A Winner-less War
Sienna Pilati
The heavy rain ran down the side of the hefty, beige sandbags, creating a small puddle beneath Tom’s foot. The heat from the cigarette hanging out of his mouth was the only fragment of warmth Tom could feel. He quickly scribbled in his diary as horrific images of his past day filled his head, all he could think about was the rain and how it would flood everything with no mercy. The overhead bombs painted flames and shrapnel into the sky and the constant, ferocious sound of gunfire resonated in his ears, consuming all of Tom’s thoughts. His eyes were heavy and tired after the long days on the battlefield and with very little description he wrote.
The heavy rain ran down the side of the hefty, beige sandbags, creating a small puddle beneath Tom’s foot. The heat from the cigarette hanging out of his mouth was the only fragment of warmth Tom could feel. He quickly scribbled in his diary as horrific images of his past day filled his head, all he could think about was the rain and how it would flood everything with no mercy. The overhead bombs painted flames and shrapnel into the sky and the constant, ferocious sound of gunfire resonated in his ears, consuming all of Tom’s thoughts. His eyes were heavy and tired after the long days on the battlefield and with very little description he wrote.
“1917, 2nd Thursday August
“1917, 2nd Thursday August
Rained pretty heavily all day long, what with mud inches deep and a few big guns booming all day one does not feel too much at home.”
Rained pretty heavily all day long, what with mud inches deep and a few big guns booming all day one does not feel too much at home.”
Tom had only a splinter of energy left as he placed his diary under the sandbag, safe enough for the night. He contemplated whether he should have another cigarette or not but decided he should try and get some rest.
Tom had only a splinter of energy left as he placed his diary under the sandbag, safe enough for the night. He contemplated whether he should have another cigarette or not but decided he should try and get some rest.
Tom was a measly 18 year-old. He had deep, brown, pots of honey-eyes. Eyes that were once fierce and strong, now had grown tired and weary from the explicit sights he had been cursed with on the battlefields. His pants were a little too big for him, and his whole uniform hung off him, like a coat that had been flung onto a hat stand after a long day at work. His hair was a chestnut colour with a slight curl at the ends and was usually well groomed but lately had been neglected. Tom had been excited for war, now all he could think of was returning home. He missed his family and like many of the other soldiers, he missed the feeling of warmth, security and love.
Tom was a measly 18 year-old. He had deep, brown, pots of honey-eyes. Eyes that were once fierce and strong, now had grown tired and weary from the explicit sights he had been cursed with on the battlefields. His pants were a little too big for him, and his whole uniform hung off him, like a coat that had been flung onto a hat stand after a long day at work. His hair was a chestnut colour with a slight curl at the ends and was usually well groomed but lately had been neglected. Tom had been excited for war, now all he could think of was returning home. He missed his family and like many of the other soldiers, he missed the feeling of warmth, security and love.
Delivering ammunition to the batteries of guns and cannons was all Tom did all day, and it was very draining. Riding past dead men and horses all day burnt depressing pictures into his mind, and knowing that their families would never see the men again, nearly made him cry. Weeks of tragedy and loss had taken a huge toll on Tom, and he thought about his home. His mum’s scones and dinners that made his heart warm and his fathers stories that made his belly hurt from laughter. He was tired but he had to do one thing first. He peeled away the sandbag that was protecting his diary. He hadn’t written for days and his hand was shaking. His leather-bound diary sat on his lap waiting to be opened, it’s weakened leather spine creased from all the bending. It’s thin pages, delicately attached and could fly of with the wind. He looked at his diary and it looked back, awaiting its purpose.
Delivering ammunition to the batteries of guns and cannons was all Tom did all day, and it was very draining. Riding past dead men and horses all day burnt depressing pictures into his mind, and knowing that their families would never see the men again, nearly made him cry. Weeks of tragedy and loss had taken a huge toll on Tom, and he thought about his home. His mum’s scones and dinners that made his heart warm and his fathers stories that made his belly hurt from laughter. He was tired but he had to do one thing first. He peeled away the sandbag that was protecting his diary. He hadn’t written for days and his hand was shaking. His leather-bound diary sat on his lap waiting to be opened, it’s weakened leather spine creased from all the bending. It’s thin pages, delicately attached and could fly of with the wind. He looked at his diary and it looked back, awaiting its purpose.
“1917, 1st Monday October
“1917, 1st Monday October
Had a trip to the guns last night packing ammunition. Saw some awful sights. Horses and men blown to atoms. Being a perfect moonlight one could see a deal more than he wished to. Fritz very active with his bombs about our camp.”
Had a trip to the guns last night packing ammunition. Saw some awful sights. Horses and men blown to atoms. Being a perfect moonlight one could see a deal more than he wished to. Fritz very active with his bombs about our camp.”
