Simply Claire

The Hell of War

 

part one

 

 

Yeah, back on the Western Front is a place I will never forget. We were a large regiment, but few of us survived; Mother Nature herself took most of the men. She’s cold and harsh; no wonder she’s female.

 

Billy Jones was a close friend of mine. He kept me going through the rough times. He had been on the line for a few months before I got there, all cleanly shaven, with my hair sleeked back. He laughed at me, saying I wouldn’t stay a pretty boy for much longer. God how he was right. Billy was always right.

 

I was bunked up with him for the first night, actually every night after that we were together. We chatted long into the night about our girls back home waiting for us. Billy told me how he planned to marry his girl and start a family when he got back home. Money would be no problem, as he would go back to work in his father’s shoe factory; one day he would own it.

 

After a few hours sleep, we were abruptly woken and given our orders. We were heading down to the trenches. I was so excited and eager, like a fool.

 

I was equipped and ready to leave within ten minutes. Billy sat on a boulder puffing on a slim roll up. His fingers and teeth were stained from the tobacco. He looked up at me and forced a smile. Half an hour later, our regiment was on its way, trudging through ankle deep mud. Most of the men were new and raring to go, like me. The others marched on silently with dread in their eyes. I ploughed on with a grin stretched on my face, looking forward to seeing all this new hope and glory. Little did I know I was entering hell.

 

The rain was light and rather refreshing. Above us, the grey clouds gathered. At least the movement kept us warm. Damn it was cold. That was the last time I had felt any real type of warmth.

 

Our pace slowed down as we hunkered low heading to our destination. The air became thick and putrid. I gagged a few times.

 

Billy patted me on my shoulder, “It gets worse Jimmy boy.”

 

“What is that smell?”

 

“That’s the smell of war.”

 

“Eh?” I said like a fool.

 

“Death… dead bodies… and other things that is much worse.”

 

“What do you mean things much worse? There’s nothing worse than death and dead bodies.”

Billy laughed. “You’ll see my boy… You’ll see.”

 

His words confused me. I thought he was just winding me up; after all, I was one of the new boys. But Billy was right on that too. At least with death you’re in no more pain and you no longer suffer with visions of hell, visions that haunt you in your dreams and every waking hour. Death was the only way out.

 

A short while later we clambered through a man-made tunnel. It was pitch black. The ground was bumpy with soft patches every here and there, where our feet would sink down to our knees. We moved along, little by little, clinging onto the cold wall as if our lives depended on it. I trudged on behind Billy. I could smell his tobacco over the stench of the tunnel; at least I knew I was definitely going the right way.

 

Under foot, the ground became very uneven. I stumbled and my foot sucked into what I thought was some sort of swamp. I tried to pull my leg out, but I couldn’t. I called out for Billy.

 

“What’s up, grease lightening?” he replied.

 

“I’m stuck. My foot is caught in something.”

 

“I’m coming my fair maiden.”

 

Behind me, I heard laughter.

 

I pulled my leg. My shin scraped against something sharp. Then something climbed up my trouser leg. I panicked and slapped my leg and it fell off.

 

“Oh shit Billy! Something’s crawling up me,” I shrieked.

 

“It’s just your imagination.”

 

“I don’t think so. Something’s in here with us Billy.”

 

“It’s all right I’m coming, hold on.”

 

Behind me, I could here the other men whispering.

 

I took out a box of matches from my chest pocket and struck a match.

 

“Blow that out now, you’ll give our position away,” Billy said hastily.

 

I ignored him. Wish I had listened to him now though. I bent over shielding the match in my hands. I looked down at my foot. The ground was a dull red. I looked harder and noticed khaki coloured pieces of cloth scattered around. It took me a few seconds to realise where my foot was.

 

“Oh shit! My foot’s inside a dead man's stomach.”

 

“What?” an unfamiliar voice said beside me.

 

I repeated the words ‘oh shit’ several times. Then panic took over me.

 

“Help!” I screamed out.

 

The match burnt my finger; I dropped it and the flame died straight away. I stood there helpless in the darkness, with my foot plummeted through a dead man’s intestines. I’m not sure what happened next, but I know I had fallen, or was I pushed? My head hit against what I thought was a rock and something big with sharp claws ran across my face. I reached for the matches again and struck one. My eyes widened in terror. I lay face to face with a dead soldier. His helmet had rolled off; I must have knocked it when I fell. I stared into a grimacing face stripped of its flesh. The eyes had been devoured too. From his gaping mouth leapt a furry creature. It’s long teeth snapped at my face as it ran away into the shadows.

