Weird Thoughts

Thetinoia

[thee-tee-noi-uh] 

noun 

A mental condition characterized by delusions of acceptance,inclusion and positivity. Considered to be the opposite ofparanoia. 

Northern-France, 23rd of July 1916 

The landscape has been beautifully blackened. Its ashen hue reminds me of a smoldering hearth after a long day's labor. Every time I want to see it, I have to stand on my toes to peer out of the trench. The surrounding stillness is like honey to the ears. We accomplished that. Every captain, colonel and corporal. 

I smile as I look left and right. Noses pointed towards the north, fine specimens of soldiers flank me. Their grins reach their ears, as eager as when black lands were green, when leaves fell instead of grenades, when grass grew instead of barbed wire. 

Humming a tranquil tune, I wait for the whistle signal. Earlier today, such shrieks had echoed across the trench. One long burst. Two. Three. Hailing a visit from our competition. 

The soldier beside me is a stranger, perhaps a potential new friend. My gaze travels down to a growing wet spot on the crotch of his uniform. Must've drunk too much water. I guess nobody can... 

The silence is broken by one long whistle. It begins. Dear Lord, finally our charge begins! Men cheer to the top of their lungs. Drawing some gazes towards me, I join their happy harmony. 

 As I ascend the trench, the war's percussion starts. Noise erupts. Men run. Bullets fly. My gaze flashes to the soldier beside me. Our eyes meet. He shouts. 

"Private! We--" 

His head snaps back as if God himself had struck it. As blood mixes with the smoky air, he falls back into the trench. The bullet struck the soldier to death and me as being funny. You wouldn't get the joke. You had to be there. 

Since our boots now cross the black lands, many soldiers hide in craters. They lay down and fire forgotten bullets. Why not meet the Germans head on? After all, they've kindly ignited fireworks to enliven our journey. 

The rapid tapping of German bullets harmonizes with the bass of their explosives. Geysers of fire and dirt erupt, swallowing soldiers. 

Another blast. Mere feet off my right and knocking me right off my feet.I tumble to the ground, smoky sky filling my vision. For a moment, like a broken compass my mind is. A few seconds amid the black lands need to pass before I can gather my thoughts. 

I get up, take my rifle and run. Only a few paces until my destination. Most of my fellow soldiers have run past or sleep behind me in the dirt. 

Screams now appear above the shooting and explosions. Screams in many different languages. Screams announcing my fellow soldiers' arrival at the Germans. 

I look into a trench brimming with battle. My ankles protest the rough landing after I've jumped in. A German, compelled by either fight or flight, confronts me. Forcing him against the reverse slope, my eager bayonet is driven into his chest. 

His blonde teeth are revealed in a smile. Empty hands clutch my weapon, but strength seems to leave his body. 

"Nein. Bitte. Nicht notwendig!" 

Must be German for "Touché, my worthy opponent." What a charming chap. 

German teeth flash once more, before the soldier collapses. He joins the men in the mud. The only left standing now wear my uniform. 

I climb out of the reverse slope. A few scattered men flee into former German territory. Some catch bullets with their backs, others survive. I can't help but grin. 

At first, the thought of war made my skin crawl. But eventually bullets, screams, and bombs become sweet melodies. Here's to it lasting until the end of all.