I watch mesmerized by the faltering flames of a dying fire. I picture the quizzical expression that must be etched across my tattered face. Desperately, I struggle to shake myself from this trance that has consumed me, but its shackles are tight and I can no longer break free. Defeated, I sit and watch the fire. Playfully, the great flames flicker towards me, they move with an elegancy a sophistication that I yearn to match. It dawns on me that the warmth of the fire cannot reach me in the secluded depths of my mental despair. Determined, I try to reach out for the flames, I hunger for their embrace to rid me of the cold that plagues my bones. But my arms will not obey, they do not move as I bid them.
My gaze returns to the fire; I gradually notice a change in the flames. They come so close, again, I try to touch them but they mislead me, dancing away. They mock me now as if aware of the internal battle I fight. At the very thought of fight the memories flood back to me. They rush over me like an oncoming wave, I try to flee them but to no avail. My eyes dart left and right to discover I’m surrounded by people. They all wear similar expressions, eyes half closed gazing into the fire, they are dressed in a uniform that seems so familiar but I can’t quite place it. All filthy, mud caked upon their mournful faces. Some have dried blood on them some fresh, if it’s their own or someone else’s I cannot tell. Panic stricken I try to call out, to plea for help, but the ability to do so seems to have deserted me.
I linger close to breaking point, though I’m only marginally aware. I desperately try to win this mental battle but the weight of my despair will not be budged. Disorientated thoughts of home enter my mind. I see my little girl Lacy upon a swing, her mother pushing her laughing all the while. For them both I know I must not give in. A surge of strength runs through me, I now know how to break free. I have to face what has happened. I let myself go and find myself back at the start, where it all began.
I watch John raise his head back and look to the clear blue sky. I notice his lips move slightly as they send a silent prayer. I look around and see more and more of my brothers doing the same thing. I contemplate sending a prayer myself, a wish for protection, but I haven’t once yet and I decide it best not too start now. Big Mike turns to me, his usual cock-sure smile missing. He plants a great hand on my shoulder. I notice a look in his face I have never seen before. It takes me a second to register that it's fear.
We stare across the battlefield all too aware of what’s to come. In the far distance we see their numbers lined up, they march towards us at an agonisingly slow pace. I wish they would hurry, the wait is killing me. Thankfully the order out that we are to meet them in the field, the soft clicks and clatters of men checking their weapons ring around me. Other than that there is an eerie silence. A strong bottle of liquor is passed amongst the men. I take a long drag. I let it sit in my mouth then ever so slowly allow it to slide down my throat. It burns my insides, I picture a forest set up in flames and imagine that happening inside me. I look at my brothers with renewed vigor. I catch eyes with John and he nods, I hear Big Mike roar something incoherent beside me. And then we are all shouting, screaming at the top of our voices, I wonder how much of it makes sense but it helps all the same. I hear myself shouting for my wife and child, I hear myself curse the gods and what they have put us through.
I’m running. Big Mike and John beside me. I hear John fire into the distance and realize I should probably do the same. I lift my treasured Enfield rifle to my shoulder and release a few rounds. The kick of the rifle crashes into my shoulder. Then it hits me, I’m no longer afraid. In the madness of the battle my fear forgotten I lift my rifle now picking targets as the enemy come in range. I can no longer pick out individual sounds, there is just noise, the noise of bullets rushing through the air. I sense bullets coming close but I keep running. I then hear a noise I can interpret. A scream from Big Mike beside me, time slows as I watch helpless as two bullets crash into his chest. I almost stop to help him but I know I cant. With deft accuracy from such a range only one thing could be the cause of Big Mikes death.
I scream, scream so loud surely my brothers can hear me. But they cant. Powerlessly I shout sniper at the top of my voice, no one hears. John is still beside me, the best shot in our squadron he is focused only on firing, reloading and firing again. I scan desperately for cover and run for it, a ditch in the ground where a bomb had landed. I motion for John to follow and he finally notices, I run and jump landing face down in the ditch but safe for a moment. I turn to see John sprinting towards me. He is close when they hit him; his determined sprinting face is replaced by one of sheer shock. The bullet catches him low in the stomach. His face turns a ghostly pale as he crumbles to his knees. I climb to my feet to drag him into cover, I call to him to tell him I’m coming that he will be ok when another bullet strikes him in the face, he is unrecognizable to me now. I stumble back down into the ditch. Exhausted I close my eyes.
I’m back at the fire now. It’s all but out. I feel hot salty tears rush down my face. I command my hands to wipe them they obey at last. I will never forget my fallen brothers. But I must move on and live my life. I look to the sky, sending a silent thanks.
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