The weather was gloomy that day. The clouds hovered over the trenches, blocking the little rays of sunshine all the soldiers were wishing to bask in. No Man’s Land was silent, and neither the French nor Germans dared cross it. Everyone was on edge. Both sides were ready to either attack or counter attack, but the troops sat there in their trenches, camps, or on tree stumps, restless, waiting for either one to strike.
The newest of the groups, brand new recruits fresh from England or somewhere in France, were sent immediately to the frontlines. While the majority felt pity for the poor souls whose eyes were already bulging out of their sockets and their knuckles turning white at clutching their bayonets, others felt a sick satisfaction watching inexperienced men, charge the frontlines and trenches and meet their inevitable doom.
“Look at them, Detienne,” Sergeant Reinhardt chuckled, “young, inexperienced, and fearing for their life.”
Corporal Deitenne turned to Reinhardt, a brow raised, “You find it entertaining, Sergeant Reinhardt? Young men, some fathers, scared shitless on the frontlines?”
“Hilarious, Detienne!” the sergeant roared but not so loud as to call attention to the two, “They’re like babies, released too early from their mothers! Cowards is what they are!”
Corporal Detienne rolled his eyes and sunk back in his seat, taking a puff of his cigarette. He looked to the trenches, the helmets bobbing and some stationary, one could even assume they were dead. Detienne’s brows furrowed, surveying the group. Others had been there for over a year since 1915 while others arrived a few days ago from a truck that drove away as fast as it came.
There were a few, screaming and shouting bloody murder, chasing for the truck. A futile effort, Detienne scoffed at the time, but he remembered, vividly, the looks of terror and damnation in the young ones eyes. It wasn’t just the young ones. There were older ones as well, most likely in their thirties or early forties. It took awhile for the others to pry their manic comrades from the ruins of an evacuated village, but soon the men were silenced. Detienne thinks that the men were silenced a bit too much as during supper, they ate with such extreme silence one could hardly determine if they were even chewing.
“Well, Corporal,” Sergeant Reinhardt stood up and tossed his cigarette to the ground, “It doesn’t seem like the Germans will be attacking this time.”
“You are too complacent, Sergeant Reinhardt,” Detienne said. “Do not come screaming to me if you find a shell has entered your body.”
The sergeant laughed, “And you, my friend, are much too on your toes. If I find a shell in my body, you will be the first to know.”
With that the sergeant departed for his tent, grabbing a slice of bread and a can of beans for a snack. Detienne sighed, tossing his cigarette on the ground and descended to the trenches and tents of the rest of the men. All the men yawned and slouched, their eyes sunken in and some already looked thinner than a bamboo. The corporal snaked through the soldiers, hoping not to be seen, but luck would not be on his side.
The Corporal stood out like a sore thumb in the muddy uniforms and rust colored stains of those in the trenches, but he wasn’t met with scowls or snarls from the soldiers. They welcomed Detienne with small smiles while some even waved and whistled at him. He took his usual place under a birch tree, seated with a few of the more experienced recruits. The four soldiers he joined smiled at him, offering him some bread and beans along with half a mug of ale or what tasted like ale anyway.
“It’s been a long time, Corporal Detienne,” the older of the soldiers, Hallman, said with a tired smile. “Sergeant what’s-his-name keeping you from us?”
Detienne laughed, “You could say that, but I despise every second I spend with that man.”
“Á cent pour cent!” Eugene, the youngest at the ripe age of twenty-two, cheered. “We roll our eyes whenever that bastard Reinhardt barks orders! Talking like he wasn’t in our place a year ago.”
“Shhh!” the most boisterous of the group, Alderman, said. “You’ll wake the sleeping beast!”
The whole group laughed including Detienne. The clouds soon dispersed and night soon fell upon the camp. The five men gathered around their fire with their supper, chatting away, joking about the higher officials and their cockiness. By this time, the higher ranks were sound asleep like babies in their tents while the rest of the soldiers took shifts in guarding the trenches.
Everyone wished for a quiet night and that the Germans lay dormant that day. The night grew silent with only the few cracks of firewood and smoke filling the silent tension in the air. Detienne stood with his group, looking past No Man’s Land and into the vague outline of the German trenches. Barely any movement could be seen, but Detienne knew that he shouldn’t be complacent like Reinhardt.
Talbert, the most quiet of the five men, spoke, “Do you think they’ll be attacking, Corporal Detienne?”
“I...I am not so sure, Talbert,” Detienne replied. “Let us just hope that they will lay dormant for now.”
