29th Of May 1915
The waves, their tips white with foam, crashed up against the boat. Oliver and Ethan rocked, back and forth until their stomachs lurched and they stumbled to the side, emitting chunks into the deep blue. Whether it was sea sickness or pure fright nobody cared, they just stared into the gloom focusing on what was ahead. Nobody spoke, nobody moved, they all just listened. Oliver’s blue eyes had turned grey. He had not eaten much for a while and his insides growled long into the night. The sun hadn’t been out since Oliver and Ethan boarded, clouds loomed above them, Oliver’s skin was ashen, his freckles could barely be seen. But Ethan looked like he always had; his blonde hair flickered over his ears and his lime eyes bright with exhilaration.
They had fed them bread on the last night, there were no stars, and the sky was collaged with clouds. It was even hard to spot the moon. Ethan and Oliver sat together, their fingers rigid by their sides. Men lay awake around them, eyes wide open and their hands shaking. The wind rattled against the outside of the boat, echoing through every man’s ear. The smell of vomit lingered in the air. Men across from Oliver and Ethan clutched their rifles, their knuckles were white. Quiet prayers murmured around them, only to be lost in the rumble of distant gunshots. Into the sinister night, Oliver whispered.
‘Stay with me, Ethan’
Ethan nodded.
30th Of May 1915They called for them early in the morning, before the sun had risen to reveal the battlefield. They loaded the men into boats. Some men were scrawny, there arms tapered, crossed across their bodies. Others were tall, towering over Ethan and Oliver. But they were all scared. Their skin, pallid and their eyes tipped with tears. The gunshots were clear now, star shells exploded over them, like fireworks, dancing in the distance. They rowed in, splashing each other slightly. Then suddenly everything went quiet, the gun shots stopped, the lights faded into the clouds. Oliver stood, and pushed himself over the edge of the boat, into the unknown. Ethan jumped after him, screaming as he leapt.
The gunshots started again as the other men ran towards the jagged cove. Sparks lit the blueberry sky. Ethan and Oliver ran next to each other. They sprinted to the ragged mountains and fell against rocks for safety, panting, they turned to watch shards of metal rip into the water. The shrapnel pierced through the tanned skin of men. Dark blood trickled down once clean military uniforms. They waited for the machine gun to stop firing before, together, they crawled away. Some men followed them, a burly man grunting as they crept across the jagged earth. Oliver winced at every scream and Ethan whispered that it was okay.
The dark sky faded to cherry and began to streak itself with azure. A line of five or six men were still crawling along the serrated cliff. Oliver and Ethan were in front all night, their knees scattered with clay, and their hands were bleeding.
8th Of August 1915
Lieutenant Pease stood, with his back straight and his hands rigid by his sides. His blue eyes were icy and his short dark hair, hidden beneath his grey cap. His voice, booming through the trenches made Oliver shiver. Lieutenant Pease’s lips were pursed and creased at the edges. His fingers were rough and long and scars scattered across his palm.
Ethan and Oliver were in front of Lieutenant Pease. Their hands were moist; Ethan clenched his fingers into his palm and Oliver’s lips quivered.
‘Fourth Battalion, Ethan Tak and Oliver Widen’
They stood in a long line, stretching down the trench. Men whispered to each other, others sobbed, trying to wipe the tears from their cheeks. Ethan brushed his hair away from his eyes and sighed. He put his hand on Oliver’s shoulder.
‘Just run Mate’
Neither of them tried to watch the bullets litter the Turkish trenches, or the explosions of sand bursting into the morning air. Lieutenant Pease checked his watch constantly, his brow was furrowed and his fingers shook. The gunshots stopped. The thump of footsteps echoed through the ground.
‘They’re getting back into the trenches’ someone whispered.
But Oliver didn’t listen; he curled himself against the ditch’s wall. They heard the roar of the first battalion ripple through the air and the stench of blood lingered around them. The Lieutenant mumbled to himself as the second battalion left.
‘It’s bloody murder’ Ethan murmured under his breath. ‘Sir, it’s bloody murder!’ His voice rose over the bellow of the gunshots.
‘I don’t order you to fight, I order you to die.’ Lieutenant Pease growled, baring his teeth at the boys.
Suddenly everything stopped, there were no gunshots, no screams, or ever whimpers. Everyone stood silent; the men who were lucky just gazed out into the fields, where blood stained the dirt.
13th Of December 1915
Soldier’s feet stumbled around Oliver, their quiet whisperers echoed in the air. Oliver tilted his chin up towards the winter sky sprayed with clouds and smiled. The dust settled on his boots and he turned to the rugged mountains, in the distance he could still hear the rumble of gunshots.
‘We’ll be home soon’ Ethan whispered from behind Oliver.
But neither of them are sure, and no one around them is either.
Oliver shrugged his shoulders and starts drag empty boxes from the ships, he is not sure why. And when he asks, they say we are tricking the Turks but he wonders if they really are. His eyes are bloodshot from the weeks without sleep. His fingers are covered in clay and his back is bruised.
When all the empty boxes are pulled from the ships, the men pile in.
16th Of December 1915
When they landed in Cairo, the wind scorched their lips; they cracked and peeled within a few hours. After a while the magic of the pyramids wore off, the soldiers leant on them, yawning in the late afternoon.
Oliver’s hair was sun bleached and tipped with blonde. It swayed in the harsh wind. His eyes, which were once gray with worry, were now the shade his mother would remember; cobalt. Ethan sat with his legs pulled up near his chin, his eyes were closed, his fingers curled into a fist. Oliver was next to him, leaning his head on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan shivered as the air grew cold and they crept to their tents, where soldiers were sleeping.
23rd Of May 1917
The trees, stripped bare, stood all around Oliver. The thick mud stunk, he hadn’t breathed in clean air for a long time. When he ruffled his hair with his fingers, thickets of dirt fell to the ground. Gun shots growled and echoed in his ear. The duckboard cracked beneath his feet. His long arms were specked with freckles, the tip of his nose was burnt and beginning to peel. Ethan leant his elbow on Oliver’s shoulder, but Oliver grunted and shrugged him off. Neither of them talked as the pulled themselves into the trenches. Oliver’s lanky legs were curled under him and he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Ethan pulled, from a small hole dug into the side of the trench, a notebook. It’s once green cover was grey with dust and the pages were beginning to fray.
War does not determine who is right - only who is left.
During the war, Ethan had not learnt much more than that. He had learnt to keep his head down, he had learnt how to shoot a man more than a hundred yards away and he had learnt to value food. But none of that really meant anything compared to understanding the true absurdity of war. He was a better man now, because he knew real courage was not a man with a gun in his hand. Oliver stirred and as Ethan closed his notebook his hands were shaking.
7th Of July 1917
In the darkest hours of the night, when Ethan was on sentry and Oliver was asleep, a siren rung and as Ethan jumped from his seat, Oliver quickly woke. It wasn’t long before the moaning could be heard from the trenches end.
‘Hurry Oli, get you boots on’
Oliver shook his head because he had slept in his boots and he pulled a gun onto his shoulder. They walked down the trench, leaning close to the side. Shadows danced around them and the screaming could still be heard. As the air grew thicker, Oliver became dizzy, yellow fog filled the trench and the boys began to run. When the reached the end of the trench the screams had died down into a whimper. Men around them moaning and scratched at their burns. Oliver fell and as he tried to speak Ethan told him not to. And suddenly, as if they had fallen asleep, together the closed their eyes and guns fell silent.
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