Over There - Aux Tranchées

Source

It was cold and it was wet. The march up to the trenches had been nasty, a cold wet rain falling on the men which had hints of snow and ice in it as well. The men had grumbled, as was their wont, which comforted Allen. In his experience, if the men weren't bitching then things were bad indeed.

"Hell, this is better'n Grand Forks in February! I can still feel my legs!"

Sergeant Major Lou Fratello barked out, "Quiet back there! One foot in front of the other and keep the chit chat down to a dull roar."

Allen chuckled, Fratello was a very good man, he kept the men straight but he made sure their morale stayed high. Many times he'd seen the man helping one of the duller privates learn the trade of the soldier. He wouldn't trade Fratello for anyone.

2nd Lieutenant Johnson, on the other hand, he'd let go in a heartbeat. The man couldn't seem to grasp the principles of leadership. When he wasn't ignoring his platoon, he was screaming at them.

"Goddammit, Private! You splashed mud all over me!"

The private in question had slipped on the trail and in attempting to recover his balance had indeed splashed mud all over his lieutenant. Allen stepped out of his place at the head of the column and waited for Johnson's platoon by the side of the track.

Johnson snapped a salute when he saw his company commander, which earned him a nasty look from his platoon sergeant.

"Sergeant Morrisey, go ahead and keep the men moving, your lieutenant is going to be busy for a bit."

"Sir!"

Eberbach had insisted on accompanying Bauer.

"Your brother is dead, and you want to risk your life in no man's land? On a night scout?"

Kurt Eberbach looked intently at his corporal, his oldest friend. "My brother is dead, I can't bring him back. I can't even kill the man who killed him, I'm not a pilot nor do I know who brought him down."

Eberbach looked off into the distance, a grim look on his face.

"So you'll kill some Frenchman for what? Vengeance? Will that make any difference?"

"Don't leave me behind, Kurt. Please."

So now there they were, in a water-filled shell hole, shivering as the water in their place of refuge began to ice over. The rain had changed completely to snow.

"Lieutenant Johnson, you need to act more professionally in front of the men. Screaming because your coat got muddy is petty and childish. You do know that, don't you?"

Johnson looked at the ground then met the eyes of his commander, "Yes Sir, I do. I shall apologize to the man at once."

"You'll do no such thing. The men will perceive that as weakness. Turn it into a joke, make light of it somehow. You do have a sense of humor, don't you?"

Johnson looked off into the distance, "I do Sir, but ..."

"But what?"

"I'm terrified, Sir. I don't want to die. Everything frightens me, I'm a coward, Sir."

Allen looked steadily at the man, "If you weren't afraid I'd have no use for you. Only a mad man would not be afraid. We will be going into battle, perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, but enter into battle we shall. Every man in the company knows that, we're all afraid, Michael."

"You're afraid, Sir? I doubt that, is the Sergeant Major afraid? I doubt that as well."

"The Sergeant Major and I have seen battle, we've seen men die, men we were close to. We know what it's like, it is very much something to be terrified of, all rational men are terrified of battle, the brave simply hide it better than most. You won't know if you're a coward until you've been shot at."

Johnson swallowed hard, "Thank you, Sir. I will try and do my best."

"That's all anyone can ask, Lieutenant. Now rejoin your platoon."

They entered the trenches just after sunrise. The snow had stopped, but the new-fallen snow covered the ground for as far as the eye could see, softening the devastated landscape. But the men saw the ruined trees, the torn earth under that whiteness.

"Almost looks pretty, doesn't it?" Sergeant Major Fratello observed as he examined the ground towards the enemy lines through his field glasses.

Captain Allen stood there, his feet in the icy water at the bottom of the trench. He wished that he was anywhere but here. "Yeah, Sarn't Major, it's picturesque. Are the men settled in?"

"Yessir, I've got them improving the firing steps, their squad bunkers, anything to keep them busy. Think the Huns will give us a welcoming party?"

A shell whistled overhead then exploded some distance to the rear.

Allen ducked, then said, "I think that's them saying 'hello' now."

"COVER!!" Fratello bellowed as more shells began to impact all around them.

As Allen tried to make himself very small, he had an odd thought, "Welcome to France."