had launched trench raids at the same time and they ended up colliding in No Man's Land about four weeks ago. Bloody hand-to-hand fighting followed and Hal had ended up getting a black eye when a German, who was about as young as he was, punched him in the face and knocked him to the ground. Only quick thinking from another British soldier saved Hal from getting a bayonet to the chest. That small but very fierce battle had affected him ever since.

BOOM! Another shell burst just ten or so feet from the trench. Further down the trench behind Hal, a scream filled the air, indicating that another soldier had been hit by shrapnel.

"Bloody Hell!" one of the soldiers in front of Hal hissed. "The Jerries are really putting it on us today,"

"The Germans'll be 'ere soon," another piped up.

"Well, aren't the Frenchies and their colonial boys still alive?" another soldier asked.

"From what I've heard, they're still fighting hard but they won't last,"

"PASSER! PASSER!"

Hal and a few other soldiers shot up from behind their hidden cover to look out across the wasteland and see who was shouting. What he saw was horrible.

There was a tide of men, some of them black, indicating they were African colonial troops, running towards them, all of them in French uniforms that were torn and bloodied. Some had horrible wounds and were covered with mud. They all had panicked looks on their faces and were running towards the trench as if it would save them from whatever it was they were running from.

Then, Hal's eyes rested on a French soldier who had some kind of white liquid down his front. As he got closer, he saw it looked like foam, only it was not. It was froth and among it was blood. The soldier was coughing and spluttering as he ran, ignoring the froth as it went all over his legs and even his stomach that was visible through a tear in his uniform. Even when he threw up, which was now a sickly white/yellow colour, he did not stop he just continued running, getting some of the sick on his uniform.

"PASSER!" one of the French soldiers, a black colonial soldier, yelled. He had a tear in his uniform's chest and blood was running down his arm. When he saw the British soldiers in the trench, he screamed: "PASSER! GAZ! GAZ!"

"What's he saying?" one of the soldiers asked.

"I dunno," another soldier replied.

Hal watched the tide of French men ran past the trench, shouting and yelling. Some fell over, but none of their comrades stopped to help them up.

"Oh my God!" the soldier next to Hal gasped, pointing ahead across the wasteland.

Hal and those who heard the soldier looked to where the soldier was pointing. At once, their breaths were taken from them in horror.

Coming towards them was a huge cloud of yellow/green. It stretched on for what seemed like forever in both directions and was approaching the trench very quickly as if it were an all-conquering army barrelling unchallenged over everything in It's path. And by the rate it was moving, it would be on top of them in a few moments.

"SHIT!" a soldier up the trench screamed, climbing out of their cover. "RUN! IT'S GAS!"

(Note: On Thursday 22nd, 1915, the Germans launched an attack on Ypres, which had been mostly destroyed by the fighting since late 1914, using chlorine gas on the village of Gravenstafel. The gas had caused the French, both native and colonial soldiers from North Africa, to retreat en masse. Sadly, many did not retreat in time. It is estimated that within the first ten minutes of the gas being released, at least 6,000 had died from the gas)

At once, there was a scramble as the men pushed and shoved each other in a desperate bid to get out of the trench quickly. Hal climbed out and ran towards the ruins of the destroyed village a few hundred feet away with those who had managed to get out in time. After about ten seconds, he heard screams and yells pierce the air. Looking over his shoulder brought tears to his eyes as he saw many of the soldiers he had been with just moments earlier, many of them his comrades, be swallowed up the unstoppable yellow/green cloud of gas, many of them coughing and vomiting as the gas invaded their bodies, choking the very lives out of them.

Finally, Hal reached the village and wasted no time in rushing through the rubble filled roads of what had been houses, as well as part of the road itself, in trying to find a place to get away from the gas. Finally, after several moments of frantic searching in which the shouting and yelling and screaming caused by the gas cloud grew louder with every passing second, he found the entrance to a small wine cellar wide open. He wasted no time in running into the cellar and slammed the door shut. A tiny fragment of daylight came in through a small crack in the door, lighting up the large space of darkness Hal found himself in. He looked through the hole and saw nothing but devastation wherever he looked. It was hard to see how a once beautiful village where many people lived and enjoyed their lives was now destroyed the weapons of war.

Withdrawing himself from the door, he stepped backwards until he was stopped by the wall and slid down the floor. He brought his knees up to his chest and embraced them and, with a strangled sob, buried his face within them and began to cry.

Outside the gas cloud marched onward, engulfing everything and everyone unfortunate enough to have not gotten away in time. Many had already died by this terrible weapon's power, and many more were to follow before it was over.

(Note: Despite the Germans releasing the chlorine gas and causing the French and British troops to flee en masse with their enemies in hot pursuit, the German High Command at Ypres ordered their men to halt in fear that they would overstretch themselves and expose their flanks. By the time they had regrouped, the opportunity for the Germans to take Ypres quickly and decisively, as the retreating allies had caused many breaches in the front line surrounding the town, was lost and so the battle would drag out like many conflicts had before it.)