Sarcophagus

The Front

    The bomb exploded and the sun flashed before their eyes. The dirt and debris rained down from the sky, it seemed like it would never end, the rocks made strange ringing noises when they struck helmets. The sound of gunshots resumed above the trench and the charge had begun. The soldiers glanced over the lip of the trench and they saw the enemy advancing on their position. The soldiers retreated back into the trench, the machine gun opened fire, trying to push the charge back. Checking his rifle, Rudolph stared down the line, the other soldiers hunkered down waiting for the order to charge. 

    Rudolph was a young man who felt that the love of his country and sense of duty was greater than his own life. In these trenches that sense of duty to your country was quickly diminished the first time the whistle blew and you went over the top. After the shots rang out and your countrymen died face down in the mud, the sense of national pride took quite a hit. The captain was eyeing his troops, whistle in hand. Rudolph locked eyes with the captain, he knew that as soon as the gunfire stopped, that whistle would blow and they’d be over the top. The great war it had been called, the war to end all wars. The learned who used lines like these never had to lie face down in a pool of muck as the soldier next to you bled out. The story of this great war would always be told from outside these trenches, but inside them is where the real war was waged. 

    The silence was deafening; the only thing more unnerving than the sounds of ongoing war, was when they stopped. The guns lay smoking and still, a small breeze blew through the trench, but all was still. The captain peaked over the rim and surveyed the broken landscape. Rudolph kept his eyes on the captain as he lowered himself back into the trench. It was as if it all happened in slow motion; the captain raised his whistle to his lips with a wry smile, and Rudolph could have swore that the captain gave him a little wink before he blew, and that shrill sound washed over them all. The line of soldiers yelled out as they raced out over the top, immediately met by mortar shells, fresh bullets, debris and shrapnel. The discharge of the weapons was deafening and in the twilight hours it lit up the landscape as they ran on. The cries of the wounded filled the evening air. The mortar explosions threw dirt and dust in the air, causing an unnatural fog on the battlefield. Completely separated from his unit, Rudolph plunged headfirst into a crater. He shortly regained his senses and peered out of the crater, visibility was already severely low, and with the sun going down, he could only see a few feet in front of him. The ongoing sounds of battle only added to the confusion, cries for help seemed to be coming from all sides. Then as quickly as it all started it was silent again. The eerie silence was only broken by the occasional moan of the dying. 

    Rudolph sunk down into the hole, uncertain of what to do. He knew what would happen next, the bodies would be collected. The giant smoke spewing machines would rumble onto the battlefield collecting all who had fallen. The stories differ on what happens after that; some say the dead are ground up and used for various things, others have said the ones that are still dying are saved from death only to be pressed into service against their comrades. The ground began to shake as the diesel consuming monstrosities lumbered into the battlefield in search of the dead. They scoured no man's land, the occasional gunshot or mortar shell would strike the machine, but to no avail. They almost always returned fire, by mounted machine gun or by mortars that were mounted on the rear of the machine. The occasional scream would pierce the silence when one of the people collected wasn’t quite yet dead. The machines filled the air with their diesel fumes, further obscuring the field. The only pleasant circumstance of their arrival was that both sides would wait until they finished and the smog to clear before resuming the task of eliminating each other. Rudolph hunkered down into his makeshift foxhole, if he tried to move he would be captured or killed. Exhaustion finally took hold and Rudolph dozed off, finally getting a much deserved rest.