No Man's Land: Horror in the Trenches by C.M. Saunders

Author:C.M. Saunders
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Tags: World War I, Europe, War, Historical fiction, Fiction
Publisher: Deviant Dolls Publications
Published: 2016-06-30T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter V:

Caught Between Two Worlds

Harry was relieved to find Sarge badly wounded, but alive. Slinging his Enfield over his shoulder, he gripped his companion and pulled him to his feet, which was no easy task as the man must weigh eighteen stones or more, and half-dragged, half-carried him away from the jutting outcrop of gnarled tree stumps and down a slight gradient. It didn't matter where they went, anywhere else would do. Their position had been compromised. The Huns would be coming. Hopefully, the dense concoction of ground mist, smoke and darkness would provide enough cover for them to escape.

They stumbled and fell once, then twice, the second time Harry's foot catching on a protruding tree root. Each time they hit the deck it took longer to get Sarge back on his feet. He was mumbling incoherently, the entire right side of his uniform stained black with blood. They made another few yards and fell again. This time, Harry was just too exhausted to get back up right away. Looking furtively behind them, eyes boring holes through the darkness, he saw no sign of any stormtroopers. Assuming there were any left. All the time they were running, he and Sarge would have been sitting ducks for any Huns on their trail, yet nobody had fired at them.

They must have put a couple of hundred yards between themselves and the skirmish site. But in which direction? With no navigating equipment and no landmarks, it was impossible to gauge their position. They were hopelessly lost in the one place a man didn't want to be lost.

During one of the falls, Harry had dropped his Enfield and failed to pick it back up. He knew that was a cardinal sin, but he simply couldn't carry everything. When faced with the dilemma he chose to take Sarge and the Vickers gun. Mainly because the damn thing was strapped to his chest and it would have eaten up valuable time trying to unfasten it. As advantageous as having the machine-gun was in certain situations, this wasn’t one of them. Harry knew the basics, but had never been trained in its use. That was Sarge's department, and it didn't seem as if he was going to be able to use the it for a while. Not even Sarge could manage that in his condition.

A cursory examination revealed that he had been shot twice. Once through the right arm, and once in the shoulder, the German bullets ripping his flesh and muscle to shreds. There was also a wound to the side of his neck, which steadily oozed blood. It was hard to tell which of the injuries was the more serious. One thing Harry knew for sure was that if he didn't do something, Sarge was going to bleed to death right in front of him.

Working quickly, Harry cut off a piece of his webbing, ripped open Sarge's tunic, and used the webbing as a makeshift tourniquet to try to stem the flow of blood. Then he opened the first-aid kit he had brought, and pulled out a tiny vial of morphine.

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