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This was an assignment for an English class I had in high school. But.... I really like it and since I don't have any of my other writings at hand, I thought I'd share this one.
It's a prequel to short story we had to read. I'm much more of a fantasy person but it was fun to write something a little different. Enjoy : )
Prequel to In Another Country
It was the fall of '16 and war was on everyone's mind. I wasn't sure how it all begin. Something about a duke being assassinated. This had triggered the European countries to get a little testy with each other. Before we knew it, they were declaring war. Why that should matter to Americans, I didn't know. I just knew I had a duty to my country and was honored to do it. They didn't give us long to prepare for it, or give us much information on where we were going and why. A soldier's job isn't to ask questions-we just do.
So there I was, on an airplane, heading towards the front lines of the River Somme to fight the Germans. I still wasn't sure what was going on, but I was so anxious and excited I didn't care. I was going to honor my country and family. Do what was right. Give the world some justice... That whole spiel. At least, that's what I thought we were doing. It's amazing how much you can believe in something one moment, and then lose all hope in that same thing in the next.
******************************************************************************
I stepped out of the airplane. The major was yelling at us to hurry up and get into the trench. It was a horrid sight. Bodies littered the ground; rigor mortise left their bodies in grim positions. This sight made my sense for honor and justice wave for a brief moment. Would this be the way I was to die? In a filthy trench, on top of my comrades, fighting for a cause I had no clue about? That thought didn't have time to linger long because the general was informing us of a mission to secure an area nearby that contained civilians. I was psyched. I was getting a chance to prove myself! I'd only been here five minutes and I was already going to be a hero. The general needed five soldiers to scout ahead in case of an ambush on the way. Not yet familiar with the terrain or details of the trench war, I was unaware of the nearly suicidal mission I would be undertaking in a few short hours. Soldiers later informed me how crazy I was to attempt such a mission and how little the higher-ups understood of the war. I disregarded most of what the men said. Nothing could dissuade me from taking on the mission to prove myself.
The next morning I awoke before dawn to a volley of shots being fired from both sides. Not the best way to wake up, but my irritation soon disappeared as I remembered today was the day I would be carving my name in history. After a quick bout of stretches, gruel and some rough greetings to the other residents of the trench, I was ready to report to the general. To my disappointment I was told he had left minutes before I arrived to oversee some repairs being made to a barbed-wire fence a mile or so down the line. Apparently the Germans weren't fighting much today due to some miscommunication with their leader. The better for us, right? Anyway, I was told he was due back the next day and I would need to be a foot soldier today.
After midday, I guess the Germans got their communications back in order because we received volley after volley of shots. My area wasn't in the line of most of the fire, so I didn't see the destruction the German artillery could do until hours later. My unit was called in to relieve the remaining soldiers, since the replacements troops wouldn't arrive until that evening.
As I was suiting up and getting a crash-course on the best way to decimate the Germans, my friend advised me. "Watch out. If you stay over too long, they'll get you." I nodded and tried to seem somber. Of course, I was busy trying to plan how I could possibly be a hero this way instead of a suicide mission.
I walked up to the lip of the trench and wedged myself between some debris and a private from another unit. He shot a couple of Germans before they managed to figure out where we were. I think up until that point I hadn't realized how awful our situation was. I shot and killed a machine-munist before he could get off another clip into our line. While dealing with that, I failed to noticed the lone German higher up, aiming his gun in my area. I quickly shot off another round and ducked-just in time. However, the private didn't and I watched as his body jerked backwards into the pit. He tried to scream, but the bullet was blocking his throat and all he managed was a gurgled gasp and a few twitches before joining the thousands of others that had spent their last breaths in this trench. At first, I was shocked. My epiphany came too late. Then the idea of vengeance came upon me and I was determined to kill any and all Germans who dared to kill an American soldier. I jumped up and fired off three rounds before getting my helmet shot off. This failed to phase me and I managed another round before having to retreat into the trench to get more ammunition. I grabbed handfuls of clips and shoved one into my gun and the others into my pockets, jacket, anything I could cram a clip into. I was going to get the German who killed that private.
