No-Man's Land

6:00 A.M 1917, Western Front, France

I was awoken, by a loud noise inside our dugout. I sat up in my cot, and scratched my head, which by now was infected with lice, as was the other soldier’s hair. I looked around our cramped dark dugout, and soon found the source of the noise; it was a large trench rat. I shuddered a bit, because I remembered the sight of those rats, climbing over the corpses of our fallen comrades. I felt around in the darkness, to try to find something to throw at the rat, but before I could, our platoon sergeant, Sgt. Sparrow, stepped into our dugout. With a loud booming voice, he shouted, “Wake up, all men report to the trenches for stand-to”. At that moment, everyone started to stir, most of them grunting and groaning. We usually only get five hours of sleep, due to mid-night sentry duty, and or artillery barrages from the Germans. I stood up and grabbed my webbing, which was a type of military backpack, made of sturdy canvas, and contained many of my belongings, such as my clothing, photographs, and a two month old newspaper, from my hometown in New Berlin. It also contained my ammunition, bayonet, and my canteen. I reached inside and grabbed my threadbare puttees, and wrapped them around my ankles, and up to my knees. They were cloth strips made of made of wool, and were helpful, because they kept my legs warm, and they also kept my trousers from being torn. I grabbed my standard bolt-action rifle, and my helmet, and walked over to my friend, who was from my hometown as well, he was having trouble putting on his puttees. I knelt in front of him, and helped him wrap his puttees around his legs. “Thanks pal, I appreciate it”, he said with a soft smile on his face. I nodded, and then chuckled, thinking back to when we were both kids, and he couldn’t get his fishing line hooked onto the rod, and he was getting it all tangled up, and was having a terrible time. “What’s so funny?” he asked, “Oh nothing” I replied, “Just thinking about that time we went fishing, remember?” he looked at me, and laughed. “Yea I remember, I got that fishing line stuck around my wrists, so tightly we had to use pliers to get it off”. We sat and thought about that for a few moments, but soon the thundering voice of our platoon sergeant, brought us back from our trip down memory lane. “ I hate to interrupt your proposal private, but this is not a chapel, now get out there for stand-to” I looked and saw that I was still knelt down, so I quickly stood up and looked at my platoon sergeant. “Sorry sir, it wasn’t what it looked like” I started to explain, but I was quickly cut off by my platoon sergeant, “I don’t want to hear excuses, just get out there on the double!!”
“Yes sir” I replied, and with that the sergeant stepped back out. I then looked back at Robert, and said plainly “Well, lets go” and then Robert and I stepped outside our dugout, and made out way to the forward trenches. Once we got there, we could see men were already lined up on the fire-steps, with rifles in hand. As I walked along the duckboards, which were wooden planks, laid along the inside of our trenches, to provide extra footing in case it was muddy, slippery, or wet which it usually was. I stepped up onto the fire-steps, alongside a young soldier, who was literally falling asleep standing up. I shook him a little, and he lifted his head up, and he nodded to me, just as our platoon sergeant walked along behind us. I looked out into No-Man’s Land and saw nothing, except a few twisted trees, and a few shell craters. All I could hear was the howling of the brisk winter wind, and the occasional cough of a soldier. A few minutes later, the call was sounded for all of us to stand-down, as it was clear that the Germans were not going to attack, at least not this early. So for now, we could focus on the most important aspect of the day; breakfast. So we returned to our dugout, and I walked over to my cot, and took my webbing off my shoulders and set it down on the floor, and opened it up, and took out a couple of hard biscuits, and a can of Tickler’s plum and apple jam, which I might add, tastes nothing like plum and apple at all. I looked around our dugout, and saw that same damn rat; I just shook my head, and went back to eating. Apparently, someone else had seen the rat, and was sneaking up on it with bayonet in hand. In one swift movement, he lunged at the rat and drove his bayonet deep into his back, and skewered it. He lifted the dead rat up, which was still stuck to the bayonet, into the air, and said with a slight chuckle, “Anyone up for barbeque?” at this remark, several soldiers had looks of disgust on their faces. The soldier that had stabbed the rat, just laughed and walked to the door of our dugout, and threw the corpse of the rat out the doorway. I had finished eating, and laid down on my cot, to catch a few minutes of shut-eye. This however, was not meant to be, because a few minutes after I had settled down, and drifted off to sleep, our platoon sergeant, Thomas Sparrow, walked into our dugout, and shouted “Henry, I need you and Fennig on sentry duty, now move!” Sentry duty is the daily routine of sitting in the trenches, usually for hours on end. The whole experience is nerve racking, because the slightest noise, such as the snapping of a branch, or the scuttling of a rat, could trick your brain into thinking that there is a German patrol, or attack happening, when in fact it is nothing to worry about at all. Robert and I, sat in the trenches, and were trying our best to keep warm, when we heard the familiar howl of incoming artillery. Instinctively, Robert and I, dropped down onto the duckboards of the trench, as the shells started to land all around us. Then almost instantly, they stopped, and I peered over the top of the parapet.
