Behind enemy lines

Day 748, 12:28 • Published in Ireland Ireland • by Nephworks

The call went out across all the emergency frequencies. The French accent was unmistakable even if the language was incomprehensible at times due to the noise of bobardment in the background. The Spanish had begun their assault and they had come out all guns blazing.

I arrived in Aquitaine as requested by the French ambasador. Promised copious amounts of weapons and ammunition to fight back the enemy already crossing the French borders I was confident we could at least hold them to a stalemate even with all the enemy tanks we could hear in the distance. How wrong i was.....

The weapons cache was empty when I arrived to stock up, whether it had ever been full in the first place was questionable but it was clear to me at the time that this war was taking a nasty turn and I had yet to fire a single bullet.

Fighting was fierce from the word go. 24 solid hours of brutal fighting, and eye for an eye a tooth for a tooth all the way. At this rate the whole world would be blind and toothless I thought. French blood covered the streets flowing through the gutters mixing with the blood of their Spanish enemies. If it weren't for the constant screams of wounded soldiers and shells flying above one might mistake this place for a slaughter house.

As usual I joined the fight ill-equipped and I did my best to hold out as long as I could. Fighting hand to hand with the enemy glorious. Everythig was so clear and simple. It was us... or them. Some might call me selfish but when it comes to a life or death hand to hand struggle I will gladly allow my selfish strain to show through, I will always choose myself to survive. Sometimes selfishnes is all that can keep a man alive in this world.

I eventually collapsed from exhaustion. Worn out not from the duration fo the fight but the sheer intensity it was being fought with. It was an eye opener as to the importance of constant vigilant training required by everyone in the armed forces. It is fights like these that really test your spirit.

I awoke half lying in a pool of muddy rainwater. Corpses littered he fields, In some places they lay in piles like stacks of leaves, in others they leay in pieces scattered by the wind. I propped myself up on my clenched fists and dragged my legs out of the water. Tears streamed down my filthy cheeks as the bitter realisation of our absolute loss hit me. The French border was lost. The Spanish had reached the interior. Reaity gripped me and reminded me of the state I was in. Battered and bloody I made my way to the remnants of Aquitane hospital. There i scavenged for medical supplies and nursed myself back to a shadow of my former self. I took a job working in a former French weapons factory, now with Spanish flags lying limp in the dead stillness of he air. I took what money I could get and sabotaged the weapons I had made. Once I had enough to afford a moving ticket I made my way to Italy. I was unable to return to our own fair shores as of yet because of the wargames. How I longed for home.

The shores of Italy were a welcome sight as our shabby refugee boat pushed itself over the waves. I made contact with Rhett Butler in Paris who filled me in on the situation and it was every bit as grim as I had worried it would be. The grimness did not overwhelm me though. I steeled myself once again to the harshness of war and resolved to make my way to Paris. If the Spanish were going to take anymore French soil, by god they'd have to earn it.

"and as they reach heavens gates,
to St. Peter they will tell,
one more soldier reporting sir,
I've done my time in hell."


Hope you enjoyed this. It's just a first attempt so be critical if you've got the time. I'm a bit stuck for things to write lately. Also apologies for the spelling errors. I'm in Poland until Wednesday and the english spell checkers which I usually rely on have abandoned me 🙁
Congrats to Appleman also.

Cheers,
Nephworks