A smoldering battlefield sits on top of a cater-filled hill. The tree that once stood atop the hill now sits still, no limbs, no leaves, just a thin veil of smoke rising from the tree trunk, smashed by artillery fire. A soldier lies in a trench alone. He looks up at the tree and wonders how the Germans could destroy such a lovely oak.

The shells begin to fall. He picks up his loaded rifle and begins to slowly crawl in his trench. He calls it his trench because he has not left it for five days. He has not seen a fellow comrade in that time. For that matter, he has not seen the enemy in some time. The last German he saw crossed the barren wasteland north of his hill a day ago, or was it two? It was a messenger on horseback. He could tell it was German by the pointed Pickelhaube he wore. John would report it, if he had anyone to report too. Despite his efforts, John was trapped, he was surrounded. 

A week prior, John and his platoon were tasked with securing this hill as a strategic outpost. They took it from the Germans, but they could not hold it. John’s platoon was massacred in front of his eyes. He lost his best friend. He lost his pack with all his belongings. He lost hope.

As John wanders through the trench line, he comes across a large crater, filled with mud. He cannot jump across, it is too wide. John takes a large piece of wood used to reinforce the trenchline and tries to touch the bottom. He cannot find it. Frustrated, he throws it into the water. 

He sits down; as John knows, a smart soldier sits when he can. The moment he plops down, a large fat rat runs across his leg and onto the wooden plant John threw into the water. The rat quickly runs across the plank and onto the other side. John stares at the rat as it runs down the trench line; it turns the corner at the end of the trench disappearing from sight. 

As John considers how he will navigate this obstacle he notices that one side, consisting of a ten foot wall is unscalable, the other side of the crater is a short climb to what was once no man’s land. He thinks to himself that he could easily climb that. But he is hesitant. He knows that he would be easily exposed to anyone looking at the trench.”Oh, what the Hell” he thinks, “no one will see me.” 

He places his foot on a broken piece of wood, he shifts his weight, and with a strained grunt, he hoists himself up onto the edge of the crater. As he sits up, he knocks a piece of rubbish, it tumbles down the opposite side of the crater and splashes, loudly, into a puddle below. His heart sinks, he is frozen with fear. A split second later he thinks to himself, “I should get down.”

CRACK, a whistling bullet screams across the battlefield. It strikes John, as he tumbles into his trenchline. He falls into the large pit.  He feels the cold water soak his clothes. He attempts to tread water. Slowly, John sinks into the deep water. He begins to panic. He quickly removes his boots, unhooks his belt, unbuttons his jacket and slips out of his uniform. John begins to paddle towards the surface, it feels like he is 50 yards deep, he strains, he claws toward the top. Eventually, he reaches the surface on the opposite edge of the crater he started from. 

He crawls all the way to the end of the trench without even considering where he is going or what he is doing, all while the bitter cold steals his soul through his skin. A sharp pain strikes his shoulder, the pain deepens with every stride. He travels another 250 meters on his hands and knees. 

John stops from exhaustion; he lays on the muddy ground. As he rests his head on the floor, he notices a dark tunnel, stretching back into the heart of the trench system. With no were else to turn, he crawls into the entrance to the tunnel, it is a wide room full of cots and an unlit lantern. He crawls onto a bed and loses consciousness. 

When John wakes up, it is dark. The moon shines through the doorway illuminating ammunition on the floor. John notices a small patch of blood has soaked the mattress of the cot. He looks at his shoulder, it is dark red. He winces as he pokes the open wound, lucky the blood flow has weakened, the bullet hit no major artery and is lodged in his right shoulder. What a pain in the ass.

JLS