Dunkirk h.s.

7. Highway to Hell

A/N:

~Some strong language in this here chapter~

January 18, 1940

"This is bullshit," Niall cursed as we trudged our way through a swamp.

"Too loud! Start over!" Sergeant Walsh screamed. All of us groaned and walked back to the beginning of our path.

We had to work on our maneuvering skills and part of that was being completely silent.

"Thanks a fucking lot Potato Boy," some guy spat at Niall as we walked.

"How was I suppose to know the drill sergeant would hear?" He asked me. His tone clearly upset.

"It's ok Nialler. He probably didn't hear you it could of been someone else."

"You know if this was the real thing, you would of gotten all of these men, including yourself, killed, Private Horan," Sergeant Walsh called out at Niall.

"I guess that answers it," Niall mumbled.

We've been at this drill the whole day. Literally the whole day. We got up at five, we ate, and now we're here.

I don't have a clock but I'm probably guessing that's it's around 6 o'clock in the evening.

The course consisted of a 4-mile hike through the woods, crawling through tall grass, over rocky terrain, and through a mile of swamp.

We were nearly done this time, but of course luck never runs out way. I mean, it was are 16th time to restart, so I was literally drained of every bit of emotion I had left.

"Pick up your feet Styles!" I sighed and ran faster.

It took us about thirty minutes to get back to the start of this shit-fest because there was a short cut back that the Sergeant decided to show us on our 8th time restarting.

Ever since the Zayn incident, no other fights have broken out. I've noticed that more people have started to hang around me, but I figured I was just getting used for protection.

Haven't really seen Zayn around either. He's in another groups, which explains it, but when we do see each other, there's that nod of recognizing the others presence.

When we got back to the start, the camp didn't look like how we left it.

There were definitely more people there and a lot in men of uniforms. Sergeant Walsh went to go talk to one and when he did, his face fell. The man also handed him a slip of paper.

All of us were confused and silent. "T-trainings over f-for the day." We all kind of just stood there. "Go!" He barked out.

Our group dissipated and Niall and I walked over to see what was going on. I caught sight of Zayn and we jogged over to him.

"What's going on Zayn?" I asked and he turned to face me. "Why are there so many people here?"

"They started the draft," he said dully.

"Wait-I thought that they would only do the draft if things got really-" Niall started but stopped.

"Bad," Zayn finished for him. "Got news today that 700 of our soldiers deployed in France were just slaughtered."