I bit the pin of the grenade and yanked it out. I threw it at the enemies' startled faces. Limbs tore from limbs as the men were blown apart. I raised my arms to cheer. Suddenly, searing pain shot across my shoulder. I automatically reached up with my hand. I felt torn uniform, torn skin; warm, thick blood gushed from the wound. I ran back to the trenches, and grabbed a dirty strip of cloth. As I wound it around my shoulder, I reloaded my rifle and grabbed a spare grenade. This was war. This was man's worst fear.
• • •
It was twelve years ago. I had been a good, wealthy boy. But I didn't want to be spoiled, surprising my parents. I went for a job as a stable hand. I had been working there for years. I had got a girlfriend, many friends, and began to love the animals. One day I went to work. But there were no other men there! I asked my employer, and he said it was because all the others were at war. They were soldiers, so I asked to sign up as well. He looked sad and said I should check with my parents. But I told him that they should be proud of me to be fighting for my country. I couldn't have been more wrong! My mother froze as soon as I said I was going to fight in the army. She began crying as she watched me carry my uniform and rifle upstairs. As I changed into the clothing I felt a pang of regret. But I couldn't turn back now. The army were expecting me. I would be on that coach with everyone else that applied at six in the morning. And there's nothing I, or anyone else, could do about it. And I was happy to be helping others.
*
I silently exited the house at five am, and sat in the chilly early morning air. It was only half an hour till the bus came. The driver looked surprised to see me ready and early.
"A very good soldier you will be - ready, loyal, and prepared. Welcome aboard, sonny!" he smiled warm-heartedly. I mumbled a thanks, and stepped through the doors. Only a few of the young men looked up. I sat next to a huddle of them. A burly-looking guy offered me a cigarette. When I declined his offer with a brush of my hand, all the men in the group laughed and said I was a 'sissy with no brains'. So I took a lighter and a couple of cigarettes, and moved up next to a small, slight soldier. When I asked him his name, he quietly said: "Chris."
We sat without talking for a few minutes, only touching when the coach bumped on the road. Eventually I asked Chris if he wanted a cigarette. He took one. We lit up, and took long drags. I knew smoking was a killer. But it made me forget all my fears, my faults. I relaxed me when I had one. I knew I could die with a cigarette in my mouth. I could be killed even today, by tear gas, bombs, sniper rifles, shrapnel, grenades - anything used as a weapon in war could kill. Soon, the other men began laughing loudly. I stared at them.
"Ya 'aven't figured it out yet, 'ave ya?" they snorted,
"Chris is a girl!" I carried on staring.
"W..what do you mean? I thought only men could be soldiers!" I stammered.
"Well, hot shot, look at this!" Chris grinned. 'He' took off 'his' helmet to reveal long curly locks of ginger hair. 'He' (now obviously a SHE) also removed her jacket to show me a partly bionic arm! When I asked her how, she told me that the bionic part of her arm had been blown off by a grenade. Later, when we boarded the helicopter, everyone was silent. One man muttered that he regretted signing up. Chris just blankly studied me, devoid of any emotions, with her intelligent emerald eyes. I guessed she must have been watching for a reaction, my opinion about this. But when I turned my head to return her gaze, she looked away sharply, then groaned as her neck clicked.
"Hey, Chris. Do you want to see something?" I asked.
She looked at me, curious to find out what I meant.I felt in my shirt pocket, and drew out a fold piece of paper. A photo, of a young beautiful girl... Diana.
"I loved Diana,"I began, "but all true love tales come to an end." Chris gasped in horror, tears coming to her eyes. I smiled sadly at her, as I started my story.
"It all happened seven years ago. I was happy, working with animals on a farm. A posh cart was going past, when the horse collapsed from an unknown cause. I ran forwards to help the unfortunate people, when a woman, Diana, got out of the cart. She had blonde, curly hair, and was very beautiful... When I offered to help, she gave me the most amazing, genuine smile I had ever seen. So I took the horse into the warm stables, because it turned out that it had only collapsed from the cold. The winter weather was harsh; I got frostbite while attempting to clean the pigsty a week later, because it was coated in so much muck that it was taking ages. The kind woman cared for me, and soon we were in love."
I stopped to take a drag of the cigarette. Everyone looked at me.
"Well? Carry on!" one man said eagerly. I burst out laughing. Chris looked like she thought I was crazy.
"Why've you all been listening if I was only telling Chris the story? Oh, well, I'll carry on then!" I grinned. Then the smile faded from my face.
"A year she was with us. But she got ill. Typhus fever. She had it so bad that she couldn't even eat. I had to force-feed her, but I felt so bad doing it that I tried to hang myself using my belt. I tied the buckle end to the ceiling rafters above her, and looped the other around my neck. I was just about to kick the chair under my feet away when she gasped: 'Please...'"
Chris looked worried, but stayed silent. I glanced at the ceiling, fiddling with my collar button.
"She stopped me from killing myself, even though she dying herself. I fell asleep cradling her head. When I woke up she was dead. The fever had taken her life. I was bound in grief, in sorrow, in hate. I attempted suicide again, but when I pictured her tear-streaked, flushed face... her soft voice, saying that last word, I couldn't. I'm a coward... I fail and fail again at avenging her death somehow. I never caught typhus fever, so my only hope is to killed in war so I can forever be with her again." There was a muffled noise to my side. I turned. Chris had tears streaming down her cheeks.She was attempting not to cry, but she was sobbing and sniffing in such a manner, I was reminded for Diana. I felt terrible, but when the helicopter suddenly gave a terrifying jolt we all came to our senses. We came out of mourning for my lost love, and younger soldiers started gabbling "What's wrong?", "Are we gonna crash?"
"Brace yourselves! We're landing!"
Chris's POV
I was immediately taken by the quiet man that sat by me on the log journey.
A kind man, he thought to offer me a cigarette. I was mean and took advantage of his niceness, laughing and almost jeering like the other men.