With a cry I vaulted onto no man's land and started running across to find the one responsible for my comrade's agonized death. I didn't get far before they started firing at me. I didn't care. As far as I was concerned there was no way they could shoot me. I was delivering justice and God would protect me. I was ridding the world of bad. I proved to be wrong as a bullet whizzed past my ear. I decided running into the dragon's lair probably wasn't the best solution and quickly turned on my heel and started running towards my sanctuary. I wasn't fast enough. A few yards away from the trench I felt my knee buckle under me and I fell forward. My unit hustled forward to pull me in to safety.
I was relieved. I wasn't dead! Which was good, because that would hardly constitute as being a heroic act. I was still slightly dazed, but I felt enough to feel the searing pain in my leg. I looked down to see my calf, or what was left of it, ripped and the bone splintered. I tried to stand and fell forward with a crack of my leg. I screamed in pain and passed out.
******************************************************************************
I awoke in a hospital tent that was alive with activity. I blinked a few times and cleared my throat. It felt like I had swallowed cotton. It took me a full minute to remember what had happened. I blinked again and steeled myself for the worst. I looked down at my leg and gasped in shock. I had no leg! Where there was once a calf, ankle and foot, there was nothing. My leg was a stump at the knee, heavily bandaged. I looked around. By my bed there was a sheet spotted with red. It seemed to be covering something lumpy and bloodied. I lifted the sheet and found my ankle and foot. I screamed. A nurse came running and shoved a needle in my arm. I heard more yelling from the nurse and others answering her as I drifted into a drugged sleep.
******************************************************************************
When I next awoke, it was in an actual hospital farther from the fighting. I never asked for much information other than if I would ever be able to go back. I was told no by everyone I asked. I spent weeks sitting in the hospital bed. I was to be given a medal. I wasn't sure for what, and I didn't care. I had gotten what I wanted but not by some heroic act of courage and bravery. No cunning and wit had been involved in my short run in no man's land.
After my usual lunch of chicken soup and alone, a man in a suit came up to my bed. I blankly stared up at him. "I hear you can't go back out there. Shame." I blinked and looked down at my leg. He looked at it, too and said, "Well, if that's the case, you could always do something with your time. There's a place in Milan. Physical therapy for war vets. Supposed to help get your body back to where it was. New machines and all. Would you like to try it?" I looked up at him and slowly surveyed the room. I nodded and he smiled and rattled off more about how the place was helping all kinds of injured vets and such. I had nothing else to do.
He came back the next day and informed me I would leaving by the end of the week. Everything was worked out and I would have accommodations at the hospital in Italy. The previous night had been a difficult one for me. I realized I had nothing left. I didn't get to be a hero. I wasn't anywhere near any friends and family and as far as I knew, the war was still going on. I had nothing back in America. I was planning to acquire everything I needed by going home a decorated war veteran. Now all I had was a leg without a middle and a chance to make it better. I decided to take this physical therapy head on. I would go every day. I wouldn't lose hope. I couldn't. This was all I had.
******************************************************************************
It would be fun to have a weekly/monthly/whatever writing event on here. I like challenging myself and it's always nice to see what other people write (especially when using the same topic.) Just an idea : )
It's a prequel to short story we had to read. I'm much more of a fantasy person but it was fun to write something a little different. Enjoy : )
Prequel to In Another Country
It was the fall of '16 and war was on everyone's mind. I wasn't sure how it all begin. Something about a duke being assassinated. This had triggered the European countries to get a little testy with each other. Before we knew it, they were declaring war. Why that should matter to Americans, I didn't know. I just knew I had a duty to my country and was honored to do it. They didn't give us long to prepare for it, or give us much information on where we were going and why. A soldier's job isn't to ask questions-we just do.
So there I was, on an airplane, heading towards the front lines of the River Somme to fight the Germans. I still wasn't sure what was going on, but I was so anxious and excited I didn't care. I was going to honor my country and family. Do what was right. Give the world some justice... That whole spiel. At least, that's what I thought we were doing. It's amazing how much you can believe in something one moment, and then lose all hope in that same thing in the next.
