The Sandy Hell

Gallipoli

The scorching sun beat down on us like we were a group of disobedient children. The heat literally tore off our skin as we sit out in the sun, clutching our rifles. We were dug in trenches, a form of "protection" from the opposition; the enemy. We have been posted to fight the Ottoman forces, but they too, have been dug in well, with sand bags and aiming riflemen fortifying their trench. They had Maxim machine guns stocked up well behind protection (sand bags). I took off my hat and ruffled through my hair. I was filthy. I had sand in my boots, dirt on my face, and we all had a repulsing stench of what is not taking a shower for a week or so. I hugged my rifle close to me.

"First wave prepare to charge! Fix bayonets! Fix bayonets!" I stood up and locked my bayonet to my rifle, then placed a few rounds in the receiver and cocked back the bolt. My brain was beating and my heart was stomping on my chest as I huffed and puffed heavy breaths of air. "Lads, up to your ladders!" The first line stepped up on their place, and waited for the time. An officer stumbled over to the ladder, and blew the whistle. The ear-deafening sound pierced and echoed in the air as the men started to shout, but as soon as they scrambled to the top, most of them fell right back in, due to being riddled by machine gun fire. It was my turn next. I scampered to the top only to have a comrade in front of me killed instantly. A machine gun round entered his left cheek, and exited the back of his head. A sudden spatter of blood erupted from his head and enveloped my face. I continued to run as I spat and gagged at the taste of iron. I only sprinted a few feet when I was knocked off my feet by an impounding force which sent me sprawling forward into the sand. The sand sprayed up, scattered across my face, and entered my eye. The stinging hell soared through my eyes, as I rubbed and rubbed, but the most intense pain was the bullet wound I took to my shin. It felt like a steaming hot metal rod slowly poking through melted butter. In agony, I slowly turned around and crawled back to my trench. Seeing me and a few other wounded men, our comrades pulled us inside as the Turks kept on riddling our defences like nobody's business. I felt the horrifying experience of being shot.

The next thing I realise is waking up suddenly in a hospital. I looked over to my left to notice my mom and dad standing next to my bed.

"Ma? Pa?"

"Say no more, son... You're going home..."

I blacked out.

THE END