Hallman pranced around in circles with his rifle, unwilling to sit down. Detienne and the others observed as he did his fifth or sixth lap before Alderman rose to claim Hallman.
“Is something the matter, Hallman?” Detienne asked, handing a flask with whiskey to him.
“Yes, something is the matter!” Hallman replied, gulping whatever was left in the flask. “The Germans haven’t launched an attack, and who knows when the devils will do so!”
Hallman was experienced in war by this point. He’d served the longest out of the five and even fought multiple battles before. The four tried calming Hallman down, continuously reminding him of his expertise in warfare, but nothing seemed to work. The restless soldier continued prancing and walking around like a madman. The four could only do as much as watch.
Talbert kept watch with the others in the trenches and even volunteered as a medic. He’d trained in a hospital before the war and enlisted in hopes of becoming a medic, but he was shoved in the frontlines before he could object. Alderman and Eugene soon got up and walked over to those camping around the machine gun, inciting conversation and eruptions of laughter. Detienne turned to the restless Hallman, staring at him for a while before rising from his seat.
Reinhardt’s tent swung open and the sergeant called the corporal in. There were two other individuals in the tent, Captain Isadore and Lieutenant Pickard, who were seated at a makeshift table. Reinhardt offered the seat beside him to Detienne and rolled out a map on the table.
“What is this?” Detienne asked.
Captain Isadore began, “I will get right to the point. We have noticed that you, Sergeant Reinhardt, and your squadron have been performing extremely subpar as of late.”
Lieutenant Pickard continued, “To assist you in your growing incompetence, we would like you, Corporal Detienne, to accompany Sergeant Reinhardt in his station.”
Detienne received the news fairly, nodding slightly but glancing towards Reinhardt, whose precious ego had been deflated. There was a very big downside frown cast upon Reinhardt’s face, and his face darkened as he slouched further into the chair. He looked like a child who’d been denied to buy candy at the store. Captain Isadore and Lieutenant Pickard only turned to each other briefly before continuing their statement.
“We would also like to take this time to congratulate you, Corporal Detienne, on your continuous hard work,” Lieutenant Pickard smiled. There was the faintest glimmer in his eyes as he glanced past Reinhardt and his gloomy state of being. It almost looked like he enjoyed the scene.
Captain Isadore cleared his throat, “That is all we came to discuss. Any questions?”
Reinhardt raised a hand, “I don’t see why you’re targeting me in such an outright manner. There must be plenty more leaders with growing incompetence and much graver mistakes than I have!”
Reinhardt was almost shouting at this point, but he tried keeping his temper in check in presence of the captain and lieutenant. Detienne only glanced ever so slightly at Reinhardt who was fuming underneath his crossed arms and permanently knitted eyebrows. Detienne shifted in his seat, slowly distancing himself from his fuming colleague.
“You are correct there, Sergeant Reinhardt. You are not the only one with growing incompetence,” Captain Isadore replied. “But, you are also one of the only few who had four men die in two days and six men injured in the span of three. Not to mention you and your accident with barbed wire a week ago.”
Reinhardt scoffed, “But why must you assign Detienne to supervise me? He is a rank below me! Why can’t you just let me off with a warning and see if I’ll improve!”
“Eh bien! So, you do have some sort of a backbone!” Captain Isadore chuckled. “Sergeant Reinhardt, you’ve suffered more casualties than anyone else in your rank, and so far, Corporal Detienne has suffered only one.”
The tension built up quickly between the captain and the sergeant. Both, especially Reinhardt, were glaring holes into each other's souls. Reinhardt’s face darkened even more, and his brows were almost forming a unibrow as he glared. Captain Isadore only stroked his mustache and leaned back into his chair, turning to Lieutenant Pickard to carry the conversation. Corporal Detienne scooted further from Reinhardt, not wanting to be the inhabiting demon’s dinner.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Lieutenant Pickard stuttered to carry the conversation, “Well...um...Well, is that...is that all, Captain Is...Isadore?”
Captain Isadore nodded and stood up. The rest of the men followed, including Reinhardt, who spitefully shook the captain’s hand and glared into his soul even after the party dispersed.
Detienne stood a few meters from the tent, revelling in the silence of the night. It was much colder than earlier with the fires only being reduced to dots in the mere distance. Footsteps crunched against the dry dirt behind him. Detienne turned locking stares with Captain Isadore. The captain smiled, his grey whiskers turning upwards. Though his eyes were as dark as the night, they stood out underneath moonlight, drooping slightly but squinting as he smiled.
“Evening, Corporal Detienne,” Captain Isadore stood beside him and stared into the open land. “What did you think of Sergeant Reinhardt earlier?”
