Wolfie
May 13th, 2008, 11:27 AM
Ok, here's a story I wrote for english a while back. It's not the most historically accurate story in the world, but hey :P
Memoirs of a WW1 Private
“James,” A voice. Seems distant.
“James, Wake up,” Someone shakes me. I open my eyes blearily and try to make out the figure in front of me. Robert Parks. We’re currently in our tent at rest camp. We spent the night in the estaminet down in the village. We are going to the Somme this morning. I dread it. We hear there is going to be that final push that will drive the lousy Hun back to Berlin.
“Captain Wilson wants to see you James.” Robert says. I stagger out of the tent, staggering with a hangover. I stumble into Captain Wilson’s tent.
“You wanted me Captain?” I ask in my Irish accent, Vision swimming.
“Yes Private McEvoy, You have an urgent letter.” He hands me an envelope. I open it and read.
My dear James,
Your Family died last night in a fire. I’m terribly sorry.
The funeral is next week.
I'm so sorry I cannot write more, but there is nothing more to say.
I miss you everyday, your loving Wife,
Lily.
I feel tears welling in my eyes. I clench my fists hard.
“Its 6AM Captain, Lets move out.” I growl, all traces of drunkenness forgotten.
A few hours later, our Squadron is heading for the Somme.
“C’mon lads! Lighten the Moral!” Captain Wilson says cheerily.
“Why not sing?” Jamie Ellison asks.
“Oranges and Lemons, Say the bells of St. Clements,” I sing. The others join in.
“You owe me Five Farthings, Say the bells of St. Martins.
When will you pay me? Say the bells of Old Bailey.
When I grow rich, Say the bells of Shoreditch.
When will that be? Say the bells of Stepney,
I’m sure I don’t know, Say the great bells at Bow.
Here comes the candle to light you to bed.
Here comes the chopper, to chop off your head.” We laugh after that, and our mood soars. If only we knew that our lives would were going into the fiery depths of hell, waiting to be let loose from the pain, waiting for the moment to soar up to heaven.
*
“Don’t go James!” Lily sobs into my shoulder.
“They’ll put us out if I don’t” I whisper.
“They Can’t! It’s not right! What about our baby!?” She cries.
“I’ll be back before he’s born. I promise.” I kiss Lily softly.
“No More tears now.” I whisper into her ear.
*
“What’s up James?” Harry McBride claps me on the back. We’ve been best mates for years.
“Just thinking about Lily.” I sigh.
“S’alright buddy, we’ll be back soon enough.” I just wish I can believe him. I hear calls up ahead. We’ve reached our trench. We hop into the foul muddy, ditch and make our way into the dugout.
“Back in the Cess pit again, eh?” Rob grins and high fives Jamie.
“Great, killing more Germans, how very thrilling,” I murmur, sitting on one of the cots. I hear the Lieutenant barking orders.
“Stand up straight Patterson!”…………… “Chest out Patterson!”………. “You call this a clean Rifle Barrel Patterson?! A weeks worth of sentry duty!” He roars. I poke my head around the dugout curtain.
“Sorry to interrupt Lieutenant, but your spit is hitting Sergeant Peters over there,” I smile. He storms up to me.
“Ahhhhhh, Private McEvoy. A joker, just like your Father, Corporal McEvoy. Same as Patterson! SENTRY DUTY!” I groan. Another night’s lost sleep.
The calm before battle is horrible. Especially when you know there is only a curl of Barbed Wire protecting you. I adjust my tin helmet and sigh, breath swirling up to the heavens in a mist. Matthew Patterson nudges me. We’re on sentry duty together.
“Are you from Dublin? I think I recognise you.”
*
“What d’ya think your doing McEvoy!?” Matthew shouts at me. I take another bite out of my bread and turn around.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Look what you did! You moved your foot and spattered mud on my new boots!” He roars.
“Well sorry! You should have been watching where you were walking!” I shout back.
“Your dead McEvoy!” His fist draws back. My world shatters into blackness...
*
I rub my crooked nose.
“Yeah. Hey there, Matthew. I see your not complaining about mud now are you?” I croak.
“McEvoy?” He gasps.
“Aye?” I ask coldly.
“Sorry for what I di…….” He stops suddenly. His eyes are focused in the periscope.
"Oh no...." He says, eyes wide. I push aside and look. The Grey Horde of the Germans marching slowly toward our trenches.
“The Fritz are coming!” We gasp. “Wake Up! Hun! Hun!”
Our Machine gunners open fire. I’m terrified out of my wits. I look through the periscope and see the Grey hordes coming in their hundreds, ready to shoot and kill all Tommy’s that stand in their path. The Lieutenant runs up to me.
