Trench
Tommy watched in silent terror as hell rained down upon the earth. The ceaseless drum of the shells created a dull ringing in his ears, but that did nothing to mitigate the cacophony of the mortar fire. Around him, fellow soldiers huddled together in a futile attempt to brace themselves for the inevitable fate that awaited them beyond the trench.
Then a shell landed four feet from where he crouched. He heard the noise before he saw the impact, and he was momentarily deafened. Before him lay a silent commotion – a tragic tapestry of earth, shrapnel and soundless shouting. Tommy wondered why his comrades were mouthing their screams of agony instead of voicing them. When the boot hit him in the face, he had his answer.
Sound flooded back into the scene sharply, and now the screams were horrifyingly audible above the roar of the artillery. Tommy examined the boot. He was surprised to find that it wasn’t fastened around a soldier’s foot, but he discovered with a sickening feeling that the foot was still inside. His bowels liquefied, and he retched up the cold canned beef he had eaten earlier.
The flashes against the black sky soon petered out, and Tommy, too exhausted for anything else, fell into an uneasy slumber.
Hell had let up for now, but tomorrow it would come again.
