Army Of Angels (A Glanny Fan Fiction)

Chapter Five

Army Of Angels.

Chapter Five.

June 1990:

"So how long did this last. Y'know drilling and parades?" He asked.

"A week," I answered.

"A week!! But it was meant to be several weeks!"

"Yes but the army was short of soldiers. The Battle Of The Marne wiped out so many soldiers that training had to be rushed,"

"Surely it should be quality not quantity?" He asked.

"Why should quality matter when a single bullet could kill a Private just as much as a bullet can kill a General? Quantity was what mattered in this war," I said.

He slumped back and a jagged line from his pencil decorated his page. He glanced down at the line and shrugged.

"Carry on," he said.

September 1914:

A Reveille blasted us out of our bunks. I hit my head on the top bunk. Mark, who had taken the top bunk, jumped so much that he rolled out of bed and went crashing to the floor. Ever heard the phrase 'he swears like a trooper'? Oh yes. That's exactly what happened.

Whilst Mark sat rubbing his elbows we all scrambled out of bed and stood at the end. Heels together. Toes together. Arms straight and by our sides. Chin up. Eyes ahead. General O'Donoghue switched on the light.

"Night call. Field now," he said bluntly and walked out.

"Night call? Night call! I'll give him night call in a minute. It's one thirty in the morning!" Mark exasperated.

"It could have been worse," Wilfred said.

"How?" Mark asked.

"You could have had Fatigues along with this like poor Carrington over there," I said and pointed to the groggiest looking recruit in the building.

"Shut it Power!" Carrington said lazily.

"Didn't General O'Donoghue say now?" I asked.

We all looked at each other and ran towards the door. None of us fancied extra fatigues. Especially considering Carrington has one for tomorrow anyway.

We approached the field to see a mass of groggy shapes. General O'Donoghue was the only one looking fit and sharp.

"Fatigues for the last team coming. Hut three. You will be doing Fatigues tomorrow. Oh dear Carrington. You will just have to carry on until eleven," General O'Donoghue said.

"When you are in the front line you will be taking it in turns to do night drills. This is the second part of your training. First comes the night parades and next we will look into trench digging and bayoneting bolsters. Now then. Form fours. Attention!" General O'Donoghue shouted.

We spent the next hour and a half forming fours and doing marching drills in the pitch dark. As you can imagine toes were trodded on and people were pushed and knocked into. We all crawled back into bed at four o'clock.

You know when the alarm goes off and it seems like you've just closed your eyes and suddenly this annoying noise is blaring? You know that noise you just want to punch? The Reveille at five thirty did just that for me. Well we had to drag ourselves out of bed. The early bird catches the worm you know? Mark, Wilfred and Carrington crumbled about the lack of sleep.

"Guys. Make your beds otherwise you'll be given extra fatigues... On top of your extra Fatigues," I said.

General O'Donoghue came in and did a quick room inspection.

"Shine those boots Power. When you get back from Fatigues that is. Right. Trench digging and bayonets today. Come on. The field. Hop to it," he said and left the building.

I left the building just minutes after him. By his side. As always.

A/N another chapter for you all. Lucky souls. Vote and comment do as you please