As I looked out into No Man’s Land, I saw a fog-like vapor, beginning to drift across No Man’s Land, towards our trench, with the wind. The vapor cloud continued to grow, and finally the order was given to put on our gas masks. I grabbed the pouch that held my gas mask, and motioned for Robert to do the same. Gradually, the vapor enveloped us, and the toxic combination of chlorine and phosgene, poured into our trench line. I sat against the inner wall of our trench, and breathed softly through my gas mask, as the vapors swirled around Robert and I. In basic training, we were taught about the infamous German gas attacks, and of their effects, which include burning of the eyes, swelling of the throat, and congestion of the lungs which leads to eventual death. Eventually, our platoon sergeant, Thomas Sparrow, walked down the trench line to inspect the troops. “ How are you two doing?” he asked in a muffled voice through his gas mask. “Were doing fine sir,” I said softly.
“Well stay sharp, the krauts could attack any moment now”, he then looked over the parapet into No Man’s Land, and then walked on. After a while, the gas dissipated and the “All-Safe” was sounded, and all along the line soldiers were removing their gas masks, with a combination of cursing and laughing. As I removed my gas mask, I saw a glint of something out in No Man’s Land. I stuffed my gas mask into its pouch at my waist, and tried to see if I could get a better look at what was out there. I readjusted my helmet, and peered over the top of the parapet. When I looked over the top, I saw a watch on the wrist of a dead German soldier, and by the looks of it, it was a valuable one. I thought to myself, and pondered with the thought of climbing over the top of the parapet, and going to get the watch. I then remembered about a week ago, a young private tried to get a pack of smokes out of the pocket, of a German soldier, but instead of smokes, he got a bullet from a German sniper. I shook my head and tried to forget that memory, as I sat back down on the fire-steps across from Robert. “What’s up Dave?” asked Rob,
“Oh it was nothing, just a watch on a kraut’s wrist, its nothing to worry about” I replied. Obviously someone worried, because there was a rustling noise, and suddenly, and young soldier, who must’ve lied about his age, because he looked to be only sixteen. He had climbed out of our trench, and was heading towards the watch. I stared in shock, as the kid walked right out into the middle of No-Man’s Land. I screamed at him, “Get back here, you idiot!” and the young soldier turned, and as soon as he did, a gunshot rang out from the German line, and the soldier was shot right in the back of the neck. I shut my eyes and shuddered, as I heard the soldier fall to the ground. I opened my eyes slowly, and I heard a groan, and gurgling sounds, as I was sure the young soldier, was choking on his own blood, as he lay there dying. I heard gasping noises, and more gurgling, and I clenched a huge chunk of mud in my hands, “Cant you at least put him out of his misery, you pigs!” I cursed softly to myself as I listen to the suffering of the dying soldier. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I raised my rifle and aimed it at the soldier, and ever so gently, my finger pulled on the trigger, and the rifle fired. Almost as suddenly as the rifle jerked back, did the sounds of agony cease, and then once again, all that was heard was the howl of the bitter winter wind. After I had fired the rifle, I slid down the inner wall of the trench, and buried my face in my hands, and began to sob. Just then, our platoon sergeant came running up with two other men. “What was all the shooting about?” he asked frantically, he then looked towards Robert and I, for an explanation. “I asked you a question!” he shouted, with a slight tone of anger in his voice. Finally, Robert broke the silence, and said plainly, “Dave had to shoot one of our men sir, and he was young, he was much too young”. He looked at me, with a concerned look in his eye, “Did private Henry, have a reason for shooting that man?” he asked plainly. “Well he was suffering, we had to shoot him”, the sergeant nodded, and then looked at me, and said softly “Henry, Fennig, you two are dismissed, private Jennings, and private Sanderson are gonna take your places, now move out!” Robert grabbed his rifle, and stood up, but when he noticed I wasn’t moving, he rested a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped a little but then stood up, and together we made our way back to our dugout. As we stepped into our dugout, the laughter and chatter of our fellow soldiers could be heard resonating throughout the dugout. I just walked over to my cot, and laid down and shortly after, I fell asleep. About an hour later, a large explosion, and several shouts awaked me. I grabbed my helmet, and rifle, and ran out of the dugout, and went to find my platoon sergeant. As I rounded a bend in the trench, an enemy shell hit the side of the parapet right beside me, causing rock and mud to slam into the side of my arm. Which caused it to get gashed up pretty badly, and it just knocked me goofy for a few moments. After a few moments, I stood back up, and grabbed my rifle along with my helmet, which had fallen off my head; I swiftly put it back onto my head and stepped up onto the fire-steps.
