Army Of Angels (A Glanny Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eleven

Army Of Angels:

Chapter Eleven:

June 1990:

"That's what I was hoping you'd get to. The shell shock. It's common knowledge that you suffered from shell shock but what no one knows is how you recovered when others did not," He said.

I leant backwards in my chair and inhaled deeply.

"How?" He added.

I exhaled in the same measure that I had inhaled. It almost sounded like a sigh. Seventy two years and I've been asking myself the same question. How is it that I survived? I think the answer was easy. How was it that others died with shell shock and I am still alive to this day? That answer is easy too.

"What I had that they didn't ... Was General O'Donoghue," I answered.

January 1915:

I became an insomniac for the first time in my life. Dark rings of pure irritation circled my eyes. The slightest things annoyed me and the slightest things made me cower and want to hide. I wanted to hide away in my dugout where I could just sleep all day and not worry about anything. But the shells hit. The shrapnel flies. The General shouts. Mark inquires about my well-being. The lice make us itch. The water floods the trench. Food is hard to come by. Frogs splash in the dugouts with water in them. Snipers shoot. Grenades are thrown. The bodies pile higher and higher. The stench gets stronger and stronger. The rats scamper.

Those god damn rats will be the death of me and I do hope that isn't a literal thought. They are everywhere and I mean that. They literally are everywhere. They scamper over us whilst we shine our boots or leave our socks to dry. They scamper over our faces whilst we sleep or whilst we are dozing off. We eat our food from cans. Well, can you imagine fresh food coming to the trenches. I doubt it. We chuck the cans over the top and at night we hear the rattle rattle tap of the rats rolling about in these cans trying to scavenge any leftover food. I am not sure i it's those noises that keep me awake at night or my condition which will come but whatever it was it kept me awake and when I did close my eyes I pictured these rats scampering. The rat flying towards me. The brown man eating rats. The black rat flying towards me. The remains of poor Wilfred. The rat flying towards me. Always towards me.

It makes me so angry that this war has taken away so many souls that didn't deserve to be taken away. Not so early on in their life anyway.

I slowly became worse as the months turned from January to February. It just started with a little sleep deprivation but everyone got that. I just got it a little worse than others. The soldiers' snores would keep me awake. Footsteps in the distance would make me cower and tremble.

When I finally did get some sleep my thoughts were scattered. But they all came back to those rats. The guns. The rats. Wilfred. The rats. The screaming. The rats. I would wake up with a start and recoil deeper into my dugout covering my body with mud.

"Last night some of our troops were taken by the enemy lines. We are to go over the top and get them back. There shall be fatalities but they were some of our best and we must therefore get them back," General O'Donoghue said.

There was a murmured agreement among the soldiers who scattered back to their dugouts and started to assemble their items needed.

I lay in my dugout listening. A brown rat came scampering towards me. Those were the stereotypical man eaters. I grabbed my bayonet and stabbed it. A squeak and a spray of blood later and the brown vermin was on the end of my bayonet.

"Where's Power, Sheehan?" General O'Donoghue.

"Oh Sir. I really think Glen should stay here today," he said.

"Why?"

"He's - he's um. He's not himself,"

"How?"

"Well he's scared sir?"

"What!?"

"Um. Sir?"

"We are all scared Sheehan. Some of us more than others I get that but that don't mean we aren't all scared!"

"General O'Donoghue. I really mean it. He is not himself. He is irritable. He is tired. He is truly scared. I can't describe it," Mark said.

"Shell shock," General O'Donoghue whispered.

It was lucky they were so close that I could hear them.

"Power! Get out here," General O'Donoghue.

I didn't move an inch. I couldn't. It i get up I means I will have to go out and over the top. I would have to go to my death.

"Power! Now!"

"Glen please!" Mark shouted.

He was scared he was going to lose his friend. The first friend he made and the last one by his side. A hand dragged me out of my dugout and yanked me into a standing position.

"There!" General O'Donoghue said.

"You didn't have to do that sir," Mark said.

"He wouldn't get out otherwise,"

I looked down at my shoes. Another rat came by and the visions came back. Flying rats. Wilfred. Flying rats. I screamed and threw myself down to the ground. To the mud. Bury me like you buried Wilfred. Come on Germans! I beg of you! Please?

I didn't get that. I got a pair of hands yanking me up by the arms again.

"He seems alright," General O'Donoghue said.

"You're kidding me right?"

"His disposition is towards rats not guns and therefore e will go today," he said.

I ran forward and punched General O'Donoghue in the jaw like he had done to my at Ètaples.

"Glen!" Mark exclaimed.

"Power!" General O'Donoghue shouted.

I stood back and shook my wrist.

"Bet you're regretting teaching me hand to hand combat now aren't you?" I said slyly.

Mark and the general looked at me in disbelief.

"Right. That's it. All these people have just witnessed you disobeying your general. I'm afraid I've got no choice," General O'Donoghue said slowly.

"Please Sir. Please don't,"

"I've got no choice. He is a coward Sheehan. You know what we do to cowards. Anderson got it didn't be. Shot him in the arm and the C.O shot him in the lung. He was the best soldier going but he would have been no good if he was cowering in fear or disobeying his General's commands. I've let Power off time and time again. Now I cannot do that," He said and took my arm, leading me to an area where there were many gun shots in the mud.

"The C.O isn't here today he's at rest camp so it's just me today Power," the General said.

I nodded and moved towards the mud wall. I looked up to see Mark pleading with General O'Donoghue and the General loading his gun.

"He's a coward Sheehan. I've got no - no - no choice," he said stuttering.

"You don't want to do this so why are you?" Mark asked angrily.

"It's my job," he said simply and aimed his rifle.

"I tired mate. I really did," Mark said and turned his back on us both. Just like the rest of the soldiers were doing. No one liked seeing an execution.

The General aimed his gun and shot. I fell to the ground.

A/N: ok. I've done it. Shoot whatever you want at me. Vote and comment. Do as you please.