"I may not live to see our glory But I will gladly join the fight."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
GENEVIEVE GOT SOME VERY STRANGE looks as she made her way through the trenches. It was understandable, the way she was dressed. But the stone cold look of determination on her face made the soldiers part like the Red Sea around her. She spotted a familiar soldier with a bandage around his head. She winked at him.
The trench expanded. Genevieve noticed that the backwall has been blown out into a large crater. Debris andsandbags were strewn around. Soldiers were working onit with picks and shovels. It looks pretty recent. She climbs through the rubble, struggling to not let her head peek out at the top.
"Watch it." One says to her. "You're stepping on dead men there."
Genevieve glanced down. The sandbags seemed to be leaking red. She quickly looked away and kept moving. No time to dwell on that now. She just needed one thing and then she could go. A flare. She could of sworn she packed one before she left America but it seems that she forgot. She knew exactly where to find on though.
Genevieve stopped at a man sitting casually against the trench wall. He glanced up at her lazily.
"Do you know where Major Stevenson is?" She asked him.
"Uh," He looked her up and down, confused. "He's dead."
"Well who's in charge then?" She didn't have time for this.
"Lieutenant Leslie." The man said.
He pointed to a dug out a little further down. She nodded and made her way over there. She could hear a commotion behind her but didn't care enough to look back.
"Lieutenant Leslie?" She peeked her head into the dugout.
She saw a man asleep on a cot with an arm over his eyes to block out the light. She poked his foot and he startled awake.
"What?" He stared at her. "The hell are you doing?"
"Lieutenant I need a flare." She said. "It's urgent. I have orders to cross."
"You?" He raised and eyebrow and sat up. "Aren't you a nurse?"
"I've been restationed." She replied. "Flare please."
"Miss, that is the fucking front line." He jabbed a thumb backwards.
"I am well aware." Genevieve replied. "But I have direct orders. And I don't have time for this. Please just give me a flare and I'll be on my way."
"Lieutenant Leslie?" Another voice behind her said.
"He's busy." Genevieve snapped. "Give us a second."
"But we have a message from General Erinmore."
Leslie looked over Genevieve's shoulder.
"Are you our relief?" He asked. The soldier must have shaken his head no because Leslie scoffed. "Then when the fucking hell are they due?"