Shortly after I did, the shelling stopped, and out of the smoke, came several advancing German soldiers. I raised my rifle, and aimed at the incoming soldiers, and opened fire. Shortly after I started firing, Robert came and joined me on the fire-steps, and all along the line, rifles and machine-guns were roaring to life, dropping wave upon wave of German soldiers, as they approached our barbed wire line. Soon the bodies of dead and dying German soldiers began to pile up in front of the barbed wire. Eventually, the Germans began to retreat, and the order was given to fix bayonets, and charge. I reached down and grabbed my bayonet, and attached it to the barrel of my rifle, and stepped over the top of the parapet. All along our line, soldiers were stepping out of the trenches, and were starting to chase down the retreating German soldiers. As we chased down the Germans, I could hear several soldiers letting out war cries. Finally, the Germans reached their own trench line, and the clatter of their rifles and machine-guns could be heard, as they began to shoot down our pursuing forces. As soon as I realized what was happening, I grabbed Robert by the arm, and started to pull him back to our trench line. As Robert and I began to retreat along with the other soldiers, I could hear the screams of the men getting shot and our dying. When we finally made it back to our trench line, I looked back into no-man’s land, and saw a soldier that was crawling, or at least trying to crawl back to our trench line. Already the Germans were trying to finish off the soldier, because simultaneously bullets were hitting the ground around the soldier. Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I called for covering fire, and all along the line rifles started firing on the German trench line. I then stepped out of our trench, and made my way over to the wounded soldier. When I got to him, I lifted him up over my shoulder and started to carry him back to our line. As I returned, I could hear the clacking of German rifles firing at me, and as I got closer to our line, I could hear bullets zipping past my head from both sides. When I got back to our line, Robert helped me lower the wounded man down into the trench. I then climbed down into the trench, and sat down on the fire-steps, and a stretcher-bearer came and picked up the wounded man, and carried him back to the rear trenches. Even while I sat there, enemy fire kept hitting the sandbags, and I squeezed my eyes shut, and soon Sgt. Sparrow came and gave Robert and the men and I permission to return to our dugout for some rest. As Robert and I stepped into the dugout, we saw an officer handing out mail, and the officer walked up and handed me a package. I took it from him, and nodded and went and sat down on my cot. I slowly opened it, and Robert walked over and sat beside me, and said with a grin “What did you get”, I looked at him, and shrugged, and said “I don’t know, I haven’t opened it yet” and then I looked back down at the package. “Well open it” said Robert, I nodded and opened the seal on the package, and opened it up, and inside were a few pairs of socks, a newspaper, a new razor, some shaving crème, and a letter from my family. I smiled, and took the letter in my hand, and opened it, and started to read it, “Dear David, How are you, We are doing fine here, your father is still working hard at the factory, we think about you every day, and pray for your safety, I hope the package found you safe and well. Just last week, we had a big storm, and the elm in the backyard came down, sorry to say your tree house was smashed, but me and your sister cleaned up the wreckage and started a garden. Well we hope to hear from you soon, take care. Love, Mom”. I set the letter down by my side, and laid back on my cot, and closed my eyes, said goodnight to Robert, and fell asleep. The next morning, we were awoken by our platoon sergeant, and told to form up on the fire-steps for stand-to. I scratched my head, and grabbed my rifle and helmet, put on my threadbare puttees, and formed up on the fire-steps with the rest of my platoon. I clutched my rifle firmly in my hands, and adjusted my helmet, and peered over the top of the parapet. It was bitterly cold, and my breath came out in soft puffs. Just then I felt a rain drop land on my helmet, with a plink, and then another, and soon after it started pouring.
