Over the Top

Written by: Matt

The sun had just come over the hills behind the German Front Line. Rays of fire burnt down on the trenches which sat in the camps of the Irishman, as they waited. Waited for the order to go over the top. Waited for the order to send themselves hurtling towards the Germans. And as far as the Generals were saying, waiting for the order to win the war.

Most of the privates were sitting in the small cubbyholes which had been given to them for eat and sleep, but they were hardly good enough for even sitting in. They were tiny. The soldiers couldn't lie down, and they were forced to sleep curled up in a ball. They were cold. There was no way to keep the air out, and with this air brought in the fumes of the toxic artillery that had been fired by both sides for well over two years. They were dirty. By carving a lump of mud out of the walls of a ditch, the soldiers didn't expect much, but many of these 'homes' were wet and slimy, mud continually dripping on the inhabitants. Blood stains on the floor, where the soldiers' injuries killed them.

Still, one of these soldiers had not gone to bed, and was nervously anticipating what would come next. Billy McFadzean was sitting as far away from the front line as possible, his back resting against the trunk of a rough tree. Giddy from all the rum he had drunk, combined with the sorrow he felt, he couldn't balance against the tree, and kept falling backwards. He had arrived here two years ago, although he didn't want to. He joined the Irish Army to crusade for a joined nation, but when war broke out, he was sent to this hellhole. He was twenty-one today, yet nobody was there to celebrate his birthday with him. Everyone he had met, died. He was the last of the original Ulster division, but they shipped in more recruits, but each wave that they sent in just gave their life for a 'greater good.' The private was starting to think that there was no justification to this war, only death.

He was wet, tired and exhausted. Rain continued to pour down from the skies, and without the minimal shelter the other had, he was getting soaked, but at least he could stretch out. Billy hadn't slept for as long as he remembered. He couldn't sleep in the awful conditions they were given, and he couldn't sleep outside with the noise of constant shell fire. Looking around, Billy noticed nobody standing there, and pulled out his canteen. A litle bit of rum won't hurt, he thought to himself. Talking a gulp, and swallowing it down, he felt warm, for the first time. Maybe I'll try to get in a small nap.... Billy lay back, tired. Before long, he was fast asleep within the communication trenches, with shell fire raining overhead.

Surprisingly, Billy lasted three hours, but when he woke up, the tree which he had leant on earlier that day had been blown to smithereens. The trees of Theipval woods had been blown away, with only one single, green tree remaining. How long will it be before that one goes? Billy sighed. Why does everything have to do...

Suddenly, Billy heard a voice from behind him. It was his commander, Lieutenant Spencer. "Billy, me lad! Wotcha doin' out here?"

"I just thought I'd grab some sleep, lieutenant... I can't sleep in the mudholes which we're given. It's too small and damp." His senior shook his head, and laughed.

"Billy, you ain't slept in four days in the quiet of an hole, but you sleep out 'ere in the pouring rain and constant firin' at us? You're one of a kind." The Private was about to say something, but, before he could get any words out of his mouth, the officer continued. "Say, Billy. You're a good kid, a good soldier. God knwos you've been 'ere longer than any of us. Take this 'ere box of grenades. Government orders, ye see. One grenade for each person, case they get into trouble - I think a l'il bit of booze works better meself, but I can't argue with what Haig says! If ye 'ead up to the front line trenches, ye can give out one of these each."

Billy took the box of grenades, and looked up into his officers eyes. Billy could see the tears in his lieutenants eyes, just as his were visible to the senior. "People are gonna die today, aren't they, sir."

The lieutenant sighed. "I'm afraid so, Billy, I'm gonna lose a lot of good soldiers today, but a lot more good friends. But that's what war is about - putting the life of loved ones, and yourself, to get what you think is right."

Billy couldn't bear thinking about it. He had lost so many friends before, that he didn't want to lose any more. He thought of what he could do. Run Away... he thought first. But where would he run to? The complicated map of trenches would only take him back to high command, and if he was caught there, away from business, then he would surely be shot. Suicide... came next, but then what Lieutentant Spencer said suddenly rung true. So many people had died in this war, each becuase of the corrupted aims of the generals. I'll fight for those I've lost, Billy decided. As if to convince himself, he said it again in a shaky voice, blotten by all those tears, and again, in a much stronger voice. With this new found confidence, Billy made his way to the trench, ready to strengthen the army, and to share his newfound decisions with his friends.

He reached the front line, and saw all the privates lined up, each edging towards Private Poole, a great friend of his. In his hands was a massive bottle of rum - It looked like the lieutenant had got his way after all, Billy thought. Still, a little extra protection never hurt anyone, he thought, edging in to the side of Poole, handing out grenades to those who went past. The first section went through, followed by the second without a hitch.

Billy picked up a grenade, read to give another private it, and he saw the worst thing there could have been in that tin box. He pulled out a pin. Without a pin, one of those grenades was going to explode, and fast. Suddenly, for Billy, the world turned to ice, and he had no idea what to do. One of those grenades was going to detonate, and kill all these men. He had no idea how long the pin had been eout, so sorting through the box was too dangerous, what if the time ran out. In the end, the brave private did the only thing he could do.

Billy dropped the box to the floor, and threw himself on top of it. For Billy, this seemed like an eternity, but three seconds later, the grenade went off, and exploded. As the sound reached Billy's ears, he knew he would die, but he knew he had died for a noble cause. "Amen," he whispered.