𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞 | 𝐰. 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 ON HOLD

one

It was as if the fighting had ended. Silence filled the land, no guns to be heard, no shells, not even the sounds of German men, shouting orders behind their line.

Alena was busy working in one of the tents, a triage area, which had been pitched up by the other male soldiers. She was tending to a wounded soldier, a man who she didn't know, all she knew is that he had been hit by shrapnel a few nights back.

She couldn't remember the last time the countryside, where the trenches ran deep, had been so peaceful, usually the peace was ruined by the screaming sound of bombs going off, and the cracking of gun fire.

She had just finished applying bandages to the man's legs when she heard footsteps approaching behind her, "Alena? Alena Ronan?" The red head turned around to see who had spoken to her, and in front of her stood two Lance Corporals, William Schofield and Tom Blake.

"Yes? Do you require medical assistance?" She couldn't see any wounds on the two, but you can never be too careful. "If not then what do you need?" She didn't mean to have a snappy attitude with them, but she was currently knee deep with work, more and more men were need treated, either as a result from bullet wounds, shrapnel, or trench foot.

"We were told by Sergeant Sanders that we were to gather our kit, and find a medic, and to then follow after him." The taller man, Schofield, explained.

"Oh, right. So you chose me then?" Alena looked at them both, they were both possibly in their early twenties, Blake had a smaller build than Schofield.

"Indeed we did, yes." Blake spoke.

"Now come on, the Sergeant will be wondering where we've got to." The shorter man said.

"Wait, I should bring a first aid kit, or at least a few bandages, don't you think? I mean they clearly wanted you to bring a medic for a reason." She hurried off, lifting armfulls of different sized bandages and stuffing them in to a canvas bag, designed to go over the shoulder.

"Okay, let's go."

The three began their journey into the trenches, the two men in front as they knew which way to go. Alena could he a muffled conversation between them, "What you got there?" She could hear Tom ask.

"Ham and bread."

"Where did you find that?" Blake asked, confused.

"I have my uses." Schofield then proceeded to break the bread in half, offering part of it to his friend. Alena watched as Blake took the stale looking loaf from his hand, William then turned, offering the girl what was left.

"That's very kind of you, Lance Corporal."
She took the scraps from him, grateful for his manners. As they continued walking, the ground beneath them began to gradually slope downwards.

"Tastes like old shoe." Blake uttered in distaste, his mouth full of bread.

Schofield decided to try and cheer him up, by reminding him they would be on leave the next week, "Cheer up. This time next week it'll be chicken dinner."