Chapter 9
Slossshhh! I felt the right side of my face slide through wet mud. As my body finally came to a stop I saw Zack and P roll up next to me. Their faces were caked with mud.
“Where are we this time?” asked P.
“I have no idea.” I retorted as I looked around our muddy environment.
Zack added. “At least we’re together this time!”
I looked down at our clothes. We were all dressed in olive colored military-style jackets with matching pants made out of a scratchy stiff material. Zack and P wore olive colored caps that resembled train engineer’s caps. I reached up to feel my head and felt the same hat.
Just above P’s left breast pocket sat a blue rectangle with white letters that spelled out J. Douglas. Zack’s name tag read Z. Tucker. I looked down at my jacket, and I too, had a name tag. Mine read E. Douglas.
“Are we in the army? P asked.
“I think so,” responded Zack, “but where and when, I’m not sure.”
No one else was in the immediate vicinity and we sat in the mud for a few minutes, not sure what to do. The spot was quiet then suddenly out of the blue, we all heard “crash, pop, pop… kaboom”. An explosion lit up the sky in the distance, then smoke filled the air. Multiple explosions followed, then gunfire resonated throughout the area.
We ducked low, out of reflex, in response to fear. When I lifted my head, up I saw Zack frantically searching for clues to where we were. We were in a ditch with sides about four feet high that arose from a wet brown muddy floor. I could not see the end of the ditch but thought I could hear commotion towards one side.
“I think I hear voices.” I told Zack.
P agreed and nodded his head. “So do I.”
“Shhh,” Zack lowered his voice. “I think we are in a military trench. Hopefully we are in an American or British one, and not a German one. We must have been sent back to World War I! Let’s go see who else is here.”
We crawled on our bellies toward the voices. As we crept along a curve in the trench we saw five men dressed in fatigues. Two were positioned squatting with their backs against rows of wood and sticks that made up the posterior of the trench, their mud covered boots tucked under their haunches. Sandbags lined the opposite side where three other soldiers stood.
One thin man wearing a heavy olive jacket stood with his body pressed up against the sandbags, holding a rifle over his right shoulder. He had pouches hanging from both sides of a leather belt tied around his waist. He reached into one of the pouches and pulled out what looked like bullets. He loaded them into the rifle then fffft. A shot rang out amongst the tumult out in front of the trench. He continued his job until he had to reload again.
To his right, a stockier man dressed in the same kind of jacket crouched down on a small ledge near the top of the trench. In front of him sat a larger gun on a thick metal pedestal. It looked like a small cannon. Beside him, another man, much taller and thinner, stood and held tightly to the base of the gun. The stocky soldier held on to handles attached to the back of the gun. Pow, pow, pow! He steered the gun in an arc as the bullets flew out rapidly towards the enemy. After a few minutes, he had run out of bullets. He paused but still held onto the gun. The thinner man reached down, grabbed a long strip of ammunition and attached it to the gun. The firing started again.
As we crawled forward we scanned the rest of the area. A few canteens rested on the ground at the men’s feet. Strange masks with large metal rimmed eyes and elongated nosed were lined up against the wall.
“What are those?” I whispered to Zack.
“I think those are gas masks.” He replied. “It was common for the Germans to use mustard gas as a weapon.”
“They sprayed the armies with mustard? Why would they do that?” P asked. “That sounds silly!”
“Oh no, honey.” I replied. “They just called it that. It’s actually a gas that makes people very sick.”
“Oh, how scary! Those poor men.” P looked very concerned.
We had been able to rise to a seated position, as the trench walls became higher where we were. One of the men crouching against the wall noticed us.
He looked inquisitively at the three of us. “Hey, are you new to the regiment? I haven’t seen you before.”
Zack cleared his throat and spoke first. “I am, um, Officer Zachary Tucker. This is Officer James Douglas and this is, er um, Officer Edward Douglas. They are brothers.”
I was taken aback at my name change then I remembered that women did not fight in the trenches during World War I. I held out my hand towards the man.