Detienne paused, “I...I do not think it my position to comment on the sergeant’s words—”
“Eh bien! This is no place for formalities or automatic respect!” Captain Isadore interrupted. “I am asking you as a fellow comrade not a captain.”
“It was, for me at least, very uncalled for, sir,” Detienne replied. “I do not see how he was able to become a sergeant anyways.”
Captain Isadore laughed, “I do not know either, Detienne, but life is like that. He was a good soldier when he first came, but now he is… What is that expression we say?”
“Avoir les chevilles qui enflent,” Detienne said. “He thinks too highly of himself. He most likely hates my very being now.”
“Maybe he does,” Captain Isadore chuckled. “Get some rest, Detienne. You have a very grumpy troll to handle tomorrow.”
Captain Isadore’s words could not be truer. The moment the sun peeked through the horizon, getting Sergeant Reinhardt out of his tent without such a murderous look on his face was next to impossible. While the rest of the soldiers ignored or avoided Reinhardt, some got entertainment out of his misery. Reinhardt took his breakfast alone, far from anyone in the camp. Detienne looked at him from afar, feeling both pity and annoyance.
“Is it really true, Detienne?” Alderman whispered, “you’re babysitting the grumpy beast over there?”
Hallman laughed, “Ha! Of course, it is, Alderman! Detienne over here is one of the finest soldiers I’ve met!”
Detienne rolled his eyes, “I do not want to put a bright red mark on me. Reinhardt already hates me enough.”
“Eh bien! So what if that beast hates you?” Eugene commented. “He can’t kill you since you’re under both Captain Isadore’s and Lieutenant Pickard’s protection!”
Talbert smiled in the slightest, “Let us hope his ego does not get in the way of his service.”
The four men laughed while Detienne only chuckled slightly. He glanced in the general direction of Reinhardt. The sergeant stared off into the distance, his glare piercing through whatever he would stare at. Detienne’s shivered slightly and shifted in his seat. While the rest of the men laughed and joked about him being Reinhardt’s babysitter, he felt his heart beat rapidly as he prepared for the day’s events.
Instead of going to his usual post, Lieutenant Pickard accompanied Detienne to Reinhardt’s general area. Lieutenant Pickard was very well aware of Reinahrdt’s conduct and his new hatred for him, Captain Isadore, and now Corporal Detienne. The lieutenant advised Detienne to observe from a distance and only intervene with Reinhardt if absolutely needed. There was enough tension from last night, and no one wished to add to it today.
Detienne stood a few meters away from Reinhardt as he barked commands, which were more so centered around nitpicking rather than actual commands. He wanted to intervene and tell Reinhardt to stand down and leave the soldiers be, but the momentary glares and stares Reinhardt shot at Detienne were enough to deter him farther away.
Reinhardt approached Detienne with a cold and piercing stare and stood in front of him, fists balled, “Do not get in my way, Detienne.”
Detienne held his stoic and blank expression, “I am here to supervise you. I will interfere only when necessary, Sergeant Reinhardt.”
“Psh, don’t interfere at all,” Reinhardt growled.
Reinhardt stomped away, barking more orders. Detienne took a deep breath and sighed, watching Reinhardt disappear into the trenches. Hallman and Talbert waved Detienne over, and Detienne, relieved, ran and jumped into the trenches with them.
“I thought you two were in the West,” Detienne smiled, taking a seat.
Hallman shrugged, “Eh, we were assigned here today. Alderman and Eugene are not far off as well.”
“I was turned medic today,” Talbert sighed in relief. “I cannot shoot a gun for the life of me.”
Loud shouting and people rushing to get their weapons interrupted idle chats. Everyone scrambled to their feet, some gulping down their breakfast whether it be bread or whiskey, and got to getting their rifles. Gunshots and ammunition flew into the air as smoked once again filled the battlefield. The Germans had struck first, throwing a few grenades then firing machine guns at them.
From where Detienne stood, there were already three lifeless bodies, gunshot wounds spotted them like polka dot print. The others dragged the corpses away while the rest loaded ammunition and fired into the field. Detienne scrambled around, helping the others, barking orders much more efficiently than what Reinhardt did a while ago. Hallman was right beside Detienne while Talbert disappeared in the trenches, rushing to provide first aid to those who needed it.
Detienne squeezed through the soldiers, spotting Alderman reloading his rifle. He approached him but paused, looking towards the sky and seeing the very faint silhouette of a grenade. Detienne’s eyes grew wide and he rushed towards Alderman, tackling him to the ground, putting distance between them and the grenade. The grenade went off, dirt and what not splattering and scattering everywhere. Alderman’s breath quickened and he sighed with a smile.
