The Ouroboros Project: Trench Rat

1

France. 1916.

The tired blonde leaned her head against the wood of her rifle. The back of the truck was packed, but not so densely that she couldn't at least take a quick hour long nap. The night before was busy. Packing and preparing for deployment to the mainland was taxing. Private Bridger. That's what they had called her. A dog tag around her neck, a gun in her hand, and a shittily made uniform later, she was sent over the channel to fight in France. When she had gone to the recruitment office, her uniform was handed to her with the name tag of another soldier on it, and a small hole in the chest. She knitted it closed herself, but the idea of wearing something that someone died in had always made her feel uneasy.

She felt she looked ridiculous, as the helmet on her head was nothing more than a bowl. That's what it looked like anyway. The Brodie Helmet, it was called. Looked like something she had eaten out of when she was still back on the isles.

But this was her first full scale military deployment. The last time she was deployed was in Ireland during the Easter Rising. She was properly trained, yes, but that didn't change the fact that she would face an enemy like nothing she had ever seen before. Despite all her training, holding her weapon felt odd and foreign. And what a weapon it was. She had handled simple revolvers in the past, but never a rifle. Military grade. Worth its weight in silver, probably.

Her squad's mission was simple. Move onto the frontline, and try to hold against the waves of demons whittling the defenders down. The men amongst her were made up of those from various religions and beliefs. Some Catholic, some Protestant, or perhaps even Hindu. A lot of the men around her prayed to their gods. Some just stared blankly over the shoulder of the man in front of them, at the canvas tarp covering the truck. Some of these men had heard rumors of what was going on in the Somme. It was easy to tell who these men were, as their faces were as pale as snow.

The Somme was a meat grinder. A million Germans and their demons, constantly charging the line. It was a death sentence. She did what she had to do to find her father. And if that meant putting herself in front of a German machine gun, so be it. It was the war to end all wars, after all. If she rose above her station, did well, she could be forever remembered. Forever burned into the texts of the history books. The world would remember her, whether they wanted to, or not.

If she died, she would at least die for the noble pursuit of ending war, and defending her home from foreign aggression. At least, that's what she was told when she first picked up her rifle. But now, en route to the actual fighting? She wasn't so sure. This was the biggest war she had ever seen, and over what? Some assassination in the Balkans? She didn't really care. Besides, her life as an actor had begun to get.. Boring at best. Tedious at worst. She longed for something real. Something to feel other than the monotony of photoshoots, or the recording of films.

Trips to Hollywood were nice, sure, but they were boring. Meet with the same producers. Perhaps get her face on a product or so. The most infuriating thing about filming was the fact that she always played the same role. Damsel in distress, or a femme fatale. She personally enjoyed playing the part of the seductress, but even that got boring over time. Perhaps the feel of a rifle in her arms would shake things up, she had thought. It was something she could have chosen to do, until her dad was called up to the front. When he went missing, it became her duty to go out and find him.

From there, it was relatively easy to blend in. Cut her hair a bit. Bind her chest flat with bandages. Change her name. Jack Bridger. That was what she had gone by. Nobody had questioned it. To them, she appeared as a young lad, who had a slight resemblance to some movie star that was popular half a world away. It also helped that she had the same affinity for women as the men often did. She was certainly a hopeless romantic at times. Even on the night before her deployment, she was talking up a cute bartender.