The Trench In My Heart

Prologue

In a town two miles or so from the from the front, what once rather spectacular church, had become something of a hospital. As rain beats heavy onto the roof, heels of boots click onto tile floor as nurses hustle around to treat soldiers. Amber, a young woman who had decided her best service would be as a nurse, sits outside the intensive care unit. She fiddles mindlessly with the hem of her sleeve until her dear friend Mary opens the creaky door and steps into the hall.

"Better now, honey?" Mary asks as she places a gentle hand on Amber's shoulder.

"I suppose so," Amber's voice seems unsure.

"Well, whenever you're ready, there's a lot of men who could use your help." Mary smooths her bloodied apron, and steps back behind the heavy wooden door. Amber stands up to follow, but stops in front of the door to ponder about her friend's words. Would her help even matter? Would it make a difference for the war effort? Most of the men who went into intensive care wouldn't leave. As a soldier, news of being moved to IC was almost as if the expiration of your life was suddenly given a date on the calendar. Most of them already had the look of dead men, their skin taking on a cool tone, they are covered with blemishes of blue and black, their eyes far sunken in. They are encrusted in blood, from bloodied stumps to deep gashes. Slashes from hot metal of shrapnel from exploded artillery shells. The sight is horrific and sickening to Amber, but she clears her head and steps into the room anyway.

The room is dim, and the most prominent noise is the groans of almost dead men, and gurgles of dying men. There are few nurses in the room, all occupied doing what she can to comfort patients, or writing down last words, that will be sent to already grieving families. The stench of blood, sweat, and vomit hung thick in the air. There are a few soldiers as well, removing the bodies of the dead out by way of a small door in the back of the room. Amber goes by the small table near the door in front of the room. She pours a glass half full of water, then approaches one of the soldiers. He is evidently young, his face is smooth and round, he looks up at amber with glossy eyes. His breathing is shallow, but the young man manages to sit up.

"Soldiers seem to be getting younger and younger lately," Amber hands the glass of water to the young man "How old might you be?"

He takes a sip of water and shifts around in his cot. "Fifteen." Amber just nods.

"My name is Amber. What's yours?" She says, carefully removing the thin sheet lining the boy's legs, or at least what was left of them.

"Jack." He looks down at his one whole leg, covered in boils, the skin is blackening at the tips of his toes. The skin halfway up his calves was red and up to the ankle was horribly wrinkled. His other calf was not there, his right leg ended abruptly as a stump at his knee. Amber was repulsed, she couldn't help but gag. Jack had no more reaction than for his lips to curl in disgust.

"It's nothing warm socks and rest can't fix." Amber gave a small smile as she took the empty glass from Jack's hands. He looks doubtfully at Amber, but says nothing. "Well, call on me if you need anything, alright?" She returns the glass to the table, and heaves a sigh.

Before long, new nurses come into the room to replace Mary, Amber and the lot. The old nurses quietly leave the room, Amber and Mary head for the courtyard. They step out into the courtyard and stand together under the overhang. A few moments pass before either of them speak.

"It's nice to be outside, even if it is raining." Mary says, brushing a tuft of kinky hair behind her ear. The rest of her hair is pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head.

"John tells me the trenches are hell when it rains, especially like this."

"I would bet they are. Though I do love the earthy smell rain brings with it, I can imagine that earthy muddy smell must be suffocating; especially accompanied with smells of rot and gore."

"Yes, as well as deep puddles in the trenches, prime conditions for trench foot."

"I assume we're going to be seeing a lot more of that around here now," Mary heaves a deep sigh and shakes her head.

"Though, before now I've always quite liked the rain." Amber gives a sad smile off into the distance to no one in particular; the two nurses stand outside beneath the overhang before returning to the wounded.