As I Lay Dying

One

1916

I watch the young soldier opposite me, how his shock of clean blond hair contrasts with the slushy mud that he leans back against.

He's new and it's his first night on watch, he's so fresh that he jumps at every distant blast of gunfire, fingering his gun nervously as if it'll protect him from the entire German army. His eyes flick repeatedly between me and the bright flashes of bombs in the distance. I idly fiddle with my last cigarette as I watch him. I wonder if that's how I looked when I got here? Full faced, well fed, utterly terrified.

"Is it always like this?" He stutters finally, obviously needing to talk, find some sense of normality in the hell he's suddenly been plunged into.

"You'll get used to it." I say quietly, forcing a smile. I could tell him that tonight's fairly quiet but that'll just scared him more.

A bomb lands, closer to us than the others and in the bright flare of light I see terror across his face as he grips his gun tightly.

"It's worse for the Russians." I say when the noise has died down. "Apparently they have one gun for every 5 men." My words were meant to reassure him but it doesn't work, he stares around, shaking slightly. A heavy silence falls before he speaks suddenly.

"They didn't say it was going to be like this. They said... They said it was glory and-"

"Well of course they told you that." I reply quietly. "No one would sign up of they knew what it was really like."

He stares at me for a minute. His healthy, flushed face is so different to those of us who have been here longer. He doesn't have that haunted withered look, his eyes don't speak of unimaginable horrors witnessed. Yet.

"What's your name?" He asks slowly. I remember doing that. As if you'll care about anyone's name in the constantly revolving sea of faces. It's easier to see them die if you don't know their name.

"Harry. Private Harry Styles." I smile softly, trying to reassure him.

"I'm Jimmy." He says, rubbing his face nervously. "Jimmy Hainsworth. How long have you been here?" He winces at another particularly loud round of shots sound out nearby.

"Since the start. I signed up in 1914."

"Really? They said it'd be over by Christmas."

"They've been saying that for the past 2 years." I smile wryly. "It shows no signs of stopping yet."

Jimmy nods and we fall into another silence. "My mam went crazy when she heard I'd signed up." He says suddenly. "Wish I bloody listened to her."

I laugh along with him, impressed at his ability to find a small amount of humour in it when he's obviously so terrified.

"My fiancés dad doesn't like me. I suppose that's why I came. I wanted to show him that I was brave and worthy of her... Not that I'm feeling it right now." He mutters, looking round at the muddy field.

"You should have stayed with her." I say quietly.

He nods, looking overwhelmed. The silence drags on and I can tell he doesn't like it. He hesitates before fumbling in his pocket.

"This is her." He holds out a small photo and I take it carefully, noticing the difference between my dirty, chewed thumbnail and his clean one. I hold the picture to the the dull camp light. A pretty dark haired girl smiles up from the picture and I study it for a moment.

"She's a beauty." I smile, handing it back.

"Yeah, that's Ellen. I had to fight off every lad in the village to win her over." Jimmy smiles proudly. "She's a fiery bugger though. Reckon I'd rather face a few Germans with guns than her when she's in a mood."