SEP 10th 1916
FRANCE: Day 163
The bugle blows late on the night of the 10th. I can hear the hustle of nurses echo into the night as the transports haul men in from the front line. I roll out of my bed and slip my feet into my boots. I step cautiously outside and into the dark camp that is lit by search lights that had been delivered only last week.
I place the rolled cigarette between my lips and strike the match calmly. I let the thick smoke rise into the night sky, swirling with the stars before evaporating into nothing. The red embers burn in my fingers and I watch as it trails further and further towards my skin with ever puff.
A siren wails, waking me from my smokey day dream. My whole world is suddenly alive with people dashing from one end of the camp to the other. Patients are crawling from their beds and new wounded replace them.
A figure runs passed me, his hair bounces with every stride.
"Oi mate! What's going on?" I bellow.
The figure turns and reveals the friendly eyes of Jack. I sigh in relief.
"Clan!" He exclaims, pulling his body back and grabbing my forearm, "they need all the help they can get! The wounded just keep coming."
We haven't had a push for a few months now.
Not a huge one anyway.
I've almost forgotten what the terror was like.
Jack drags me out to the Ambulance bay. My head spins as the scenes of horror scar my eyes.
"Private Taylor, grab the end of this stretcher mate." Connor orders. I do as I'm told.
I look down at the bloodied face, his eyes are distant, but his legs shake. His left hand holds tight to the stump on the end of his right arm. A tear trickles down his cheek; and through the carnage he whispers.
"How am I going to put my wedding ring on now?"
My heart shatters, I grab his hand and order Connor to stop.
"You listen mate, this isn't going to change anything. You're going to go home, get married, have a family and having one less limb won't mean anything until ANZAC Day. The lady in waiting will understand that your sacrifice is more important than any stare, laugh or which finger your wedding ring is on." I tell him, his eyes smile and he grips my hand back.
The man studies me as we hurry into the tent.
"You're Clancy Taylor, you're the bloke who saved all those men at Lone Pine, you saved me! I knew you looked familiar! I'm Douglass Allen."
"Lone Pine, blimey, haven't heard of that for a while. You're alright, that's the main thing." I reply softly, a smile on my face.
"Thank you Clancy, I wouldn't have made it home without you. Don't ever stop being you Clancy Taylor, a lot of people appreciate it." Douglass shook my hand.
"It was the least I could do, now go and get better. Listen to the doctors." I tell him before turning and racing back outside.
I stop in my tracks as I confront the scenes before me. It's hell, but it's not how I imagined hell.
Hell was supposed to be a fiery inferno, lined with burning desert sand and the devil on your back.
YOU ARE READING
The Echo Of Youth
Historical Fiction"I didn't realise that I could miss something as much as I miss my innocence." It's 1914, the world is at war, and it's unlike anything anyone has seen before. The men of cities and country towns are leaving for a cause much bigger than they realis...
