Justin
Artillery rained down from the sky. Justin ducked as a shell hit the ground around 20 metres away from him and dirt rained down on me and my squad.
"BLOODY ARTILLERY" yelled Rhys. The man next to Rhys crawled up the side of the trench and yelled down "less screwing around and more shooting".
Before Rhys could retort the man was shot in the shoulder and he slid down screaming.
"Oh Shit" Justin cried. Rhys flipped the man onto his back and put pressure on the wound on his shoulder. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STANDING THERE, GET THE MEDIC" Rhys yelled. Justin turned around and ran
***
Justin ran back with Callum (the medic) and two soldiers carrying a stretcher.
"About time" Rhys rasped not being able to take the fear of not being able to move out of the way from falling artillery without relieving pressure from the mans wound.
Callum knealt down and started examining the man.
"FUCK, IM GONNA DIE" yelled the man breaking down into tears."GET HIM ON THE STRETCHER" Callum yelled over the thundering artillery.
The men dutifully set down the stretcher on the other side of the man and lifted him onto the stretcher.
The men carried the crying man to the med-bay with Callum following close behind.
Justin stared at the spot where the man was once writhing in pain until he heard the sound of the whistle blowing, signaling for them to go over into no-mans land. He could barely hear Rhys say "you got to be fucking kidding me".
YOU ARE READING
WW1 The Trenches
Ficción históricaA story of Justin Sirike and Rhys Hilton-Reeves in 1914, he was transported to paris from england to fight against the germans who failed at trying to surround Paris by marching through belgium and getting into paris. Justin is Black, tall had black...