He tucked the book under the same sandbag and patted another one to fit his head. He lay stiff on a wooden plank and thought about how his life had changed so much in less than a year. He thought about all the friends he’d met. He thought about all the friends he’d lost. He thought about how he’d lost himself, his innocence and his dreams. They had all been swept away in this evil game that they called war. A tight lump swelled in the back of Tom’s throat as he realised how everything had changed but it was too late to cry so he turned over and just closed his eyes.
He tucked the book under the same sandbag and patted another one to fit his head. He lay stiff on a wooden plank and thought about how his life had changed so much in less than a year. He thought about all the friends he’d met. He thought about all the friends he’d lost. He thought about how he’d lost himself, his innocence and his dreams. They had all been swept away in this evil game that they called war. A tight lump swelled in the back of Tom’s throat as he realised how everything had changed but it was too late to cry so he turned over and just closed his eyes.
A familiar bugle sound swept throughout the trenches waking Tom immediately, reminding him of his job here and how he was fighting for his country. “I feel different.” Tom thought as he sat down for breakfast and it wasn’t the dry porridge that he had been living off. No, it was more the feeling of nerves buzzing through his body. It was the feeling that something might happen, something big.
A familiar bugle sound swept throughout the trenches waking Tom immediately, reminding him of his job here and how he was fighting for his country. “I feel different.” Tom thought as he sat down for breakfast and it wasn’t the dry porridge that he had been living off. No, it was more the feeling of nerves buzzing through his body. It was the feeling that something might happen, something big.
The day went on as normal for the first couple for hours in the trenches and delivering ammunition, when around mid-day Tom was ordered to go with Foster and Meridith to 113 Howitzer battery to pack ammunition. As the men rode closer they saw fellow mates running back for their lives, their fine uniforms stained with horrible memories from their time on the battlefront. They were yelling at them to not go ahead.
The day went on as normal for the first couple for hours in the trenches and delivering ammunition, when around mid-day Tom was ordered to go with Foster and Meridith to 113 Howitzer battery to pack ammunition. As the men rode closer they saw fellow mates running back for their lives, their fine uniforms stained with horrible memories from their time on the battlefront. They were yelling at them to not go ahead.
“Oi! It’s not safe! Turn around!” one of them shouted as he fumbled to catch his hat from falling off his head. Orders were orders and Tom had no choice, cautiously, the men trudged ahead on the sodden road towards the battery.
“Oi! It’s not safe! Turn around!” one of them shouted as he fumbled to catch his hat from falling off his head. Orders were orders and Tom had no choice, cautiously, the men trudged ahead on the sodden road towards the battery.
They slowed down as they neared. Tom looked around. There was nothing there. Guns had been abandoned, a crate of ammunition was all that was left. A shallow ditch was to the right and the men jumped of their horses, holding them by the reins. As they approached the ditch a foul smell blew up with the wind. It was the stench of death laying lifelessly alone forever. A man. An ally. A friend. Mr Gatcliffe of the 49th battery lay dead in a pile of his own blood and stench.
They slowed down as they neared. Tom looked around. There was nothing there. Guns had been abandoned, a crate of ammunition was all that was left. A shallow ditch was to the right and the men jumped of their horses, holding them by the reins. As they approached the ditch a foul smell blew up with the wind. It was the stench of death laying lifelessly alone forever. A man. An ally. A friend. Mr Gatcliffe of the 49th battery lay dead in a pile of his own blood and stench.
As they were looking down shrapnel filled the sky, staining it in oranges and crimsons. A blazing inferno of metal and heat fell down towards them. The noise was heard last and the bone-shaking thunder burst their ears. The men jumped into the pit landing on Mr Gatcliffe. Another blast threw the horses into the ditch, killing them instantly and pushing the men further into the earth.
As they were looking down shrapnel filled the sky, staining it in oranges and crimsons. A blazing inferno of metal and heat fell down towards them. The noise was heard last and the bone-shaking thunder burst their ears. The men jumped into the pit landing on Mr Gatcliffe. Another blast threw the horses into the ditch, killing them instantly and pushing the men further into the earth.
They all laid there. Still. Broken. Dead.
They all laid there. Still. Broken. Dead.
Time had slowed. Rain seemed to have suspended mid-air. The chirping of the birds ceased. Then, as faintly as a leaf falling from a tree, Tom took a breath. He painfully opened his eyes but he couldn’t see anything. His face was pressed hard into the dirt next to Foster, and Meridith was on the other side of Mr Gatcliffe. He tried to lift up but his own horse had pinned his legs down. His looked down to his left arm that was severely severed and was like a tree after being hit by an axe, oozing out with sap. He winced and cursed in his head as the pain from his arm ran through his body. A sense of familiarity flooded him as he was reminded of all his friends wounded and giving up too soon. He couldn’t be like that, his family were relying on him to come home. His mothers voice echoed in his head.
