The Soldier

A gun shot split through the air over my head. I lay in the crudely dug trench, nervously picking at a bread and butter sandwich. My friend, Jimmy, sat across from me. His face was pale and fear was reflected in his eyes. War was not a game for him, nor any of us. I still remembered from my childhood playing war games and I felt dread knowing how lightly we took it.

Now, barely sixteen, I was fighting for real. I served my country without choice, having bee taken away from my mother and sister. Fighting here was supposedly honoring my late father, who had died from an injury from the previous war several months before I was born.

Jimmy nudged me. “Are you alright?” I nodded. He said something to me, but his words were muffled by a cannon blast. I lay down in the trench, as did my companion. As another cannon was shot towards us, I jumped a little and held my gun tighter. I glanced at Jimmy. His brow was dripping with beads of sweat.

A pause in the shooting gave way to screams. There was nothing, as I quickly learned, that was more chilling than human screams. Just the thought froze my blood.

There was not anything I wanted more at that moment than to be home, to yet again be able to joke and play, to feel the comfort of safety, and most of all, to be able to ditch the burden of that gun. There had been many moments similar to this, but this one was the worst. I didn’t want to be here.

It once was every boy’s dream to be able to fight in the war. I was no different. Posters plastered on the sides of buildings proclaimed of doing my duty for Canada and being a hero. It was wrong. Men and women died, they became murders and lost friends.

There was fifteen minutes of silence. Not that we were ordered quiet, but all of us were so scared. Finally, one man shouted something inaudible. That sparked a quiet murmur among the soldiers. I could see them sadly picking up their guns and heaving themselves out of the small trench. I was too weak to move. I looked at Jimmy. He said to me “It’s not going to last much longer”. I didn’t know which he meant; the war or my life?

“Hang in there” Jimmy said. He nudged me, and we both knew our strength was failing. But I forced a smile. I wiped the tears from my eyes. I held my gun and pulled myself onto the soft ground.

It was a jerk to reality. It was as if someone had turned the volume on high. People shouted and screamed, and cried. Jimmy and I ran towards the eastern side of the field, dodging bullets and leaping over barbed wire. It seemed the clouds were bloody, for the air was thick with gun smoke and dusk was fast approaching.

I stood the farthest to the back of the swarm of men. The Germans charged towards us. For one fast moment, all of us soldier’s lives were held in suspense. Those few seconds seemed in slow motion. All I saw was Jimmy beside me and the enemy moving closer.

Some ran for the trenches. Others saw the uselessness and just ran as fast as they could. Most of us stayed and fought. Not that I was trying to be brave I was shaking something awful. My heart raced, and with it, the men raced forwards. I pressed my aimed gun against my shoulder. I fired once, twice, and thrice. A bullet whizzed through the air and missed me by centimeters.

Is this hell? I asked myself. Or was this a sick nightmare? The blood was real, the pain unbearable, yet I couldn’t believe this was what I was destined for. It sickened me to see humans be so cruel. We were all like lambs to be butchered.

But I had a friend.

With this thought, I ran to Jimmy. A German had his gun pointed straight at Jimmy’s chest. “Jim!” I yelled. He didn’t hear me. In that second, I knew what to do. I ran in front of Jimmy, a look of terror on his face. I pulled the trigger on my gun. The bullet hit the German’s temple, but only seconds after his own trigger was released. I wasn’t scared. It was only a millisecond in which I shielded Jimmy. He realized what was happening and tried to move me. But it was useless. The bullet penetrated my stomach with such a force that I had not known. The pain was overwhelming, and my knees gave out. Jimmy ran to my side. His face was sweaty, but not all the moisture came from perspiration.

I never thought I’d die this way, although I was a hero. I had always thought I’d be old, with my family around me. But Jimmy was my family to me. “Don’t go on me yet” He said. I smiled and said “I’m here.” He shook his head. “You can’t go.” It was hard to speak now.

“When the war ends”, he said, “I’ll tell your ma and everyone-” He found it difficult to speak. “That you’re gone. You saved me” I nodded and said crying, “Jim, I’m going home”