The Strength of the Human Heart

The glowing light tore through his skin relentlessly, as if it was burning through every layer of his clothes right down to his core. France was boiling during this time of year. His muddy brown hair shone brightly on top of his head. He was a stocky lad, not too tall but not too short either. Being on the western front was no easy feat. Battles far too extreme were just beyond the horizon and there was no turning back now. His dust covered palms slowly wiped off the beads of sweat on his forehead. His feet ached as he walked back and forth inside the trench. His friend, Joseph, spotted him with caring and concerned eyes and began to walk towards him. Joseph’s crows feet emerged as he cracked a smile at Thomas.

Somehow he was always smiling and the energy was just too vivacious to ignore. Thomas couldn't resist that joy and cracked a smile back.

“Try not to think too much, you’ll just make your brain go in loops until you go mad, I know you,” Joseph laughed as he talked.

“You make it sound easier than it is but I’ll give it a shot.”

The two men started walking together down the trenches talking and reminiscing of their days of youth, with ice cream flowing down their hands like a stream of sweet and the summer sun's gentle kiss on their skin. The days of laughter emerging from deep within the cave of their bellies and when the bliss was so palpable. Their reminiscing was interrupted by General Hubert Gough. His furrowed brow together with the self soothing of rubbing his temple showed that this was not good news. His tired and wrinkled green eyes had a look of resistance until he finally spoke.

“Boys, it’s time.”

The three simple words that broke out of the General's mouth was enough for the men to understand. The Germans were here. Thomas tried to cut off the news from his mind like circulation, trying to wrap the ribbon of youth and cherished memories around its airways until it faded out of existence. That plan failed. However, Thomas was not a man of cowardice and even when thoughts and fear may have attempted to consume his mind, he continued on. He pulled out the roots of resistance and kept a kind and strong heart. Joseph and Thomas ran to their stations and began to prepare. The layers piling on feeling like a rock being pulled down into the depths of the ocean, however they had to resist. Their overworked backs and tired feet straightened up as they stood tall, even with the weight of the world on their shoulders. They ran to the rest of their battalion and saw all the other diamonds of purple and green standing out on their dusted and worn uniforms. The Commander General, William Birdwood, stood wise and calm above them as if he were an alpha wolf and we were his pack. They were family, they looked out for each other and would sacrifice their lives for their family.

“Gentlemen, the time is slowly but surely approaching, the scum are attempting to reclaim the land they’ve already lost several times, I have no doubt you lads will not disappoint me by defeating them one last time. Are we clear?” The Commander General spoke calmly but with a deep confidence in his voice, he knew what he was doing and they had no doubt his orders would bring them to victory.

The men stood silent and still, as the orders commanded. The silence was overpowering and carried with it so much burden and responsibility. Joseph and Thomas stood next to one another, they were never far apart. Soon the silence became quieter, the rhythm of marching and noise started to fill their ears instead. Looming, dark figures stood just about a kilometre away. They were here alright, and their presence was enough to shake them to their core. The men stood at attention as the Commander General stood in front of them.

Thomas could hear his commander's strong willed voice blurring in with the melody of noise coming from the enemy, it was hard to focus. After the commander barked his last orders to the men he stood back. The battle was about to begin. Firing started when they were just less than half a kilometre away. No matter how long Thomas had been fighting, the rattling of shots ricocheting off his ears continued to be an abnormal, disturbing sound. He was fairly high in the ranks and knew his way around his weapon. He could focus in and pay attention to the small details, those were crucial. The gunshots continued to fire and began to create a song in tune with screams and yells of agony and success. Thomas was firing everywhere, trying to keep up with the masses of men rushing around, mud splattering, blood shedding. He couldn't see Joseph anywhere, he prayed that he was safe somewhere and was protecting himself.

Thomas continued fighting for several hours, the evil seemed to loom over with cold, lifeless eyes, almost like they were mass produced emotionless machines. It didn't matter how many times Thomas had fired his gun, letting the bullet penetrate the skin of a fellow human, he never got used to it. The continuous antagonising screams were the sign that he had hit someone. Thomas thought about all the blokes on his battalion that were so much younger than him. The lives they could be living but instead their lifeless corpse would be lying, squashed by feet, flies buzzing soaking in the rotten smell. The thought flashed out of his mind as fast as it came in and he continued battling. Heavy artillery was fired and the loud crashing shook people violently. Thomas often thought how ironic all of this was when he was able to catch some time in his trench. Such a breathtaking landscape, colourful sunsets and gorgeous trees yet you would never be able to predict how many Australian lives were lost there. Thomas quickly turned around when he heard a familiar voice scream in ear shattering agony. Joseph. He laid on the ground pale and as he gulped his last breath of air. Thomas stood in shock. In all his years he had experienced so much death, but never someone so deeply close to him. Thomas felt a monster of rage bubble from within until it burnt and spread to the outside of his body. He began to fight harder than he ever thought possible. This feeling consumed him. Until, he felt a painful piercing penetrate his abdomen. In shock he couldn't move, then the next enemy bullet felt as if it flew straight through his thigh. He dropped down. Buzzing consumed him, colours seemed to blur and blend together in the atmosphere around him, familiar faces became messed up jigsaw puzzles as the core of his world seemed to collapse. The colours began to whirl into the depth of black until he lost all cognition.

It had been four days in the casualty clearing station, and although he knew he hadn't died when the sharp eyed evil knocked him with his sharpshooting, he knew it'd be soon. A spiritual advisor by the name of Collin came in.

“Sir,” Thomas croaked out. “What do you think happens when you pass?”

The spiritual advisor seemed to sit in a chair full of deep thought and consideration, he could almost see the cogs of his brain turning slowly.

“Well son you see…” The man and Thomas spoke for several hours about youth, love, war and the basic essence of life, our humanity. Thomas cracked a smile at the man as it began to get dark outside.

“Sir,” Thomas coughed out.

“Yes my child,” He said as he gently gazed upon Thomas’s pale face and limp body.

“I think I'm truly content sir, I think I'm ready now.”

The man put his hand over Thomas’ head and uttered a sweet and soft prayer. The words washed over like lukewarm water on an aged back.

Thomas cracked a smile, the wrinkles of a well lived life approaching his face. A gentle tear rolled down his cheek as he struggled for his lungs to fill with one last breath of life.

And as his eyes gently fluttered closed he spoke one last sentence.

“In thee o'lord, have I put my hope. Let me never be confounded.” The words seemed to echo in the quiet cave of peace.

Thomas floated back into his bed. He was gone. Collin sat there for a moment in silence.

He saw last grasps of colour cling onto the dark, consuming sky, silhouettes of men standing in the distance along with trees and nature blissfully swaying.

The world seemed to slow without Thomas’ conversation.

He looked out and up to the lightly twinkling stars and waved. He knew that Thomas was waving back.