Flanders fields

[KarlXII]

Haus was already used to it now. The artillery fire, the rats, the cold dry meals. It was the normal day of a private in the German Army in 1917. Haus had already felt like a battle hardened warrior, even though he only saw combat once. And even then, he was on the defending side of the trench, firing at the Tommies. But everyone in his company agreed, the war was fought against not only the Entente, but against disease, rats, and the filth.

Haus was a young skinny man of 20 years. Before the war, he was average sized, and well fed. In the trenches, he had lost a lot of weight, and if he was sent back home today, his family would think he had been in a prison. He had hazel eyes, and short blonde hair, short enough to be covered by a helmet. He enlisted in the Army at 19 in 1916, when the war was starting to dull down. Back home, news of great German victories persuaded him and many young kids to enlist.

And when he did, he was sent to Belgium. He had fought at 2nd Ypres, seen the horrors of war never romanticized in Germany, and looked at Death holding a rifle, charging at him. He had felt as if Death's shadow had come over their trench, and they were forced to escape, however, he had been later told it was this new poisonous gas. Haus could only imagine what went through the minds of the Gas's inventor.

So here Haus was, Ypres, Belgium, in an elaborate trench system a few miles away from another elaborate trench system under a Union Jack. His unit had been stationed at Messines Ridge, he arrived about the 6th of June, after reports of a build up of enemy activity. Haus didn't know what they were thinking, attack a ridge of pillboxes. The fools.

[KarlXII]

Welcome to Flanders Fields, my newest story. I believe this could be my best yet. The story was inspired by All Quiet on the Western front mainly. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

[KarlXII]

June 7th, 1917

There was rumor in the ranks that a major attack by the Allies was about to begin. Many of the officers kept these kinds of things secret, and they have announced numerous times that the rumor is just that. A rumor. However, it is still widely believed by the enlistees. Haus himself did not know what to believe anymore, his friends and comrades, or his superiors, the same superiors who said the war would be over in Christmas.

His unit had been put on alert, watch was switched every hour to keep the men fresh. Haus had just got off guard duty, and he had recieved word from his friend and platoon commander, Lt. Baummer that his platoon would be relieved soon.

Baummer was 30, a Bavarian, and tough as nails. The same dreams of adventure and heroics that swept Haus up swept Baummer up too, but he waited to join the officer club. He was a tall man, 6'2, and was a true leader of men. He was cool in the face of fire, always put his men's lives in front of his own, and was a great shot with his favorite weapon, a pistol.

Their was doubt that this was another rumor. However, it was true as the platoon started to leave, more fresh new men arrived at the front. Haus was relieved that he would be getting time off in the rear. He may even get to go to the town of Passchendaele, or Ypres. But then, he heard the sound. It was a terrible explosion, but the explosion came beneath the ground. It ripped up earth and flesh, and the world had seemed to come to an end.

Haus himself was almost to the rear when it happened, he survived the blast, but was covered in dirt and blood. He shouted "S**t, what the hell happened!?" it seemed the Devil himself came out to punish them. He found men, ripped apart by the explosion, and saw Baummer crawling, seemingly unhurt, but obviously shocked.

And then the guns started. Cannon fire shook the trench line, making already deep holes deeper. Then came the whistles. The sound of men yelling, as they charged up the ridge. The few combat ready Germans manned machine guns, and took up positions, firing. However, it was not enough. Haus picked up Baummer, who was futiley trying to stand. They managed to make their escape, almost unhurt, to a hastily made second line of defense. A Saxon officer helped them into a bunker. He asked, amazed, "What happened?" the only answer they could give was pointing at the trench, watching as British soldiers took it, and fired at retreating Germans below.

Haus's minutes of safety in the bunker did not last long, as he was immediately ordered back, manning a gun on the front of the new line. Baummer managed to get a hold of himself, and quickly shouted orders to the platoon. "Second platoon! Shout out your name so I know you're here!" Haus shouted out his, he was followed by another, two more, and then another again. "Is this all I have!?" Baummer shouted, amazed. Out of the whole platoon, in hours, only 6 men escaped unharmed.

