Attack Of The Dead Men

The Attack Of The Dead Men

It was meant to be an easy job, gas those Russians, continue in, then go. Not this, this wasn't meant to happen. The dead men rose and attacked.

"Easy job, now move your asses!" A sergeant yelled in the distance, the soldiers standing straight. We were tired and cold, it was only two in the morning, and they expected us to get prepared and reach the Russian base in under two hours. Oh well, whatever it takes to win this damned war.

It took us an hour for our little militia to gather all of our resources needed, and the main thing we required was the chlorine gas. It was an ingenious idea really, I can't remember who thought it up. But we just pump some into a bunch of balloons, then float it over the base, that's why we had to get up so damned early, to catch the wind. The chlorine would just simply melt their lungs, which should kill them instantly. It was a flawless plan.

All I know about the plan is that we release the gas, then kill anyone left with some artillery rounds. Simple, and I get to see this beautiful plan unfold in front of me, as we were almost at the base now. I checked my small watch, four in the morning. It's time to release the gas. "Alright you lazy fucks, release the balloons!" The sergeant yelled out to us all. We filled the balloons, then released them into the cold wind, gently taking it and sending it straight over the Russian base. Osowiec was ours, and we would capture it easily.

The balloons flew over the Russian base, releasing the poisonous gas. We heard screams all the way to our position, which meant that it was time to attack. "Artillery fire, now! Start charging you shit-eaters!" The sergeant screamed at us. The mortars shot a few rounds out, as the rest of the small army and I charged, bayonets at the ready, incase any Russians come running out. We got near the base, and put on our gas masks, to help us from breathing in the toxic gas.

We cautiously moved into the green cloud, obscuring our view, allowing us to only see about three meters in front of us. A gunshot rang through the air, and a soldier off to my right collapsed. "Alright, who held a grudge against that poor bastard and took the chance?" Someone yelled out jokingly, many responding with laughs. "Must've been a misfire, maybe someone got spooked by a jumping rabbit and dropped their rifle!" Another joked, more laughs following. The laughs cut short when another gunshot zipped through the air. Another man, now off to my left collapsed. "Fuck, that wasn't a misfire!" A soldier screamed out in panic, plenty others gripping their rifles. I stood in horror as I saw a few corpses shuffling towards us.

The Russians we gassed should've died, and they know they will. The people, which seemed like corpses with their clothes tattered and skin peeling, coughing blood and bits of their lungs out stumbled towards us, guns in their hands. They knew they were going to hell, but they were going to drag us down with them. Half my squadron dropped their guns and fled, shit-scared of these shambling corpses covered in bits of their own lungs.

I stood there in terror, watching in horror as these Russians were charging us with their bayonets. I dropped my rifle and tried to run, promptly tripping. I caught myself, and my shoes struggled to gain a grip as I moved my feet against the wet dirt. I looked behind me to see a Russian catch up to one of my squadron members, and stab him in the back with his fixed bayonet. I quickly stood and ran as fast as I could, trying to catch up with the rest of the army.

I heard the Russians in the distance coughing violently, influencing us all to run faster, and some got trampled. I accidentally stepped on the head of a friend, hearing their head slam into a rock. I was near the back, which prevented me from getting stampeded, but also left me fairly vulnerable. I glanced to my left and watched as a poor man got shot in the back. He screamed out and fell, a walking corpse running up and stabbing him in the neck. I nearly tripped on the body of a trampled soldier, causing me to stumble.

I turned back to the direction I was running in and saw so many of the people I know die to our own barbed wire we set up, cutting deep into their flesh. I watched as bodies piled onto parts of the wire, people getting caught up in them and dying. I ran onto a pile that covered the wire, nearly falling as I ran on the uneven ground. I continued running as fast as I could, ripping off my gas mask for air once I thought I got far enough away. I looked behind me and saw the Russians tripping on the barbed wire, killing a few. The rest started shooting at me and a few other survivors, hitting some of my squadron.

I didn't get far enough to where there was no chlorine gas, and I sit here writing this as I cough up bits of my lungs. May we win this horrid war.