Numb: The Genesis

IX. Stains

A lump in my throat proceeded to irritate me. Mixed feelings were becoming unnervingly distracting as I grinded my teeth. War. And with the look plastered on everyone's faces, this news meant that each of us had a role to play in this battle.

Shocked, I spoke, "War? With whom could we possibly-"

"Tierras Santas. The Spanish kingdom. We've run into conflicts with them during our attempts to expand the kingdom of the Southern Isles."

Once Kenneth and I were informed of the causes, Pappa continued to speak, "The Spaniards have sent a fleet from what I was told by these gentlemen of the Southern Isles naval department of military. The plan is to send our navy to attack at sea before they reach our lands.

"Now, for the appointment of the officers. My sons, you all will be leading our army to fight Tierras Santas. Each of you will be assigned your titles and duties..." Lost in thought, I ceased to listen to my father. That is, until he called onto me, "Hans."

"Yes?"

"You have been commissioned with the title of a naval officer. You will be managing the primary bateau. Men will be under your administration, so it will your responsibility to maintain a strong troop."

This couldn't have been possibly true, could it? I was only eighteen at this time, and I was expected to manage men older and bigger than I? But immediately, I came to realization that I did have to hold responsibility in order to be looked at as authority.

It was just all too surreal. War meant bloodshed. And I was expected to prevent it-that's what I translated from Pappa's words: "...so it will be your responsibility to maintain a strong troop." I felt the pain of being wounded beforehand, and I couldn't imagine worse. But that's war, and we were to grin and bear it.

--

"Admiral Westergård!"

"Sir! Admir-"

"They're coming!"

The cutting winds thrashed the ship back and forth. I dozed out into the sea. The sailors were screaming into my ears but I was stiff in my nerves. My heart throbbed in my chest and my veins were gushing with blood. My mouth gaped as I narrowed my eyes. The battle has come upon us.

"Barge men! Helmsman! Attention to your brigade captain!" My voice was muffled by the howling breeze and the pitter patter of the rain. "Ease the helm! Fall in and ready your cannons!"

Before I could call 'fire,' cannonballs came pouring down upon us. My lungs expanded, "Fire!"

The rain made it hard to see. I had to watch my footing. I advanced toward the opposite side of the bateau. My ears rang with the blow of the cannons and the aching cries of wounded men. The helmsman disappeared from my sight, and so I took hold of the helm. It was a slippery grasp, but I held as tight as I could so I can control the ship in these harsh seas.

I felt weight upon my left foot. It was the helmsman's hand. He lied on the deck, with his hand laying upon my boot. I was horrified at the look of him. It was nauseating.

The lower half of his body was blown off, certainly by the cannons. Crimson blood pooled at the end of him. His stringy flesh swam in the pool, along with the mess of his entrails. His white clothes were no longer clean. I was paralyzed. I assumed he used his remaining strength to pull himself towards me. But why? I shook my head, so I could forget what I saw and what I knew. But I couldn't.

I remembered his name was also Hans. He was only a year older than I. Hans told me when we were on the voyage out to the south that once this was all over, he was going to ask for the hand of this maiden who has been his childhood friend and they were going to live "happily ever after."

I didn't know when this would all end. I promised Hans that it would end soon. But it wasn't soon enough.

I was overwhelmed by my trembling and my tears. I looked down at Hans. His blood had once stained the wooden floorboards and was washed away by the heavy rain. However, my mind was stained, and nothing could ever wash away the stains.