[KarlXII]

Whistles sounded again, as Tommies, fresh from their easy victory, charged the new German line. "Right then! Second platoon, fire at will!" Baummer shouted, firing his pistol at the advancing Brits. Rifle fire erupted from the trench, a few machine guns started, and artillery fire hit the Tommies hard, their attack quickly folded.

Believing this to be an omen, Baummer shouted "Their on the run, lets get them boys!" as he hopped out of the trench towards the Ridge. Haus quickly followed, as did other men, soon the formal order of a charge sounded, and a large number of men ran across the dreaded No Mans Land, not one stopping for cover, as bullets rained down upon them.

Haus's chest hurt, he never ran so hard in his life. However, the charge hit the metaphorical brick wall, as it seemed the first line of men toppled over dead. One man fell onto Haus, as they both fell into a crater. The soldier was about 18, only a young lad. The kid looked up blankly, as if waiting for the hand of God to pick him up. Haus himself was hit by a round in the leg, and it was not until the adrenaline settled down and the Germans fell back that he realized it. He could not get up, and his comrades could not hear his shouts or pleas over the fire. All he could do now was wait........

He wondered if the Hand of God would show up.

[KarlXII]

Baummer made it back to the line, unscathed, though after a count, realized his platoon, his command, had ceased to exist. The same men he commanded at 2nd Ypres, was gone in a couple hours. And Private Haus. The kid had the potential to lead men. He was planning on making him a sergeant soon. However, the senslessness of war and death took that away.

But then he heard a noise.

It was a desperate plea, just thought to be another casualty. However, the man shouted out Baummers name. It was Haus. The kid was alive. But all Baummer could do was wait for the night, and attempt to get him back.

[KarlXII]

Baummer needed a plan, and he needed it fast. He chose 5 soldiers to accompony him to rescue Haus in No Mans Land. It would be simple, the cover of darkness, each man making sure to keep quiet. They would bring back the stranded comrade in a matter of minutes.

At the dead of midnight, they slipped under friendly wire, and crawled, rolling into every hole, making sure not to alert attention. They reached a semi deep hole, where Haus was in, he hadn't been shouting, and Baummer nudged him to wake him up. Haus awoke, obviously terrified, and almost shout out until Baummer put his hand on his mouth.

"Are you ok?" Baummer wispered.

"Nothing major, fragment wounds, stray bullet hit my arm" Haus replied.

Baummer gave him a pat on the soldier, and handed him a luger. He quickly, and silently, ordered the party to return to lines. However, an artillery shell landed behind them, throwing one of the crew into the air. Both trenches started to fire. Hell broke loose, and the rescue party was in the middle. They needed to get back home, in friendly lines, before the lucky shell landed on them. They started to crawl, quickly, under rifle fire. The crack of bullets rang over their heads.

They managed to reach their lines, and Haus was quickly sent to the aid station, and fighting died down. Baummer had done it, he got back the kid.

Now he had returned to trench life.

"Maybe crawling under a hail of bullets wasn't that bad. At least it wasn't boring." Baummer told one of the search party members.

It was common trench humor, not understood back in Germany, but known amongst comrade in arms.

[Monk]

Hello SwedishFish! I read your story about a week ago but kept my comments to myself as it did not seem you were going to continue it. I'm glad you've decided to keep posting, though

Please feel free to continue!

[KarlXII]

Haus's wounds were not bad enough to be sent home with, so he quickly found himself on the front again. He was promoted to Sergeant, and was the second in command to Baummer. His platoon was reorganized, and a whole new batch of recruits came in to fill the spots of the lost men at Messines. They came eagerly, swooped under the same dreams of grand adventure that overtook Haus and Baummer.

However, they quickly realized that life on the front was not as the politicians back home made it out to be. They lost their sense of heroics and adventure, and quickly became like everyone else, a trench soldier.

Haus was saddened to know they were never taught how to deal with frontline life, so he needed to give them a quick crash course. Everything they learned would be happening all around them, there were no simulations, no dud rounds. He, under artillery fire, shouted at the men about the best craters to hide in, how you can estimate the size and distance of a shell. Everything that was taught was meant to help them survive. Through the shells, bullets, rats, disease and filled pants, the recruits became soldiers, the boys into men.