Time had slowed. Rain seemed to have suspended mid-air. The chirping of the birds ceased. Then, as faintly as a leaf falling from a tree, Tom took a breath. He painfully opened his eyes but he couldn’t see anything. His face was pressed hard into the dirt next to Foster, and Meridith was on the other side of Mr Gatcliffe. He tried to lift up but his own horse had pinned his legs down. His looked down to his left arm that was severely severed and was like a tree after being hit by an axe, oozing out with sap. He winced and cursed in his head as the pain from his arm ran through his body. A sense of familiarity flooded him as he was reminded of all his friends wounded and giving up too soon. He couldn’t be like that, his family were relying on him to come home. His mothers voice echoed in his head.
“No matter what you do I am proud of you as long as you have given it your all. And remember I will always love you.”
“No matter what you do I am proud of you as long as you have given it your all. And remember I will always love you.”
He couldn’t give up so easily he needed to fight. Fierceness and strength coloured his eyes again and adrenaline pulsed through his body.
He couldn’t give up so easily he needed to fight. Fierceness and strength coloured his eyes again and adrenaline pulsed through his body.
With all the power he had he pushed up from the ground, dislodging his legs from the horse. He picked up his beaten and scorched tin hat that had miraculously landed next to him and climbed over to Foster and Meridith.
With all the power he had he pushed up from the ground, dislodging his legs from the horse. He picked up his beaten and scorched tin hat that had miraculously landed next to him and climbed over to Foster and Meridith.
“Foster!” He screamed “Meridith!”
“Foster!” He screamed “Meridith!”
A small, strangled cry came from beneath the horses. It was Foster. Tom scrambled to remove the horse covering Foster. He gripped it by its neck and thrusted it up creating enough space for Foster to jostle free. Tom’s hand reached out to help him and as their hands gripped each other a feeling of relief and comfort briefly filled Tom and gifted him a slight smile. “But what about Meridith” The concerning thought quickly killed his moment of happiness.
A small, strangled cry came from beneath the horses. It was Foster. Tom scrambled to remove the horse covering Foster. He gripped it by its neck and thrusted it up creating enough space for Foster to jostle free. Tom’s hand reached out to help him and as their hands gripped each other a feeling of relief and comfort briefly filled Tom and gifted him a slight smile. “But what about Meridith” The concerning thought quickly killed his moment of happiness.
Foster was already trying to free Meridith but was failing as the horse had covered Meridith entirely. Tom lifted the horse from behind as Foster clutched the horse from the front. They both heaved with all their might until the horse finally rolled over. “Meridith!” Tom cried as he rushed to his side, but it was too late.
Foster was already trying to free Meridith but was failing as the horse had covered Meridith entirely. Tom lifted the horse from behind as Foster clutched the horse from the front. They both heaved with all their might until the horse finally rolled over. “Meridith!” Tom cried as he rushed to his side, but it was too late.
Foster started CPR and Tom collapsed into himself as thoughts of shame and hate filled his head.
Foster started CPR and Tom collapsed into himself as thoughts of shame and hate filled his head.
“I’m so stupid! How could I let this happen! I have disappointed everyone and have let someone die! I should have listened to the warnings! Idiot!”
“I’m so stupid! How could I let this happen! I have disappointed everyone and have let someone die! I should have listened to the warnings! Idiot!”
His tear ducts overfilled and like the heavy rain running down the sandbags, tears ran down his cheeks. Foster’s desperate CPR was useless as Meridith had been dead on impact. A large monstrous blade of metal had struck the back of his head and the compression of the horse lodged it further into his skull.
His tear ducts overfilled and like the heavy rain running down the sandbags, tears ran down his cheeks. Foster’s desperate CPR was useless as Meridith had been dead on impact. A large monstrous blade of metal had struck the back of his head and the compression of the horse lodged it further into his skull.
Foster and Tom laid there exhausted in the middle of the ditch as cold, heavy rain washed the blood and dirt from there bruised and scared skin. The pain and guilt Tom inflicted on himself had absorbed all the energy he had left and like sleeping on the wooden plank, he slowly rolled over in the dirt and slowly closed his eyes.
Foster and Tom laid there exhausted in the middle of the ditch as cold, heavy rain washed the blood and dirt from there bruised and scared skin. The pain and guilt Tom inflicted on himself had absorbed all the energy he had left and like sleeping on the wooden plank, he slowly rolled over in the dirt and slowly closed his eyes.
Tired. Painless. Ruined.
Tired. Painless. Ruined.