“Hello,” he replied and shook my hand. “I’m Captain David Simmons. Welcome to my battalion. This here is Lieutenant Jason Miller. The chubby guy over there at the machine gun is Tom Snood and the skinny guy is Peter Rich. Andy Carmen is shooting over there. Good to meet you guys. I heard we were getting some reinforcements, but I didn’t know when. Just be patient and I’ll put you guys to work soon. We are waiting for our runner to bring us some more ammunition.”
The lieutenant Jason scanned P up and down. “Um, James, aren’t you a little small for a soldier? How’d you get into the army?” He scowled at us.
I could see P’s wheels turning. His imagination was working. “Well, I’m actually a lot older than I look. I am really 18 years old.” He paused, wrinkled his brow and twisted his mouth to the side as he thought. I have an illness that makes me stay small. Other than that I am fit as a fiddle and very, very intelligent. I have a high IQ.” At that he tapped his head twice with his index finger. “The government wanted me because I was so smart and so small. They thought I could fit through small spaces in case they needed a spy!”
We held our breaths as the soldiers took in this information. Jason responded first, “Why are you out here with us if you are a spy and why don’t you have a higher rank?”
P had answers for everything today. “They wanted me to learn the ropes out in the field first, before they put me to work as a spy. Because my sis, er um, brother was in this regimen I ended up here.”
Jason rubbed the stubble on his chin as he contemplated P’s story. “Okaaay,” he said slowly. “Welcome to our trench. Hopefully the runner will be back soon with ammunition. We will be running out soon.” He nodded his head slightly, but I could see that he wasn’t entirely accepting of P’s story. He went back to what he was doing.
The three of us stood beside the men waiting for David to put us to work. The rifle kept going off and the machine gun continued its rattattat. I watched the scene in front of me. Tom and Andy continued their shooting. Peter supplied Tom’s machine gun with ammunition. Jason was preparing the long strips of bullets for Andy.
As we stood there, I could see another group of soldiers some ways down the trench. They ran another large machine gun that looked like a cannon sitting on the edge of the trench. One man would fill the huge gun with the mortar then stand back. Another man pulled a lever at the back and quickly crouched down with his hands over his head. Whzzzzz…….boom! I could see dirt fly high into the air. The ground shook. Then there was a few minutes of silence before a high pitched noise came from the other side.
“Down!” yelled David.
We all lied down on the ground and covered our heads with our arms. Whzzzzz….. Boom! The bomb landed very close to our trench. Dust flew again, up into the air and over our heads. My heart was beating out of my chest and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. We remained motionless on the ground.
Finally, David yelled, “Clear!”
I heard the other soldiers start to shuffle back up to their positions. I turned my head slowly to the right, wiped the brown dirt out of my eyes and saw that Zack and P were attempting to get up. I relaxed a bit, rolled over to my side, and managed to stand up next to them. The three of us brushed ourselves off. We must have looked shaken.
Andy nodded his chin in our direction. “You get used to that. Just make sure you get down and cover your head. Once you’ve been ou
t on the lines for weeks like we have, this kind of stuff is old hat. The goal is to just stay alive.”
I tried to get my wits about me. Here we were again, in a situation where we were facing danger and had to keep ourselves alive. I turned to Zack, “What do we do now? We are in the middle of a war.”
He touched my arm. “What can we do? We can’t leave until the book thinks we’re ready. You know there is something that we have to accomplish while we’re here. Let’s try the book when everyone else is busy again.”
I nodded okay as I reached for the book in the bag I had hidden under my jacket. I felt the hard edge of the binding through the cloth and felt a small sense of security. At least we had a way out, not like these men who had to keep fighting. I admired them for their courage, and wished I had a little more myself. Zack and I stood behind Andy as he fired and P stayed against the back of the trench out of the way.
Jason looked at P. “Hey kid, you can help me get what ammunition we have left ready for the machine gun.”
P moved toward Jason hesitantly not sure if he could trust him or not.
Jason reached out and shook P’s hand. “Good to meet ya. Where do you hail from?”
P’s poor eight year old brain was a little confused but then he figured out the question. “Well, my brother, um Edward, and I grew up in Ohio.” He muffled a snicker as he referred to me as his brother. “We started out near the city but recently ended up in the country in an old farm house that we fixed up.” P looked proud of himself as he told his story.
