Posts Tagged ‘battlefield’

The night was quiet, too quiet. All you could hear was the soft warble of the water flowing somewhere behind the tree line. The bright sky, filled by glowing stars and a full moon, couldn’t enlighten the night through the dense foliage of the jungle. There was an easy gust of wind now and then, crossing the loaded branches, making a low sound, more calming in the dense, quiet darkness of the night.

They were guarding a random position, taken 2 days ago from them. Josh and Matt were staying in a fox hole with a full loaded machine gun on a cold tripod. They had their Tommy Guns on the side of the hole, as well as 3 hand grenades and 2 Colt Pistols, but they’ll remain unused, lost in the darkness of the night.

They knew each other as back as they could remember. Josh and Matt were best buddies, both from the same hometown, both taking the same schools, sharing the same adventures and problems, both being here, in the same night. Matt was 2 months older than Josh and always took care of him as a youngest brother he never had. He even saved his life twice since they were on the battlefield, but he never thought of that as a favour, or a good gesture. He always felt like that was his job, like he had to protect Josh, like that was a normal thing to do for him.

– Goddamn trees! You can’t even see the sky and I’m tired of this darkness! If they attack, we won’t be able to see them not until they get close enough to wipe us of the face of Earth.

– Yeah, Josh said. At least is not raining and it’s not too cold as well. If we weren’t at war, this would be a perfect night to stay awake, think clear in the quietness of the night or simple enjoy the silence.

– Only if…

As now, it doesn’t count at all. In the war, there is no beauty and even no time to catch your breath. There is only the silence or the thundering of combat, only clear fields or smoky holes, only dead corpses or dying bodies, slowly losing themselves at the influence of war. They could never enjoy anything in the war, even that calm and quiet night back then. You must stay alert at all times, constant vigilance, as the training thought them and there is a strong reason to be so.

– You heard that?

– What?

– I just thought that… Never mind! Let’s just be careful!

And in the silence of the night a short, sharp sound crossed the jungle as a gun was loaded…


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– Cease the fire! Goddamnit, stop that fucking thing!

The trigger was trembling under the push of his tense finger, making the machine gun spit hundreds of bullets towards them. From last night untill now the enemy was pushing the line they were holding. The enemy felt, they felt like ninepins, one wave after another, gathering themselves in big heaps of dead bodies…

The sun started to glitter shy at the horizon. The sunrise was red like the blood of those killed that night… And it all just began. He was on battlefield for no more than 3 weeks and he already killed enough for an entire campaign. He could still see unclear faces when he was asleep… He could still hear the sound of the bullets, ripping through flesh and bones… He was still feeling the death, waiting around the corner, waiting to embrace him.

They attacked last night, somewhere around 0300, while he was at watch with Matt, his best friend from early childhood. They enrolled themselves to take part at such an experience as war, even if they were no more than 19 years old. They hadn’t a clue about what life is preparing for them and no idea about what they’ll encounter here and how different they’ll be after it’s all over… if they’ll survive, of course.

No sign, nothing, but a straight bullet through Matt’s head. No time to react, no chance to say goodbye, nothing, but a bullet. That was all it took to end Matt’s life.

He couldn’t tell how many he killed that night. Maybe hundreds, he had no idea. He just wanted to kill as many as he could, trying to forget that Matt was lying dead next to him, trying to forget that he was alone now, here on this forgotten place. After all, he was send here to kill as many as he could, through any meanings he could.

The words of the captain awake him out of his trance. He stopped the fire. The hot barrel was emanating a strange smell of gunpowder. A steam was arising out of that barrel and for the first time in hours he could see… The bodies, the death, the horror… He could smell the blood and a sick felling took over him.

He killed them all. Why God? Why me? Why all of this? No answer for him or for any of them, just the presence of death, the one companion they’ll have through the whole war…


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"Futility of futilities, all is futile"


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