Bury

TEN

"Get me away from here" choking on my words, I begin applying pressure to the fresh wound with a trembling hand. Tommy retrieves my medical bag, taking my place of wearing it. Cautiously, his hands slide beneath my knees and behind my back.

Once away from the bullet hotspot, Tommy lowers my body onto the floor. The stinging transform into excruciating burning, contorting my face with audible wincing leaving my lips

"What can I do?" Tommy rests his piercing gaze on me

"Bandage," I choke on the word "tape" my bring my hand to my wound. Tommy nods, rummaging through the bag to pull out the requested items after a momentary pause

"How do I ban-"

"Just do it!" I cry between heavy breaths. Fumbling for my shirt, I raise it to expose the red, hot wound. His eyes cast onto the wound with widened eyes before hesitantly placing the bandage over the wound

"Apply pressure, I don't want to bleed out" Tommy obliges, pressing down with his large hand causing me to let out a cry. Swiftly he secures the bandage before another cry could escape my lips

"Help me sit up" Silently, he offers his hand for leverage pushing against my back. My hands continue to tremble as I reach for the gauze within my bag. I attempt to shrug my jacket off but the nick of pain forbids my actions. Tommy observed my effort before assisting, with my jacket off I begin to wrap the elastic bandage under my shirt

"No, stop" Tommy's large hand overlaps my own claiming the bandage from me. His hands work around my torso with his hand slightly grazing my skin

"Tighter" I manage to mumble the word, Tommy nods tightening the elastic bandage around my torso. Once fastened with a clip Tommy lifts his gaze to mine with worried eyes

"Morphine, please..." Tommy nods, inserting the syrette needle into my skin when he retrieves it from my bag. The soldiers and the seaman have been bickering for so long, I wish for silence.

I offer a smile accompanied by a reassuring nod

"Thank you, Tommy. Really, thank you" Tommy smiles in return, rising to his feet to interfere with the argument. I attempt to concentrate on the conversation and wait until the morphine kicks in. The boys start to bash their shoulders against the boat to attempt and bring it off the sand

"How do we get off?" Alex whirls around after multiple failed tries "Do we need to ditch some ballast?" He asks the Dutch man

"Weight! Do we need to lose weight?" A soldier exclaims

"Weight. Weight, yes" the Dutch man nods frantically

"Somebody needs to get off" Alex snarls

"Well volunteered." A Scottish snaps

"We don't need a volunteer," Alex shakes his head "I know someone who ought to get off" Alex detaches from the boat's side and peers towards Tommy's friend

"This one." Alex's finger shoots forward almost jabbing him in his stomach "He's a German spy!" Alex spits

"Don't be daft" Tommy shakes his head, gripping the ladder steps

"He's a fucking Jerry! Have you noticed he hasn't said a word?" Fionn gulps and bites his lip "'Cause I have. He don't speak English, if he does it's with an accent thicker than sauerkraut sauce" Alex raises his voice at the mute soldier

"You're daft." Tommy stares at Alex with dead eyes "Tell him" Tommy says, nodding at his friend

"Yeah," Alex scoffs, yanking a rifle off a Scottish soldier "tell me," Alex closes in on Tommy's friend, snatching his dog tag "tell me, Gibson" the barrel of the rifle is positioned right at Gibson's chest. With wide eyes, he does not speak he simply stands there with his mouth wavering

"Tell me!" Alex growls pressing the rifle into his uniform

"Tell him for God's sake!" Tommy exclaims, panicked. Gibson flicked his gaze at Tommy before mumbling an inaudible string of foreign words. The force drains from Tommy's face, his demeanour slumps in disbelief

"A frog," Alex scoffs "a bloody frog, a cowardly queue-jumping little frog" Alex spits through gritted teeth. Cold water laps against my legs, sending a grim reminder

"Who's Gibson, eh?" Alex tugs at his dog tag, threatening to tear it off the Frenchman "Some dead, naked Englishman lying out on that sand?"

"Did you at least have the decency to bury him?" The shorter soldier mumbles in disgust

"He did." Tommy speaks up "I helped him. I thought it was his mate"

"Maybe he killed him" Alex retorts, the rifle in his hands shaking

"He didn't kill him" Tommy shakes his head briskly

"How do we know?" Alex furrows his eyebrows, glancing back at his Scottish brothers

"How hard is it to find a dead Englishman on Dunkirk beach?" Tommy raises his coarse voice, gaining the attention of Alex "He didn't kill anyone. He was just trying to find a way off the sand, like the rest of us" Alex's deadly stare plasters on Tommy. His words echo through the lower deck with the constant trickling water accompanying it. The water has risen to come in contact with my wound in a matter of seconds. Enduring the agonising pain, my hands push my body upright to a stand. Multiple rounds are fired towards the boat once again, causing the soldiers to duck and protect their hands as I shield myself behind a large storage box

"Haven't they had enough practice by now?" A Scottish scowls with a ducked head

"They're trying to make sure she doesn't float" A soldier further away replies with a scorned face

"Will she still float?" The first soldier directs his question the to Dutch

"Float, yes. Yes, with less weight"

"And we know who's getting off"

"No!" You can't do that. He's French, he's on our side." Tommy's words are ignored by the eager Scotts "As soon as he pokes his head out, they'll slaughter him" Tommy growls being the lone person holding Gibson back

"Better him than me" Alex snaps, his face in close proximity to Tommy

"It's not fair"

"Survival's not fair" Alex's screams, his face contorted with fear

"He saved our lives" Tommy lashes

"And he's about to do it again" A hidden soldier screams

"Somebody's gotta get off so the rest of us can live." Alex grips the collar of Tommy's shirt "If you want to volunte-"

"Fuck no" Tommy mumbles through gritted teeth "I wanna go home"

"And if this is the price?" Alex loosens his grip

"It's wrong. I'll live with it but it's wrong" Tommy sighs, almost defeated

"Up you go then" The Scottish soldiers shove Gibson against the ladder once again

"One man's not going to make a difference" Tommy speaks up once again

"You best hope it does." A Scottish man growls, frustrated with Tommy's actions

"cause she'd be volunteering next"

•

UPDATE!!
Hope you enjoyed reading, I'll see you when I see you. Peace ✌🏼

I could just hear their accents while reading this. It was fun