Jason responded, “I’m from Pennsylvania myself. Born and raised on a farm. Wakin’ up to the rooster’s crow, milkin’ the cows early in the morning, plowing the fields the rest of the day. I gotta sweetheart back home, too.” He pulled out a faded photograph that was well worn along the edges. “This is Sarah. We grew up together. We’re gonna get married when I get home.” He smiled as he thought about her. “So, do you have a girl back home?”
P’s mouth dropped open. He still thought that girls were gross and wanted to say “no-way”, but thought that Jason may not understand. “Uh, no man, I didn’t want to have to leave anyone behind when I came here. No girlfriends for me!” He tried not to make a gagging face as he thought about girls. Oh ,gross!
“Okay James, take these bullets and pile them up by Tom, behind the machine gun.”
As P went to work, Jason continued to talk with him. “So, is your family still back in Ohio? Besides your brother, that is.”
P wrinkled his brow and seemed pensive. As pensive as an eight year old can be. He thought a minute. “Well, my mom and dad still live in the farm house. We’ve always been close. We’ve been gone so long. I’m really starting to miss them.” Tears started to well up in his eyes, but he held them back.
Jason must have seen P’s emotion. “I know how ya feel. I miss Sarah so much, but I also miss my dad. He raised me after my mother died from cancer. I was 13 when she passed and I wanted to drop out of school, and life for that matter. I didn’t want to work on the farm anymore. At first I stopped doing my homework, then I just quit going to school. My dad was so sad in the beginning that he just didn’t care and we began to drift apart. Finally one day he sat me down and talked to me.”
“He said, ‘Son, your mom would be so proud of you if you could graduate from high school. I know how hard it is. I miss her so much, but we have to go on without her. We have to live our lives. If you don’t want to work on the farm, that’s okay. I can hire some help so I can keep my head above water. Your schoolwork comes first. What do ya say, son? Can you do it for your mom?’”
“I remember breaking down in front of him and then he started to cry. I’ll never forget that day. I went back to school, started making good grades and I graduated. I wish my mom could have been there to see me though. My plan was to go to college, study agriculture and business, and come back to the farm to help my dad. Then this ‘War to End all Wars’ came along. When I heard about the French and English soldiers that were losing their lives, I just had to join the army and help. I thought my dad would be angry, but when I told him, he had tears in his eyes. He said ‘Son, I am so proud of you and I know your mother would be too!’ And… here I am in the trenches trying to stay alive. And kid, that’s my story. What’s yours?”
P looked overwhelmed, but opened his mouth as if to start relating his own story. He was suddenly interrupted by a man’s voice from across the field in front of us. “I’m coming with ammunition reinforcements!”
We saw a thin man running toward us with two bags draped over each shoulder. Suddenly we heard the familiar whizzing noise coming closer and closer.
We didn’t know, but as we watched the injured soldier, Jason had left his post and was running out into “no man’s land” to retrieve the bags of ammunition. Zack and P looked up just as Jason grabbed the bags, but as he took his first step back toward the trench he stopped and clutched his left leg. As he drew his hands back up we could see that they were dripping with blood. He had been hit by enemy fire. He tried to hold onto the containers as he limped, but it was slow going. David began to scurry up the side of the trench to come to his aid. Just as David took a step onto the flat soil, we heard the buzzing sound of enemy bombs flying through the air.
“Down!” David yelled.
We flattened ourselves in the prone position and covered our heads. After the dust had cleared, we were able to move back to the edge of the trench and search for Jason.
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I heard P yell, “Noooo!”
Jason was lying face down in the mud, motionless. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. I heard P catch his breath beside me then all of a sudden he took off. Before I could stop him he had scaled the side of the trench and was running towards Jason. When he got to him, he squatted down, grabbed him under the arms and pulled as hard as he could. Jason’s limp body moved forward only slightly, but P kept pulling with all his might.
“Zack, do something!” I exclaimed. “P needs your help. You help him drag Jason to safety and I’ll get the ammunition sacks. Go now!”