The cold rain, combined with the bitter winter wind, was almost unbearable. Still, we stood upon the fire-steps, and awaited orders. “Damn it’s cold,” said one soldier whom was shuddering as the rain poured down over his helmet. As the rain kept pouring, it became clearer that the Germans were not going to attack. “C’mon, their not going to attack, lets just get out of this rain” said another soldier, I knew that the soldiers were getting restless, but we had to stay on stand-to until the order was given to stand down. The rain just kept pouring down in torrents, and mud was pouring into our trench. Finally, our platoon sergeant came walking up. He walked down along behind us, saying his usual words of encouragement, as we waited for a German attack, that usually never came. Finally, the order was given to stand down by whistle, and we were dismissed back to our dugouts. I shouldered my rifle, and stepped down off the fire-steps, and onto the duckboards, and made our way back to our dugout. When I arrived back at our dugout, the morning’s rum ration was being passed out. When some was offered to me, I just shook my head, and the officer that was passing out the rum, looked at me skeptically. “You don’t drink soldier?” he asked, I looked at him and said simply, “No I don’t” he just shrugged and walked off, and I went over and sat beside Rob. I lightly pounded my fist on his shoulder, and he looked up from what he was eating, and smiled. “What’s up Dave?” he asked with a bit of biscuit in his mouth. “Nothing just saying hi” I replied,
“Oh okay hi” he replied, just then a soldier came over with a cigarette in his mouth, and asked if I had a light. I just shook my head, and said, “Sorry, I don’t smoke”, he looked at me like I was speaking a different language, “Come again?” he asked. I just looked at him, and making sure I spoke very clearly, I said, “I don’t smoke”,
“How long have you been here?” he asked as he sat down on a makeshift chair made out of sandbags. “I’ve been here for six months” I replied,
“Six months eh, most men have been here for two months, and they are already smoking” he said as he looked towards me. “I myself, have been here for seven months” he said with a slight grin on his face, “And I have seven Kaisers under my belt” he then threw down his cigarette, and stomped it out. He looked towards me again, and said “ My name is Andrew, by the way, Andrew Jackson” almost after he said that, Robert and I, burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” he asked. I looked at him again and said, “It’s just your name”
“What about my name” he asked,
Robert spoke up finally, “Your named after the second president right?”
“Yea I am” replied Andrew,
“Well it was nice meeting you” I said
“Yea you too” replied Jackson. Just then, our platoon sergeant stepped in, and walked straight over to me. “Private Henry, may I speak to you”
“Uh yes sir” I replied, and I nodded to Rob and Andrew, and walked over to Sparrow. “I hear talk, that you organized the rescue of one of your fallen comrades” he said. I then looked at my sergeant, and nodded gently, and replied softly, “Yes sir, I did”. Sparrow nodded, and said, “Well private, you are to be commended for your deed, as well as promoted to the rank of corporal,” he said with a smile. I nodded and smiled as sparrow shook my hand. “Now I would like to speak with you,” he said. I blinked in confusion, as my platoon sergeant, walked me into the corner of the dugout. Sergeant Sparrow looked at me and said, “We are planning a trench raid tonight” he said quietly. My heart sank, as those words left his lips, for I knew what it meant. It was the dangerous task of sneaking into the German trench line, for intelligence, or prisoners, and sometimes both. It was a highly risky operation, which usually resulted in heavy casualties, and I was nowhere near keen on going. “Why are you telling me this sir?” I asked,
“Because I want you to go on tonight’s raid,” he replied. I took a step back, and nearly fell over, and asked with a hint of fear in my voice, “Why me sir?”