 

Billy knelt beside me frowning. He blew the match out, and then with his bayonet he cut my trouser leg free. He slapped my leg and pulled me up. I was still in shock. My body trembled. I stood there with my legs shaking.

 

“Come on, time to plod on,” Billy said.

 

I was about to reply when a stream of vomit exploded from my mouth.

 

“That’s it sunshine, get it up. Best to get it out of your system now.” Billy patted my back.

 

“Whose bodies are these?” I managed to ask.

 

“They’re no concern of yours.”

 

“Are they our men?”

 

“Forget about it, grease lightening.” He squeezed my arm and dragged me through the tunnel.

 

A short while later, we were making our way through a thicket of trees. We were almost there. I listened carefully; I couldn’t hear any gunshots. A strong disgusting odour lingered in the air. The smell was making me feel sick again, so I breathed through my mouth. I gagged with the first breath I took; the air tasted foul.

 

The earth underfoot was soft due to the rain. I walked on, plodding through puddles, gasping for breath. We came up to an entrance to our trench. It was bigger than I thought. The trench spread out in different directions. I crouched down low as we headed to our position.

 

The first few days weren’t too bad. We did what we had to do. The rain persisted. So did we, as we stood ankle deep in mud in the trench. The coldness was unbearable. We had no choice but to put up with it. We had to put with a lot. At first the rats made me sick, but I soon got used to them roaming around. There was no use in trying to get rid of them. As soon as one lot was gone, another group would appear from nowhere. They would swarm from nowhere throughout the dugouts. No wonder there was so much sickness around. The bastards contaminated our food supply, even though we knew they had, we still ate the food. It was either that or starve. A disease took out some of the men. I thought they were the lucky ones getting out of that forsaken shit hole. How wrong was I. One by one most of the sick died. I had heard that they died painfully; even with medication they cried out for help.

 

I woke one morning itching like mad. I raked my nails through my hair. Billy sat beside me smoking his roll up.

 

“Looks like you’ll be needing a shave,” Billy said.

 

I rubbed my chin. “I shaved yesterday. It hasn’t grown back in yet.”

 

“I didn’t mean there grease lightening.”

 

“Where?”

 

“You’ve got nits.”

 

“No I haven’t.”

 

“Then why are you scratching your head?”

 

“It’s just a bit itchy.”

 

“Get it shaved off. If you leave it the itching will get worse. Plus if the sarg notices you’ll be in trouble.”

 

I nodded my head.

 

“Here,” Billy said holding out a small wrapped parcel.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Just something to keep you going. Looks like you’re going to need it.”

 

I held the packet in my hand, a part of me wanted to tell him to shove it up his arse, but the other part knew I wanted it.

 

“Keep it safe,” Billy said. He reached out and grabbed my hand. “How long you had them?”

 

“Had what?” I replied confused.

 

“Those.”

 

I looked down at my hand. I hadn’t noticed the small red blotchy marks on my hand.

 

“Well it didn’t take you long to get them.”

 

“Get what?”

 

“Chatts.”

 

“Chatts?”

 

“When you due to the bath house next?”

 

“Not for another four days.”

 

“Report them when you go.”

 

“What are they?”

 

“You’re not very bright are you? They’re lice my son.”

 

“Where the fuck have I got them from?”

 

Billy laughed. “Take a look at where you are.”

 

By the time I made it to the bath house, I was going crazy with the itching. Every part of my body was going wild. I scrubbed as hard as I could when I washed. My skin felt a lot better. I thought bathing would be suffice. It wasn’t, I was led to another room with a few other men. The room was full of steam. We were then told to get inside vats of hot water. I plunged in. The heat was almost unbearable but the warmth was a welcome. I splashed around for about fifteen minutes, and then my uniform was returned, so I dressed. Cleanly shaven and washed. I headed back to hell.

 

Billy sat in his usual corner smoking. His face seemed thinner than usual. He forced a smile on his face. Something was wrong. I smiled back and stood beside him.

The rain started again. A shiver ran down my back.

 

“You up for a walk lad?” Billy asked.

 

“Yeah why not.”

 

He patted me on the shoulder. “Come on then, lets get your stuff.”

 

I had no idea where we were going, but I was glad to be moving. Standing around in the cold was depressing. Once on our way, I had wished that I were back at the trench. At least back there, I couldn’t see the true horror of war. What lay ahead of me still gives me nightmares…

 

           

to be continued…