We both scurried up the side of the trench. Zack ran to the left and grabbed Jason’s right arm, while P had his left arm. His body started to move forward more quickly and they were able to drag it all the way to the trench. As they did that, I ran to the right and retrieved the bullets. I could hear the sounds of the machine guns behind me and I ran as fast as I could.
Zack and P had Jason back in the trench when I arrived, and David was tending to his wounds. Jason was slowly coming to as David wrapped thick gauze around his left calf. It quickly became soaked with blood. Jason’s eyes finally opened and he saw the blood dripping from his leg.
“W-what happened?” He asked. “I remember running out to grab the ammunition then it’s all fuzzy after that.”
David held his friend’s hand. “You were hit by machine gun fire and you almost made it back safely but then a bomb exploded behind you. The shockwave knocked you out!”
Jason shook his as if to clear it. “How did I get back here? Someone must have dragged me into the trench.”
David nodded. “Yeah, that little guy over there did.” He pointed at P. “Well, with a little help from his friend. They ran out through the fire before anyone could stop them. They saved your life.”
Jason turned his head to P and patted him on the head. “Thank you my little friend.”
“Aw, it was nothing,” P replied, and smiled.
Jason’s eyes were closing again. P looked at David. “Will he be okay?”
David sighed, “Well it looks like the bleeding from his leg wound is finally stopping. Hopefully he didn’t lose too much blood. We need to get him to the army hospital. It may take him a while to recover from the blast. He may have a concussion. Only time will tell.”
“At least he’s alive.” Zack chimed in.
I stayed quiet during this exchange. I was stunned by the whole situation. We had learned about wars
in school but I never realized how terrifying it was to be out in a battle. I stood back as a medic team placed Jason on a stretcher and carried him away down the narrow pathway of the trench.
I noticed P had tears in his eyes. “He’ll be all right,” I said hopefully.
P shook off the tears. “I know. It’s just that he has to be able to get back home. He needs to help his dad with the farm. He needs to get home to Sarah, his sweetheart.”
I wanted to hug him but knew I couldn’t in front of the soldiers. “Oh, P, maybe we just need to have a little faith.”
At that moment, there was an onslaught of bombs and gunfire. Tom and Peter prepared the machine gun. David ran to take over the rifle, while Andy prepared the ammunition. Bullets were flying everywhere, dust and dirt filled the air as bombs landed and the sky began to fill with flashes of light.
The three of us stood against the back of the trench, out of the way. The soldiers were too busy to notice us. We thought we would get in the way if we tried to help. As I contemplated what to do, I felt the bag under my jacket get heavier. Was the book trying to get my attention?
I cautiously pulled the bag out from under my arm. The rectangular shape inside felt warm and I could see a faint glow through the fabric. I pulled the book out of its hiding place. It was so hot that I dropped it to the ground.
As we watched, the cover began to bubble like the top of a pot full of boiling water. Blub…blub…blub. The bubbles grew and then shrank again. As the face of the book bubbled and popped, a word started to come into view. “STRENGTH.” Then a powerful breeze blew the book open and a few pages fluttered in the air.
Polka dots flashed at various corners of the page, then disappeared like blinking Christmas lights. They continued to appear, then fade away. With each blink, more dots stayed on the page. The dots began to form letters, then words.
P looked down and began to read aloud. “Hide your fears and be brave. Use your strength to move forward. The life you save may bring you home.”
He had just enough time to exclaim, “It’s about me!” before the book slammed shut.
After a moment, it became engulfed in a low fog and we lost sight of it. As we stood back against the wall of the trench, we could see the soldiers continuing to do their duty. Soon, however, they became lost to our eyes as the fog moved between us.
As we watched, the fog swirled up into a circle in front of us. At first, the center was filled with the thick mist, but as it subsided a hole began to form. Tentacles of water vapor formed and emerged from the center of the circle. They seemed to beckon us forward like hands. Above the top arc of the circle, we could see flashes of light from explosions outside of the trench.
Zack looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Let’s get out of here!”
“I agree!” I responded excitedly.
P already held my right hand tightly, and Zack grabbed my other hand. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes as a reflex, and jumped with the two of them. I felt each boy grasp my hands more tightly and we floated in silent space.