The Shot was Fired

Part Four

     Many long months had passed since that fateful day in November. Christmas had come and passed, the snows had fallen and melted, and spring had finally come. There was not a day that passed without Johann thinking about Franz. He could still hear the gunshot in his mind as clear as if it had been yesterday. He had fallen to his knees and in his utter shock and confusion, had hugged Franz's body as tightly as he could and shook it, all while screaming, "FRANZ, FRANZ, FRANZ. YOU CAN'T DIE, BROTHER, COME BACK TO ME!" He had sobbed and cried until he had nothing left in him. The sight of his lifeless friend made him sick to his stomach and Johann had never been the same since. Just as Franz had said, though, he was buried in a field far from the front lines and no man's land, but Johann made sure to make his grave. Still to this day, even out of nowhere, he would begin to cry. His body was numb, his mind was weary. It took every ounce of his being to get up and perform his duty.

      I'm so sorry I failed you, brother. I am sorry that I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I should have seen the signs, I should have known that you were hurting. What kind of friend am I? He questioned everything; he knew not when Franz had first begun to suffer, but wondered if perhaps he had always been filled with anguish. He thought back to that day when he had found Franz sitting beneath the tree and kicked himself when he thought of how he should have done something.

      It had been raining for days on end. Johann sat in a small hole in the trench, just as Franz had been. He stared into a puddle and could make out a faint reflection. His light, brown hair was cut the same as all the others', his eyes were brown like the mud as they had always been. But his face had changed, he had become noticeably thin and gaunt. Johann could barely stomach any food anymore. He smoked constantly and had no appetite or desire to consume his daily rations. Beneath his uniform he could feel his ribs jutting out from his chest. He could not remember the last time that he had smiled. The notion felt wrong and it disgusted him. How could he smile when the world was so bleak, what was there left to be happy about?

      He continued to sit and wallow in his sadness until he was approached by Captain Rudolf von Jäger. "I am sorry private, I really am. But you still have a job to do. You cannot sit here idly by and waste away. You are needed. Prepare yourself, you will shortly venture to no man's land, we have heard of an attack and plan to ambush it. Stand up, soldier."

      Johann did as he was commanded. He donned his helmet and grabbed his rifled and waddled over to the large group of men who had gathered nearby. They were all ready. On the captain's signal, they all ran over the top. Johann had a brief flashback and stopped for a moment. The rain had turned the dirt into a muddy mess, which greatly impeded his running. Still, he continued ran and ran with his fellow comrades... until *BANG* A landmine had been detonated nearby and blew the men into the air. Johann crashed hard into the ground and was knocked unconscious.

      When he awoke, he was in tremendous pain. He cried in agony. I have likely broken just about every bone in my body, he thought. He could not move any of his limbs. Is this it for me? He tried to look around but found he could not move his head. From all around, however, he heard screaming and the sounds of men dying. The noise was terrifying and only further exasperated his pain. He could feel himself covered in mud, and the rain pelted him in a constant stream of drops. *Pitter patter* against his helmet.

      I am going to die. Unless they find me here, there is no escape from this muddy hell. Are you happy, father? I am being honoured by God by dying a soldier's death, just like you always told me. Does this make you proud, old man? Scheiße. There was no point. He did not feel honoured, but there was nothing to do. Perhaps in his dying moments he could make peace with his past? He could not muster the heart. He closed his eyes and all he saw was his mother, alone in their home, crying great tears of sorrow. I am sorry mother, I have failed you. I wanted nothing more than to be by your side again, and I can't. I hope that I made you proud, that is all I ever wanted. I always wanted you to be proud of me, to be glad that I was your son. Please take care of yourself.

      Johann could hear the sloshing of boots in the mud nearby and just a second later there was a man standing over him. Not a German. He spoke in a tongue Johann did not understand. "Un ici, mes amis." The man had a gun in his hand and aimed it straight at Johann's head. I love you, mother, I have always loved you with all my heart. I am sorry that I never got to see you one last time to tell you. The foreign man cocked the gun, and in his last moments Johann thought to himself, I am coming, Franz.

THE END

"Only the dead have seen the end of war." - Plato