However, there was no way of feeling remorse on the front, death was too common. He always heard the names the men in the platoon called him, how they said he was cold hearted and unkind. This was true, to an extent, as shown later in the day.

It was a normal routine at the front, artillery fire, maybe a charge, maybe a defense. However, one unlucky kid was unfortunate enough to peek above the line, and caught a bullet in his eye. The soldiers was obviously shocked, looking at Haus for assurance. All Haus could say was "This is why you NEVER stick your head over the trench" and he moved on to his routine patrol.

[Mek Simmur al Ragaski]

Great so far SwedishFish! My attention was solely placed on this extract, nice!

[KarlXII]

Baummer told Haus to put the men on high alert. To the officers, this was a case that needed attention, to the enlisted men, it meant something was about to go down. Watch was regulary switched every 2 hours, to make sure the men were fit and ready for anything. Leave, the one thing the men could look forward to, was suspended. Artillery was regulary fired. With the new hightened state of awareness, the men could do nothing they would regulary do. Haus used to walk across the line, maybe head to the rear artillery. Now, he was stuck in his dug out hole.

There were rumors of mutiny. Men in the platoon became tired of trench life, they wanted to go home. The only thing that stood in their way was the officers, and their capital punishment. The Company Commander ordered that any attempted mutiny or desertion was to be punished with the death sentence.

However, Haus was not quick to report this. The already demoralised men could not stand watching a comrade be shot by an officer. Haus would investigate into this, and evaluate wether or not this was serious enough to inflict capital punishment.

However, as soon as he was off to do his tasks, he heard a consistent, loud, barrage. Quickly, mounds of dirt were flying everywhere, and, as if rehearsed, the men got to safety. The barrage threw up anything, a trench wall was torn to pieces, wire flew by the men. This was one of the heaviest barrages Haus had faced. To add to the problem, small arms fire erupted.

Things started to break down, dugouts collapsed, craters were becoming the new cover, and the soldiers were losing it. Haus observed two men huddle in a crater, one got up, Haus did not know why, but he did not need to. The soldier quickly took a bullet, and landed next to the shocked comrade next to him. The other soldier snapped, and shouted "I got to get out of here!" and started to run to the rear. Amazingly, he dodged the artillery, which was seemingly dieing down.

Some men, including Haus, shouted for him to return. Some looked on silently. Haus was sure he heard cheers. However, a noticeable pistol shot rang out, and the fleeing man fell.

It was Baummer.

The lieutenant had inflicted capital punishment. No one said a word, as the barrage was ending. Men got out of cover, some were yelling for help. Haus looked around, and quickly the soldiers were rebuilding trenches, laying barbed wire, and digging buried friends.

Baummer had a casual look, as if nothing happened. One of the men cursed loudly, and with a seemingly animal look, tried to attack Baummer. Haus quickly tackled the attacker down. Baummer, with no emotion on his face, said "Sergeant Haus, get him to the Commander, he will decide what to do" and the lieutenant went to help some men rebuild a wall.

Haus kicked the subdued criminal, the man was no soldier anymore, he was now considered a criminal. After making sure he couldn't resist, Haus vegan to walk him to the Company Commanders HQ.

It was a pity, it wasn't the mans fault.

It was the damned war.

[KarlXII]

I really don't know what to write next.

I also haven't updated in a while because I don't know if anyone is still interested. Wat do you like about this story? What do I need to improve? What do you want to see?

[Tamur]

The action is very good. I like the realism and the attention you've put into drawing the two main characters.

If I had the chance to ask for something with this story, it would be 1) the addition of a third character significantly different from Haus and Baummer to create variety and different situations, 2) specifically non-combat situations in which characters, background, and motivation can come out more, and 3) some large view of what conflict these men are in, their part in in, where they are moving, osv -- I have a good idea of what's going on in their little area, and certainly that is all the average trench soldier would have known. But as a reader, I want to hear of something that will drive the story forward.

Hopefully some of that makes sense...?