This is War [ONC 2021] // Honourable Mention

Chapter Twenty-Four - Kurt

Behind him, a light burst of machine-gun fire echoed through the trench. Instinctively, Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and placed his hands over his ears to block out the sound. It had been oddly quiet on the front for an entire day and the lack of noise unnerved Kurt since he always expected something to happen.

They had been planning a full-on attack towards the British trench in a few days and the entire trench was preparing for the battle ahead. Every hour or so, the machine gunners would send a short burst of fire towards the line, further down from where they were planning the assault. The hope was to distract the soldiers into believing that their attack would be in a different spot and that the gunfire was them preparing for that assault.

Kurt didn't want to be involved in another large attack, but he knew he wouldn't have much say in the matter. He had been on the line for longer than most of the other men, and despite still being a private, the others looked to him as a leader. Wilhelm, who had been made a Feldwebel, should have been the man they looked up to, but a lot of the newer privates decided that Kurt was the better man to show them how to be a soldier.

Of course, Kurt hated the idea of these young men looking up to him. Moreso, he hated the idea of them even being on the front line, guns in hand and prepared to kill the men they viewed to be the enemy, but weren't. Perhaps they weren't like him, maybe they were more inclined towards war then he was, but only time would tell if that were true. Some men had broken after one day, some had lasted longer.

"This sounds like a serious attack on the British forces," Wilhelm said, joining Kurt at the ridge of the trench to watch the line.

"Do you think it's going to work?"

Wilhelm shrugged. "We can't say for sure. We just have to hope they don't see us coming. If this goes well, the war will end."

"They said that last year, and we're still out here."

"This time, it's certain. We'll have the Tommy's running scared the moment we jump into their trenches with our rifles drawn."

Kurt looked at his gun. He hadn't fired it at a person since that fatal shot all those months ago. In the recent battles, he had struggled to keep his hands steady when he fired it and he wasn't sure he hadn't accidentally hit someone in the process. He couldn't think straight, couldn't shoot straight and would be a liability in the big attack they had planned, but unless he was recruited for letter writing or another task, he had no way of getting out of it.

He looked out across the large gap between the two trenches. They were so close together that he was certain he could hear the occasional laugh or shout from the British soldiers. Every time he closed his eyes, Kurt could see the man he shot that day, but it was never the man's face. It was always someone else's. His brother, his father, the man who had given him the chocolate bar on Christmas day. All of them innocent men, even the one who was supposed to be an enemy.

The longer he spent on the line, the more he wanted to take off. To tell the others he was going to the latrine and just disappear behind the lines and hope that no one ever found him. Some men had slipped off in the dead of night, some returned to the line and others shot for desertion. There had been stories of men putting a bullet in their foot or their hand just to go home because they couldn't handle it any more. Kurt didn't think he could do something like that and he knew how his family would view him if they realised just how those injuries came to be.

"With any luck, this will all be over in a matter of days and we can go home. This ersatz coffee is disgusting." Wilhelm winced as he took a sip before emptying the cup over the top of the trench.

"It's the rats I can't stand. I think one was crawling on my chest last night," Johannes said, shuddering and joining the other two against the trench wall.

"Did you hear that someone got taken off the line because they got bitten by a rat whilst asleep, it got infected? They had to have their leg amputated."

"That's one way to get out of service."

"Just one wound and you're right back home," Kurt said.

"You must be one of the lucky ones. An entire year here and no wounds, not even a scratch. It's strange," Wilhelm said.

"Now you've said that he's going to get hit."

Although he would never say it out loud, Kurt was somewhat glad that Wilhelm had mentioned him never being hit. They had been told to never say that a day had been quiet because that usually meant it wouldn't be quiet for much longer and the same could be said for a person never being hit. Now that the words had been said, Kurt hoped that his chances of earning a wound bad enough to be sent home had increased.

He didn't want to be hurt, the idea of being shot scared him, but it was a way to go home and that was all he wanted. They would still think of him as a hero if he returned injured and he could go back to the farm, to his family, and put the war behind him as best he could. Desertion could end in a death sentence, his entire family shamed because of a decision he made and the difficulties he faced on the front. A minor wound could send him home for the duration of the war.

With a big battle on the horizon, Kurt hoped he would get that once in a lifetime wound in the coming days and be back home in time for Hans' birthday. The heroics no longer mattered to him, the pride or the glory that came with war were nothing compared to being back with his family. To never have to listen to the sound of a gun or to hold one in his hand. He could be with Marie, tease Hans about Helene and work the farm with his father.

Kurt wanted that once in a lifetime wound more than anything else.

~~~

First Published - February 27th, 2021