Over There - L'Enfer

L'Enfer
Georges Paul Leroux
Source

Allen was a veteran of war, but he'd never experienced anything like this. It felt as if the Earth was trying to throw him into the air where he could be ripped apart by the shell fragments which were tearing through everything above ground.

He was lying on the bottom of the trench. every explosion caused the duckboard underneath him to buck like a living thing. Mud and dirt splashed up from the trench floor and the trench walls seemed about to collapse at any moment.

He was deafened by the nearly constant explosions. He had attempted to crawl to his bunker but he was now so disoriented that he had no idea in what direction that bunker was. He pressed his interlocked hands over the back of his neck and tried to make himself one with the trench floor. Another shock heaved him upwards and punched the very air from his lungs.

He lay there gasping, his world a blurry torment of flying debris and shock. He felt hands on him, pulling him down the trench.

"Jesus, Sir, what the hell are you doing out here?" Sergeant Major Fratello was screaming but his own voice was muffled in his ears, as if coming from a distance. Blood was streaming from those ears as he dragged his captain to the dubious shelter of one of the bunkers dug into the trench walls.

A near miss tossed him in the air, his knees immediately buckling as he came back down. The Sergeant Major put his hands over his ears and began to scream incoherently, all thought of saving his officer gone.

Capitaine Petit ran down to the positions held by the American company attached to his battalion. The position was a shambles, a number of German shells had impacted close to the trench line but none had actually hit the line.

Nevertheless, the Americans had not handled their first barrage very well. A number of men were huddled along the bottom of the trench plainly in varying states of shock. He grabbed the first man who looked reasonably coherent.

"Where is your company commander?!"

The man shook his head and pointed to his ears, shouting, "I can't hear you!"

Placing his lips close to the man's left ear, Petit bellowed, "Where! Is! Your! Commander!?"

A light seemed to dawn in the man's eyes, he turned and pointed, "He's down there!"

Petit continued in that direction, only to find a very dazed looking lieutenant. He grabbed the man, "The Germans are coming! Man your positions!"

The lieutenant looked around, as if seeing the area for the first time, "Germans?"

"Yes, the Germans, they are coming!" Petit was becoming frantic, but he noticed a number of men climb onto the firing steps, far fewer than should have been there, but their NCOs were driving them now.

Moving along, he heard the machine guns to either side of the American position begin to chatter. Why les Boches had concentrated solely on the American position made no sense, unless ...

He continued to move, the machine guns stopped firing. Ahead he saw his man, bent over another man, shaking him.

It was indeed Captain Allen, the man he was shaking was his sergeant major, who was screaming incoherently. Allen noticed the French officer and stood up.

"Fratello's been knocked silly, you'll need to speak up Henri, my ears are still ringing."

"This man needs to be evacuated to the rear, he may recover, he may not, but here is no place for him. Get your men in position, I thought the Germans would attack, but perhaps that barrage was simply to weaken your men's courage. But if it starts again, they will come, and you MUST be ready."

Bauer was watching his squad intently, with the exception of Eberbach, they were all so young. As the war continued into its fourth year, Germany was running out of men. Most of the company was composed of new conscripts, most with barely two months in the Army.

Bauer had received his orders early that morning: there would be a brief bombardment of the portion of the French line held by an American company, his company would go in an hour after that bombardment ceased. One thing his captain had told him, make sure the men have their gasmasks, the infantry attack was to be preceded by a gas barrage.

Bauer hated the damned gasmask, it restricted his vision. But he knew from experience that it would keep him alive if it was in good repair. So he had his squad demonstrate their ability to don their masks and that their masks were in good shape.

He should have expected it, the new men all had brand new masks, only two of them knew how to put them on correctly. He and Eberbach showed the new men the right way of doing it. They were as ready as they would ever be.

Allen was still shaken that his sergeant major seemed to have broken during the barrage. He had gone to the rear, looking embarrassed at his condition. He wasn't reluctant to leave however, the man was shaking almost uncontrollably and couldn't wait to depart.

"It happens to even the best of men. Courage is a limited thing, a man might stand combat for years, then suddenly he snaps. Your man might well recover and return, but he will never be the same again." Capitaine Petit shook his head after that little speech.

"He's been in the Army for a long time, but the Philippines, Mexico, was nothing like this. Hell, the Moros had no cannon and the Mexicans had damned few. We spent most of the time along the border chasing bandits."

Allen paused, then spat into the mud.

"Not sure I could stand much more of that myself. What's the longest barrage you've ever been under?" He asked, looking at Petit.

The Frenchman turned as white as a sheet and muttered, "Days ... Verdun ..."

Before Allen could ask about that, a shell popped just outside the trench. One of the men laughed and said, "Hey, a dud!"

Petit immediately began to bellow, "GAS! GAS! GAS!"

More shells followed, each popped, then began to hiss, emitting a cloud. A cloud which could cripple or kill if inhaled.

The Germans were coming ...