Bayonets and Barbed Wire

Chapter 9

Second Line Trench, Vimy Ridge, France

April 9, 1917

5:20 A.M.

It was cold and miserable in the dugout, but still better than being outside. Otto and Ralf had regrouped with Anton on Vimy Ridge after nearly a year of being separated, only to end up being shelled for a few days straight. Over the course of the last twelve hours, however, the barrage had decreased in strength and finally stopped only minutes ago. Everyone tensed up when it ended, because that could only signal one thing, an assault.

Reluctantly, Otto rose from where he had spent the last few hours trying to sleep and followed the rest of his dugout-mates outside. Just as the frigid air and painfully cold snow began to batter his face, he heard a faint whistling. He cursed, then screamed for everyone to take shelter, himself diving back into the dugout with Anton and Ralf. A moment later, the entire line was lit up with a synchronized barrage that sent dirt, snow, and mangled bodies flying through the early morning air. Another thirty seconds and two blasts shook the earth as the screams of the dying penetrated the veil of thunderous explosions. Then, it stopped.

As the soldiers once again emerged from the dugout, the sights of hell met them. The line had been pulverized, most of the men who had not found a dugout were in bloody chunks on the ground or gone entirely. The others were also in pieces, they were just unfortunate enough to still be breathing. Whistles joined in with the sounds of agony as an attack began on the first line. There was no time to care for the wounded, Otto, Ralf, and Anton lept into action, seizing their weapons and taking positions on the line. Only a couple hundred yards away a great smoke screen billowed forward. Suddenly, a massive wave of brown emerged with a fury and was upon the first line. Otto and the second line came alive, firing every ounce of ammo they could as the surge of Brits overran their comrades.

Shoot, draw the bolt, reload. Shoot, draw the bolt, reload. All Otto could think about in that moment was stopping the assault. He shot and shot and shot, but soon realized that there was no stopping this attack. When he saw the first line fall, he called for a retreat and started running. He made it only a few feet before the Tommies were upon them and he was on the ground, a man atop him ready to end his life with a bayonet. Fortunately, Anton was there. The brawny soldier rammed into the Brit with his shoulder, knocking him to floor, and then releasing a killing burst of gunfire into his chest.

With a hand from Anton, Otto was back on his feet and on the heels of his friend as they continued their withdrawal. Suddenly, a British soldier emerged from clearing a dugout only five feet away. They were too close to fire, so he and Otto engaged in a sort of spear combat with their bayonets. A thrust was met with a block, and any charge would no-doubt end with the butt of a rifle smashing his skull, so Otto played defensively, waiting for a mistake to happen. It came when the tired Brit was too slow to withdraw his thrusted rifle, giving Otto time to quickly take hold of the gun and plunge his own bayonet into the man's chest. He threw the other rifle to the ground, pushed the man aside, and rushed to follow Anton and Ralf. A few yards further, he found them waiting for him in a passage to the third line, ushering a small force of soldiers they had saved along the way down the trench while they held their position and warded off any attackers.

When he arrived, Ralf was the one to greet him, "What took you so long? We need to get out of here!"

It was not worth a response, so he just joined up with them and rapidly withdrew to the third line. It appeared that this section of the defense had gone unmolested by the British artillery fire, for, despite a few occasional casualties, everyone seemed to be relatively unharmed and ready to fight. Otto took up a position with Ralf defending a machine gun, and watched as the Tommies, filled with confidence, climbed over the parados of the second line. First a click, then a roar as the Maschinengewehr swept the battlefield, ripping holes in both the enemy men and their formations. Still they advanced, making it more than comfortably close in Otto's part of the line and seizing other parts of it. But with pressure from the MG 08 emplacements, the attack soon broke and its men were sent running back into their holes.