“Get over there and fight!” He bellows.
“Sir, Yes, Sir!” I reply automatically and crawl over the top. Adrenaline is coursing through my body like the Colarado. We charge towards the Fritz, firing as we run doubled over, making ourselves smaller targets. I suddenly hear the Shrill Singing of a Shell. Falling…Falling……………BOOM!
*
A tiny hand grabs my nose.
“Hey there, Edward.” I grin, my newborn son in my arms. Edward gurgles.
“I knew you’d keep your promise James!” Lily smiles.
“Hey, don’t thank me, Thank Captain Wilson, he gave me leave.” I smile at her.
“Isn’t he the cutest,” She sighs.
“Aye.” I say simply.
*
My eyes flicker open. Silence. I try to move, but there is a weight on top of me. I roll over slowly, so the thing topples off. It’s a body. I look down and see his glazed eyes staring at me, but not seeing. It’s Harry. He’s dead. A feel tears falling down my cheeks. I wipe them away. I can weep for him later. I need to concentrate on keeping myself alive. I stand up shakily. No-man’s-land is quiet, eerily still.
“James!?” I look up. All I see is fog. A figure looms out of the mist. Jamie. I open my mouth to reply, but instead I collapse. I feel a dull pain in my chest and see blood. There is lots of it. I look up and see a Hun, gun pointing a me. He too, crumples, shot in the back by the remainder of the troops. My Squadron (or what’s left of it) rush over.
“MEDIC!” They scream. They fade………
*
“Who’s that Dad?” Edward asks me. It has been 13 years since the day Harry died. That Hellish day of death and suffering.
“Harry McBride. My best friend.” I say, staring at the memorial stone. I miss him terribly. All the things he never got to do. I kneel down and lay a solitary poppy on the patch of earth, where under the grass, a body should lie. But Harry isn’t there. He’s buried in the Somme. I stand up.
“Well how, do you do, young Harry McBride.
Do you mind if I sit here, down by your graveside?” I sing the rest of the old Irish Song and turn from the memorial. Lily’s standing there, 2 year old Tiffany in her arms. A lone tear rolls down my cheek. I blink. I breath. I walk slowly away, softly singing Oranges and Lemons. I stop and turn again.
“Goodbye Harry.” I salute, treasuring this moment, adding it to my collection of memories.
End
So what do you think?
Memoirs of a WW1 Private
“James,” A voice. Seems distant.
“James, Wake up,” Someone shakes me. I open my eyes blearily and try to make out the figure in front of me. Robert Parks. We’re currently in our tent at rest camp. We spent the night in the estaminet down in the village. We are going to the Somme this morning. I dread it. We hear there is going to be that final push that will drive the lousy Hun back to Berlin.
“Captain Wilson wants to see you James.” Robert says. I stagger out of the tent, staggering with a hangover. I stumble into Captain Wilson’s tent.
“You wanted me Captain?” I ask in my Irish accent, Vision swimming.
“Yes Private McEvoy, You have an urgent letter.” He hands me an envelope. I open it and read.
My dear James,
Your Family died last night in a fire. I’m terribly sorry.
The funeral is next week.
I'm so sorry I cannot write more, but there is nothing more to say.
I miss you everyday, your loving Wife,
Lily.
I feel tears welling in my eyes. I clench my fists hard.
“Its 6AM Captain, Lets move out.” I growl, all traces of drunkenness forgotten.
A few hours later, our Squadron is heading for the Somme.
“C’mon lads! Lighten the Moral!” Captain Wilson says cheerily.
“Why not sing?” Jamie Ellison asks.
“Oranges and Lemons, Say the bells of St. Clements,” I sing. The others join in.
“You owe me Five Farthings, Say the bells of St. Martins.
When will you pay me? Say the bells of Old Bailey.
When I grow rich, Say the bells of Shoreditch.
When will that be? Say the bells of Stepney,
I’m sure I don’t know, Say the great bells at Bow.
Here comes the candle to light you to bed.
Here comes the chopper, to chop off your head.” We laugh after that, and our mood soars. If only we knew that our lives would were going into the fiery depths of hell, waiting to be let loose from the pain, waiting for the moment to soar up to heaven.
*
“Don’t go James!” Lily sobs into my shoulder.
“They’ll put us out if I don’t” I whisper.
“They Can’t! It’s not right! What about our baby!?” She cries.
“I’ll be back before he’s born. I promise.” I kiss Lily softly.
“No More tears now.” I whisper into her ear.
*
“What’s up James?” Harry McBride claps me on the back. We’ve been best mates for years.