******************************************************************************
I stepped out of the airplane. The major was yelling at us to hurry up and get into the trench. It was a horrid sight. Bodies littered the ground; rigor mortise left their bodies in grim positions. This sight made my sense for honor and justice wave for a brief moment. Would this be the way I was to die? In a filthy trench, on top of my comrades, fighting for a cause I had no clue about? That thought didn't have time to linger long because the general was informing us of a mission to secure an area nearby that contained civilians. I was psyched. I was getting a chance to prove myself! I'd only been here five minutes and I was already going to be a hero. The general needed five soldiers to scout ahead in case of an ambush on the way. Not yet familiar with the terrain or details of the trench war, I was unaware of the nearly suicidal mission I would be undertaking in a few short hours. Soldiers later informed me how crazy I was to attempt such a mission and how little the higher-ups understood of the war. I disregarded most of what the men said. Nothing could dissuade me from taking on the mission to prove myself.
The next morning I awoke before dawn to a volley of shots being fired from both sides. Not the best way to wake up, but my irritation soon disappeared as I remembered today was the day I would be carving my name in history. After a quick bout of stretches, gruel and some rough greetings to the other residents of the trench, I was ready to report to the general. To my disappointment I was told he had left minutes before I arrived to oversee some repairs being made to a barbed-wire fence a mile or so down the line. Apparently the Germans weren't fighting much today due to some miscommunication with their leader. The better for us, right? Anyway, I was told he was due back the next day and I would need to be a foot soldier today.
After midday, I guess the Germans got their communications back in order because we received volley after volley of shots. My area wasn't in the line of most of the fire, so I didn't see the destruction the German artillery could do until hours later. My unit was called in to relieve the remaining soldiers, since the replacements troops wouldn't arrive until that evening.
As I was suiting up and getting a crash-course on the best way to decimate the Germans, my friend advised me. "Watch out. If you stay over too long, they'll get you." I nodded and tried to seem somber. Of course, I was busy trying to plan how I could possibly be a hero this way instead of a suicide mission.
I walked up to the lip of the trench and wedged myself between some debris and a private from another unit. He shot a couple of Germans before they managed to figure out where we were. I think up until that point I hadn't realized how awful our situation was. I shot and killed a machine-munist before he could get off another clip into our line. While dealing with that, I failed to noticed the lone German higher up, aiming his gun in my area. I quickly shot off another round and ducked-just in time. However, the private didn't and I watched as his body jerked backwards into the pit. He tried to scream, but the bullet was blocking his throat and all he managed was a gurgled gasp and a few twitches before joining the thousands of others that had spent their last breaths in this trench. At first, I was shocked. My epiphany came too late. Then the idea of vengeance came upon me and I was determined to kill any and all Germans who dared to kill an American soldier. I jumped up and fired off three rounds before getting my helmet shot off. This failed to phase me and I managed another round before having to retreat into the trench to get more ammunition. I grabbed handfuls of clips and shoved one into my gun and the others into my pockets, jacket, anything I could cram a clip into. I was going to get the German who killed that private.
With a cry I vaulted onto no man's land and started running across to find the one responsible for my comrade's agonized death. I didn't get far before they started firing at me. I didn't care. As far as I was concerned there was no way they could shoot me. I was delivering justice and God would protect me. I was ridding the world of bad. I proved to be wrong as a bullet whizzed past my ear. I decided running into the dragon's lair probably wasn't the best solution and quickly turned on my heel and started running towards my sanctuary. I wasn't fast enough. A few yards away from the trench I felt my knee buckle under me and I fell forward. My unit hustled forward to pull me in to safety.
I was relieved. I wasn't dead! Which was good, because that would hardly constitute as being a heroic act. I was still slightly dazed, but I felt enough to feel the searing pain in my leg. I looked down to see my calf, or what was left of it, ripped and the bone splintered. I tried to stand and fell forward with a crack of my leg. I screamed in pain and passed out.