“Because you know what you are doing out there Henry, and I need you on tonight’s raid” he said with a tone of sincerity in his voice. I looked at him again, and nodded and said solemnly, “I will go on tonight’s raid, but I highly doubt you will see me alive again”, and with that, I walked back over to my cot and sat down. That night, at about eleven o’ clock, I walked out into the trenches, and met up with my platoon sergeant to prepare for the trench raid. I smeared burnt cork on my face, and looked down the row of soldiers that were going on the raid. Some men were loading their rifles, applying cork to their faces, and fixing bayonets to the end of their rifles. Sparrow walked past me, and looked over the top of the parapet, and gave us the signal and then all of us climbed over the top of the parapet, and out into No Man’s Land. The wind was howling as we made our way to the German line, and when we were about halfway across No Man’s Land, a flare was launched into the air from the German trench line. The sky was suddenly lit as clear as day, and we dropped to the ground. I was sure the German’s could see us, and I waited for the inevitable sting of the German machine guns, but surprisingly nothing happened. We waited for what seemed like hours, pressed against the ground, waiting for the flare to burn down, so we could continue our advance. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we made it to the German barbed wire. Sparrow looked back at one of the soldiers that was with us, and told him to bring up the wire cutters. As I lay there in the dirt amongst the scattered remains of rifles, and men, I looked at the barbed wire, and saw several tin cans hung on the wire. I noticed this just as the soldier was about to cut the wire. I rushed forward, and grabbed the arm of the soldier, and pointed out the tin cans, and he nodded. Soon after, Sgt. Sparrow came forward, wondering about the hold-up. When I informed him of the cans, he told me and a couple other soldiers, to try and find another way through the wire. So slowly and carefully me and the other couple soldiers, made our way down the German barbed wire. Soon, we found a portion of the wire, that had been destroyed by shelling, and I turned around, and waved to Sparrow, and soon after, he and the other soldiers grouped up with us, and we made our way into the German trench line. Once we were inside the trench, were started to work our way down it, and soon we came upon the entrance of a German dugout. Inside the dugout, we could hear the voices of German soldiers, so two by two, we lined up on the doorway of the dugout. I looked over at Sparrow, and he motioned for me to enter the dugout, so I took a deep breath, cocked my rifle, and stepped into the dugout. Almost immediately, the five or so German soldiers surrendered, and the rest of our men stepped into the dugout. Sparrow stepped forward, and told the soldiers to shut up in German, and they did. Sparrow told me to grab any papers I could find, and guard the entrance, while he and the others rounded up the prisoners. I walked over to a table, and grabbed a whole bunch of papers, and stuffed them into my pockets, and then moved to the entrance of the dugout. A few second later, a couple of German soldiers who were still armed, came walking down the trench down toward the dugout. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I stepped halfway back into the dugout. I leaned my head back, and said softly, “Sir we got company, and they brought their fireworks”, and I clutched my rifle close to my chest. Then Sparrow walked up to my side, and asked softly, “How many?” I looked at him and said with a hint of fear in my voice, “three”. He nodded, and motioned for a couple soldiers, to stand on either side of the entrance of he dugout. I stood back in the shadows, and looked down the sight of my rifle. As the Germans stepped into the dugout, I rested my finger upon the trigger, and prepared to fire. However, before I could, the two soldiers jumped the three German soldiers, and tried to take them down. Then suddenly, there was a gunshot, and saw one of our men fall. As soon as I saw that, I threw away the strategy of stealth, and fired on the kraut. Before I realized I had done it, I put one ragged bloody hole, into the German soldier. Wounded, the German fell onto the floor of the dugout, and howled in pain. I then ran over to my fallen comrade, who lay on the floor bleeding, and more than likely dying. I knelt down beside him, and my heart sank when I saw who it was. “Jackson, my god, are you okay” I said with a hint of fear in my voice, he looked up at me, and his eyes looked glazed. “Dave, I…I cant feel my legs” he said in a slight whimper, I looked at him and nodded, “Sergeant, I need help!” I screamed, and shortly after I did, Sparrow came rushing over.