“Just thinking about Lily.” I sigh.
“S’alright buddy, we’ll be back soon enough.” I just wish I can believe him. I hear calls up ahead. We’ve reached our trench. We hop into the foul muddy, ditch and make our way into the dugout.
“Back in the Cess pit again, eh?” Rob grins and high fives Jamie.
“Great, killing more Germans, how very thrilling,” I murmur, sitting on one of the cots. I hear the Lieutenant barking orders.
“Stand up straight Patterson!”…………… “Chest out Patterson!”………. “You call this a clean Rifle Barrel Patterson?! A weeks worth of sentry duty!” He roars. I poke my head around the dugout curtain.
“Sorry to interrupt Lieutenant, but your spit is hitting Sergeant Peters over there,” I smile. He storms up to me.
“Ahhhhhh, Private McEvoy. A joker, just like your Father, Corporal McEvoy. Same as Patterson! SENTRY DUTY!” I groan. Another night’s lost sleep.
The calm before battle is horrible. Especially when you know there is only a curl of Barbed Wire protecting you. I adjust my tin helmet and sigh, breath swirling up to the heavens in a mist. Matthew Patterson nudges me. We’re on sentry duty together.
“Are you from Dublin? I think I recognise you.”
*
“What d’ya think your doing McEvoy!?” Matthew shouts at me. I take another bite out of my bread and turn around.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Look what you did! You moved your foot and spattered mud on my new boots!” He roars.
“Well sorry! You should have been watching where you were walking!” I shout back.
“Your dead McEvoy!” His fist draws back. My world shatters into blackness...
*
I rub my crooked nose.
“Yeah. Hey there, Matthew. I see your not complaining about mud now are you?” I croak.
“McEvoy?” He gasps.
“Aye?” I ask coldly.
“Sorry for what I di…….” He stops suddenly. His eyes are focused in the periscope.
"Oh no...." He says, eyes wide. I push aside and look. The Grey Horde of the Germans marching slowly toward our trenches.
“The Fritz are coming!” We gasp. “Wake Up! Hun! Hun!”
Our Machine gunners open fire. I’m terrified out of my wits. I look through the periscope and see the Grey hordes coming in their hundreds, ready to shoot and kill all Tommy’s that stand in their path. The Lieutenant runs up to me.
“Get over there and fight!” He bellows.
“Sir, Yes, Sir!” I reply automatically and crawl over the top. Adrenaline is coursing through my body like the Colarado. We charge towards the Fritz, firing as we run doubled over, making ourselves smaller targets. I suddenly hear the Shrill Singing of a Shell. Falling…Falling……………BOOM!
*
A tiny hand grabs my nose.
“Hey there, Edward.” I grin, my newborn son in my arms. Edward gurgles.
“I knew you’d keep your promise James!” Lily smiles.
“Hey, don’t thank me, Thank Captain Wilson, he gave me leave.” I smile at her.
“Isn’t he the cutest,” She sighs.
“Aye.” I say simply.
*
My eyes flicker open. Silence. I try to move, but there is a weight on top of me. I roll over slowly, so the thing topples off. It’s a body. I look down and see his glazed eyes staring at me, but not seeing. It’s Harry. He’s dead. A feel tears falling down my cheeks. I wipe them away. I can weep for him later. I need to concentrate on keeping myself alive. I stand up shakily. No-man’s-land is quiet, eerily still.
“James!?” I look up. All I see is fog. A figure looms out of the mist. Jamie. I open my mouth to reply, but instead I collapse. I feel a dull pain in my chest and see blood. There is lots of it. I look up and see a Hun, gun pointing a me. He too, crumples, shot in the back by the remainder of the troops. My Squadron (or what’s left of it) rush over.
“MEDIC!” They scream. They fade………
*
“Who’s that Dad?” Edward asks me. It has been 13 years since the day Harry died. That Hellish day of death and suffering.
“Harry McBride. My best friend.” I say, staring at the memorial stone. I miss him terribly. All the things he never got to do. I kneel down and lay a solitary poppy on the patch of earth, where under the grass, a body should lie. But Harry isn’t there. He’s buried in the Somme. I stand up.
“Well how, do you do, young Harry McBride.
Do you mind if I sit here, down by your graveside?” I sing the rest of the old Irish Song and turn from the memorial. Lily’s standing there, 2 year old Tiffany in her arms. A lone tear rolls down my cheek. I blink. I breath. I walk slowly away, softly singing Oranges and Lemons. I stop and turn again.
“Goodbye Harry.” I salute, treasuring this moment, adding it to my collection of memories.
End
So what do you think?