******************************************************************************
I awoke in a hospital tent that was alive with activity. I blinked a few times and cleared my throat. It felt like I had swallowed cotton. It took me a full minute to remember what had happened. I blinked again and steeled myself for the worst. I looked down at my leg and gasped in shock. I had no leg! Where there was once a calf, ankle and foot, there was nothing. My leg was a stump at the knee, heavily bandaged. I looked around. By my bed there was a sheet spotted with red. It seemed to be covering something lumpy and bloodied. I lifted the sheet and found my ankle and foot. I screamed. A nurse came running and shoved a needle in my arm. I heard more yelling from the nurse and others answering her as I drifted into a drugged sleep.
******************************************************************************
When I next awoke, it was in an actual hospital farther from the fighting. I never asked for much information other than if I would ever be able to go back. I was told no by everyone I asked. I spent weeks sitting in the hospital bed. I was to be given a medal. I wasn't sure for what, and I didn't care. I had gotten what I wanted but not by some heroic act of courage and bravery. No cunning and wit had been involved in my short run in no man's land.
After my usual lunch of chicken soup and alone, a man in a suit came up to my bed. I blankly stared up at him. "I hear you can't go back out there. Shame." I blinked and looked down at my leg. He looked at it, too and said, "Well, if that's the case, you could always do something with your time. There's a place in Milan. Physical therapy for war vets. Supposed to help get your body back to where it was. New machines and all. Would you like to try it?" I looked up at him and slowly surveyed the room. I nodded and he smiled and rattled off more about how the place was helping all kinds of injured vets and such. I had nothing else to do.
He came back the next day and informed me I would leaving by the end of the week. Everything was worked out and I would have accommodations at the hospital in Italy. The previous night had been a difficult one for me. I realized I had nothing left. I didn't get to be a hero. I wasn't anywhere near any friends and family and as far as I knew, the war was still going on. I had nothing back in America. I was planning to acquire everything I needed by going home a decorated war veteran. Now all I had was a leg without a middle and a chance to make it better. I decided to take this physical therapy head on. I would go every day. I wouldn't lose hope. I couldn't. This was all I had.
******************************************************************************
It would be fun to have a weekly/monthly/whatever writing event on here. I like challenging myself and it's always nice to see what other people write (especially when using the same topic.) Just an idea : )
I love that story you've got started, Kerri. Hopefully you can put some good time in on it now!
Yes, I think I've probably done another three or four thousand words since you last read it, plus a couple of rounds of editing and tweaking and tightening things up, especially the first part. I'll send it to you
***********
I think you've got a good story started there, Airn. Your protagonist's voice is staying true and you've got a good foundation to build from.
Keep working on it, write more, edit, tweak, keep little things in mind like keeping your verb tense active and consistent (that's one of those things that seems to manage to sneak in when you get caught up in writing the story :wall: ). Sometimes walking away from it for some time, whether it's a few days or a few weeks, helps with the editing.
Yes, I think I've probably done another three or four thousand words since you last read it, plus a couple of rounds of editing and tweaking and tightening things up, especially the first part. I'll send it to you
***********
I think you've got a good story started there, Airn. Your protagonist's voice is staying true and you've got a good foundation to build from.
Keep working on it, write more, edit, tweak, keep little things in mind like keeping your verb tense active and consistent (that's one of those things that seems to manage to sneak in when you get caught up in writing the story :wall: ). Sometimes walking away from it for some time, whether it's a few days or a few weeks, helps with the editing.
Reading back over it, I would change quite a bit. But it was two hour's work for an English assignment, so I didn't perfect it. Things I write on my free time are a lot different. Maybe not better, but very different. I have a hard time finding a quitting place.
Thanks for the tips, though. I've been wanting to get back into writing : )
Thanks for the tips, though. I've been wanting to get back into writing : )
One of the best things, for me, was getting involved in a writers' workshop and the Knoxville Writers Guild and then the suspense writing group (which is weird, because up until now I've mainly written fantasy, but it's usually had elements of suspense, so . . . ).
Helping other people edit their work will help you with your own.
I think you did really well for a two hour assignment. It's a first draft. First drafts get changed . . . a lot, lol.
Helping other people edit their work will help you with your own.
I think you did really well for a two hour assignment. It's a first draft. First drafts get changed . . . a lot, lol.
