JUL 16th 1915
Gallipoli: Day 83
No man's land.
It's Cold, it's still and usually any sudden movement means death. The mud is thick but the dust is even thicker. A haze hangs over the enemy trench, it frightens me to think about the people inside its walls.
Really, just like Ates and Demir, they're just like us, they don't want to be here, they want to be home with their families living a life of love and without fear, but they're still shooting at us and that enough to scare anyone.
Dave and I crawl in deathly silence, over dead bodies and prickly shrubs. We drag our legs behind us and use our elbows to haul the detonator cord across the battlefield to a tree extremely close to the enemy.
"How'd we get this bloody job?" Dave snarls through his teeth.
"Cause you hit the Sergeant with ya footy dickhead." I tell him, continuing my crawl forward.
"Why are you here then?" He asks.
"Because I didn't want you to do it by yourself." I explain, flicking some dirt behind me.
We freeze. Our stomachs in our throats. Our hearts pounding. A bullet wizzes over our heads and we let our the deep breath we're holding.
"Bloody hell." I pull myself together, I look up to the starry sky and silently thank god.
"C'mon!" Dave ushers, just below a whisper.
We continue onwards, mud splatters onto our faces and shrubs scratch our arms, but we make it, much to our relief.
"Right you stay low and I'll tie it on." I say pulling the detonator chord out a few more metres.
"Why do you get to tie it on?" Dave pouts, I roll my eyes.
"Not now Dave." I shake my head and creep a little closer to the tree.
He laughs as I tie the chord to the tree. I can hear the Turks talking and I can smell their cigarette smoke. I shove the dynamite sticks into the tree and push Dave out of it.
"Let's go!" I shove him and the two of us do our best to move as quickly, as quietly and as far away as possible.
"NOW!" I bellow, my voice echoing across no man's land.
"Shit, hang on I lost my hat!" Dave scuttles forward as bullets rain down on us.
"DAVE NO!" I yell as the ground rumbles, Dave is thrown into the air by the explosion, screaming and cursing until his body hits the ground. Dirt showers down on us as the tree falls into the enemy trench. Turkish men have been blow to pieces and I've had the wind knocked out of me, but Dave was silent.
"Dave! Mate! Dave, where are you?" I cry out, he calls out over the roar of guns and I crawl over to him.
"Clancy, I can't feel my legs." Tears stream down his cheeks, I grab his hand but he doesn't grip back.
"You're right mate, c'mon you're going to be fine." I tell him.
Blood begins to seep through his tunic, his abdomen bleeding prefusly.
"I want Mum, please get my mum!" He screams out.
"Shh c'mon Dave, that's enough of that." I choke.
"I want to go home, I don't want to die, I can't feel my body Clancy I'm scared." He cries, spluttering through his tears.
Holding back my emotions, I haul my bleeding mate so he's sitting upright. I rest his head in my arms and hold his convulsing body.
"You listen to me David Green, you are going to be fine, c'mon we're gonna be heroes remember? Please keep fighting." I wipe my eye with the back of my hand.
We haven't taken any notice of the raging Battle, that's occurring only 50 metres away. I hold Dave tight as he begins to fight for air.
"Keep breathing." I tell him, he nods and gasps.
"Thanks Clancy, for keeping me happy." Dave mutters, tears dripping from his eyes and falling into the blood stained mud.
"C'mon Dave." I inhale heavily.
"I'm scared Clan." In this moment, Dave is the most vulnerable I've ever seen him. We both accept his fate, registering that his injuries have shattered his spin, punctured his lungs and will eventually stop his heart.
"It's going to be alright, God will be there waiting, say g'day to Oscar and all the other lads up there, they'll be bloody pleased to see ya." I reassure him, gripping a little tighter to his hand.
"Promise me something Clancy Taylor." Dave gulps.
"Anything mate." I reply.
"Don't do anything stupid, I don't want to see you up there, you've got an amazing life ahead of you. Promise me you'll survive this war." His eyes stare up at me as his lips begin to turn blue.
'Promise me you'll survive this war'. How could I promise him such a thing? I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow let alone after the war.
"I promise." I say, nodding my head vigorously.
"Good lad." Dave closes his eyes.
"Dave?" I call. "David wake up, Dave!" I shake his body.
"No! Dave!" I scream, I hoist his limp body across my shoulders, roaring as I use the last ounce of strength I can muster, to bolt across no-man's-land, through bullets and bombs. My boots squelch in the mud and my heart races at an unbelievable pace.
I fall into the trench, Dave's body falling in front of me. Ned rushes beside me, his hand grabbing my collar.
"Bloody hell, you're alright." He lets out a breath of relief.
"But Dave isn't!" I cry, the tears keep falling, I can't stop them.
Ned focuses on Dave and lowers his eyes, his arms wrap around my head and draw me into his chest.
"He wasn't supposed to die! Ned, it was so awful!" I bawl, my shaking hands gripping Ned's shirt.
"I know mate, I know."
We sit in the dirt for hours, crying our eyes out and wishing, wishing that life was different. Hoping that the hero status we were hoping to gain, includes getting the hell out of Gallipoli.
YOU ARE READING
The Echo Of Youth
Historical Fiction"I didn't realise that I could miss something as much as I miss my innocence." It's 1914, the world is at war, and it's unlike anything anyone has seen before. The men of cities and country towns are leaving for a cause much bigger than they realis...