Together, Sgt. Sparrow and I lifted Jackson off of the floor of the dugout, and started to carry him out of the dugout. “Hold on Jackson, you’ll be okay” I reassured him, then suddenly several German soldiers, who had heard the shooting, came rushing down the trench line towards the dugout. I motioned for the other two soldiers in our group, to go out into the trench and stop the advancing Germans. I then stepped out into the trench, and drew a bead on the head of an advancing German, who had a bayonet, fixed on the end of his rifle. I gently squeezed the trigger, and the Springfield jerked back against my shoulder, and a bullet embedded itself in the German’s head. After a quick splash of blood, the German crashed backwards onto the duckboards of the trench. I stepped back into the trench, and Sparrow was applying first aid to Jackson. It was at that moment, that I was afraid that we were not going to be able to get back to our line and save Jackson. I knelt down, and slung Jackson’s now limp body over my shoulder, and started to carry him out of the dugout, while the shootout between our raiding squad and the German soldiers raged onward. I climbed out of the trench, and whistled over to Sparrow, as I grabbed a grenade. After a few more rifle shots, the rest of our squad climbed out of the trench along with Sparrow, and together, we made our way back to our own trench line. Before we could reach the barbed wire, their machine gun crews opened fire on us, and began spraying bullets at us. I slid into a shell crater, and shortly after, Sparrow joined me. I pulled the arming pin out of the grenade, and lobbed it into the German trench line. Shortly after, the grenade blew up, and the groans and cries of pain from the dying German soldiers could be heard. Taking advantage of the situation, Sparrow and me climbed out of the crater, and started to dash towards our trench line while gunshots kept ringing out behind us. However, by the time we made it back to our trench, Private Jackson had already died, he had bled to death. Before we could even mourn the death of Jackson, the sound of incoming artillery fire, sprang us right back into action. While the medics covered up Jackson’s body, we raced back to our dugout, while the murderous rain of artillery fire, continued to hammer down on our sector. Just as I stepped into the dugout, a shell hit the roof, and dirt and rock crumbled onto our steel helmets. our dugouts are bomb proof, and are usually dug to be a few feet underground, so if a shell hit it, we wouldn’t be harmed, but it still scared the hell out of us. I sat against the wall, and held my helmet firmly on my head, as the shells continued to fall all around our sector, causing a sound like thunder. A few seconds later, the artillery barrage ended, and all was quiet again, but suddenly, a whistle blew, and the soldiers rushed out of their dugouts, for we knew what the whistle meant, a German attack. We rushed along the trench, and grouped up two by two, along the fire-steps, and took aim at the oncoming German soldiers. I looked down the line, and all along it, men were cocking rifles, fixing bayonets, and machine-gunners were preparing to fire. Our platoon sergeant stepped onto the fire-steps beside me, and grabbed his Colt .45 M1911 pistol in his hand, and took a quick glance down the line, and then blew his whistle. At the whistle, men all along our line opened fire, and the cracking of rifle fire, grew in a roar along our trench, and the machine guns sounded like typewriters thrown into high gear. The fight seemed to last forever men were working the bolt-action of their rifles and firing rapidly, seeming like machine guns with a slower rate of fire, and the grunts and groans of wounded on both sides, could be heard everywhere. I looked forward, and a German had grabbed a potato masher grenade, and was preparing to throw it. I quickly drew a bead on his head, and fired a quick shot at him, and hit directly in the forehead, and after a quick splash of blood, he was on the ground. One of our machine-gun crews spotted the Germans I was shooting at, and turned their machine-gun towards them, and fired quick short bursts of gunfire at them, and soon the machine-gun had them stacked like fresh cut cedar. I reached for my belt, and grabbed a “pineapple” grenade, and lobbed towards a group of Germans, and they turned and ran, but too late, because the grenade burst, throwing shrapnel into their backs, and they fell onto the ground in a heap. Finally, the Germans began to retreat, back to their trench line.
Once again, the order was given to charge, so we stepped out of the trench, and raced after the retreating Germans. However, like before, they managed to get back to their trench, and return fire on us with their machine-guns, and forced us to retreat, so we ran back to our trench, and dove into it. As I sat there in the trench after the battle, I took time to measure what we had lost, and what we have won, but soon I fell asleep. Fighting like this would continue, until November, 11’th 1918, when the Armistice was signed and the call for “Ceasefire” was called, officially bringing an end to the greatest war of our time.