The Order

Day 1,990, 13:56 • Published in United Kingdom United Kingdom • by Henry Hank Moody

Hello dear readers. This is the next installment of the Tank Nation Chronicles. If you enjoy it let me know in the comments below and please shout it to spread the story.

Much love folks.

“Get your fat ass of the ground Sarge.” The voice was faint, almost negligible to my swimming conscience. It was the slap, or three, that really pulled me, kicking and screaming, back into the hell of war.

As my eyes flickered open once again I was greeted by the gap toothed smile of an old comrade. Nay an old friend.

“Axeell?”

“The very same.”

“Holy hell.” I didn’t have much time to savour the reunion as another shell exploded nearby showering us with yet more dirt and needles.

“Come on sir, Captain Deepfryedmarsbar is just over the ridge.” Half dragging and half carrying me Axeell “The Dragon Fluffer” Sabo took me to my station. On the way we passed the broken body of Private Mason, a young rookie who now lay in several places across the forest floor. I almost stepped on one of his legs and vomited as his head dropped out of a tree just two feet in front of me.

“Ignore him sir,” Axeell muttered as he thrust my rifle back into my quavering hands and pointed towards the distant enemy. They were nothing but mere specks in the distance, yet me and my comrades began to squeeze our triggers in the hopes that one of us would get lucky.

“Moody?” I almost jumped right out of my skin as the hand grasped my shoulder. It took all my will power to stop myself turning in a blind panic and emptying the entire clip into my Captain's face.

“Captain.” I would have saluted but the maniac grin on DeepFry’s face shocked me. He was loving this. There was a deep cut on his face from a snipers bullet which came just too close for comfort and he was limping from a badly sprained ankle but he was in his element. He was experiencing sheer exhilaration and at that moment I both hated and admired him. Wanted to be him and wanted to kill him.

“We’re going to have to push onwards. If we stay here it’s only a matter of time before their mortars and artillery actually get a lock on us.” I looked him in the eye and I knew what was coming. I knew it and I clasped the hilt of my knife out of sheer terror. “Take your men Moody and push up the middle. I’ll take half of what’s left up the left flank and Lieutenant D I W will take the right. Hopefully at least one of us will make it up and give them a taste of some good old British steel.”

Hopefully at least one of us will make it up? You have got to be kidding me. There is no way I am throwing my life away on some suicidal death charge up a slope, against heavy artillery and machine gun fire. What the hell do you think I am?

I closed my eyes and gripped my knife as tightly as I could. My Captains words were white noise to me now as I took a deep breath and inched the blade from its scabbard.