Detienne reached out his arm to Alderman, “Are you alright, Alderman?”
“I am now,” Alderman replied, standing. “Thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I would be a grounded Alderman.”
The two chuckled and soon departed once more as Detienne snaked through the trenches. He searched for Reinhardt, not having seen him since the first rounds of ammunition flying through the air. He shuffled through the crowd, examining faces as they rushed past him. He looked from those reloading the rifles to those who helped with the machine guns, but Reinhardt was nowhere to be found.
Detienne focused his attention on the troops momentarily. He aided those who were injured, giving them to the medics while some were put on a stretcher. Detienne did not handle any of the rifles, that was not his job that day. He only aided in it, after all, he was only supervisor and his supervisee was nowhere to be found.
“I see him, Detienne!” Hallman exclaimed from a distance.
Reinhardt was climbing a ladder out of the trench. Detienne dropped whatever he was doing, finding the nearest ladder and climbed out of the trench. He ran over to Reinhardt, who already stopped in his tracks as he saw the corporal running towards him. Detienne stopped a few meters from Reinhardt, catching his breath. Reinhardt’s brows furrowed in anger and his stare was still as cold as earlier.
“Sergeant Reinhardt, where have you—”
Detienne couldn’t even finish his sentence. Reinhardt charged towards him, tacking him to the ground. Hallman was the first to see it and pulled Alderman with him out of the trench. The two dashed towards Detienne and Reinhardt as they struggled on the ground. Detienne tried pushing Reinhardt off him, but the sergeant was both heavier and much leaner than him.
Hallman tried prying Reinhardt off Detienne to no avail. Even the combined efforts of both him and Alderman were futile against the rage fueled Reinhardt. Eugene caught side of the commotion, motioning for Talbert to follow suit once he was done bandaging a soldier. The three, Hallman, Alderman, and Eugene all tackled Reinhardt off Detienne. Detienne heaved, breathing heavily as he watched Reinhardt free himself from the three men’s grasp.
Reinhardt glared at Detienne, reaching for his revolver, “Bastard.”
“Reinhardt, have you gone mad?!” Detienne screamed. “You do not have to kill me to satisfy your rage and burning hatred for me!”
Talbert arrived, stopping a short distance from the rest. Reinhardt had his hand on his revolver while Hallman, Alderman, and Eugene stood a few short meters from Detienne. Talbert turned towards the trenches, his eyes growing wide. In the distance, the German’s pushed and turned a cannon, loading the munition and aimed it to the general direction of the group.
Reinhardt pulled out his gun, aiming it at Detienne, whose hands were already up in the air. Talbert shouted at the group, warning them of the cannon. A loud bang pierced through the air. Talbert ran towards Detienne, shoving him out the way. Eugene reached for Talbert’s arm, pulling him out of harm’s way while the other two caught Detienne as he fell.
Reinhardt turned towards the field, his eyes growing wide but could not act in time. The cannonball dashed through the air and right into Reinhardt. He was but a blur as he was flown back into the farthest area of the camp. The five stood up, running towards the trenches to cover themselves from the rain of shells and gunfire. Detienne looked up momentarily and into the trees, they had to recover the corpse somehow.
The gunfire ceased once the sun had set. Both parties were down to their lowest reserves of ammunition and had to wait until the next delivery. Detienne rushed to find Captain Isadore and Lieutenant Pickard and along with Eugene, Alderman, Talbert, and Hallman, they went to where Reinhardt’s corpse was.
Reinhardt was almost unrecognizable when the party found him. Lieutenant Pickard could not hide his expression of disgust and repulsion as they stumbled along the corpse. Reinhardt’s eyes were wide open and his revolver was not too far from his hand.
“What a way to go,” Hallman commented. “Try to kill your comrade and get blasted into oblivion.”
“At least none of you were harmed,” Captain Isadore said. “Especially you, Detienne. You could have joined him.”
Alderman shrugged, “He definitely was half the man he used to be.”
That much was true, in regards to the corpse. The cannonball had ripped Reinhardt’s body in half. The party found the lower half first, sprawled and drenched in a pool of blood. The red liquid splattered everywhere on the trees and grass. The upper half was found a few meters away with less blood but many more organs and insides, leading a trail from the two halves.
“We will send the medics to take care of this,” Captain Isadore said. “For now, do join us, all five of you, for dinner.”
Eugene smiled, “Gladly, sir.”
Captain Isadore turned to Detienne, “And maybe we can sort out a promotion for you.”