A Brotherhood of Heroes

Originally Published April 11, 2018.

Battle of the Somme, August 1916. It was a dark, cold evening, and the guns had ceased for the night. The Western Front lit up in conversation with soldiers sitting in the trenches side by side sharing stories and singing songs; these same trenches that rang out in gunshots and screams of terror just a couple hours ago.

It seemed as if there were never fighting in the first place. For Corporals Alexander MacMillan and John Price, however, the fighting was just about to start. They shuffled along the narrow corridors of the trenches towards Captain MacGregor’s quarters with their clunky equipment, careful not to interrupt the bustling laughter and music. When they opened the rigid, creaky wooden door, they were handed their rifles by the Captain and their good friend Sergeant Marcus Burns. Alex knew immediately that this was going to be the most difficult raid on the enemy trench to date. Alex and John saluted the Captain and their battalion leader before being given one last overview from Sergeant Burns. His deep and aggressive Scottish accent filled the room in contrast to the Captain’s amiable Irish accent and Alex’s friendly English accent. With a slight nod from the Captain, the four men walked out of the Captain’s quarters and over the trench into No Man’s Land, maneuvering slowly around the barbed wire and slowing to a crawl as they neared the sleeping enemy trench. The four men located the enemy communications devices. Their goal was to destroy these devices to prevent the enemy from calling in support in preparation for the planned advance on the trench by their battalion in the coming days. Alex walked into the German communications room in the trench and sat his rucksack down on the floor while Price, Marcus, and the Captain covered their exits. Alex opened his rucksack with the quiet rustling of fabric as he opened the button, laying out ten remote explosive devices, placing them with immense care on the communications devices careful not to make a single sound. As soon as he was done, Alex signalled the three men to leave. Suddenly, one explosive device fell to the ground in a loud thump, alerting an enemy soldier to the presence of the four men. The soldier screamed at the top of his lungs and drew his pistol in fear, aiming it at Alex, only to have Price jump in front of him at the last second, taking the bullet and saving his best friend’s life. The soldier dropped his pistol shortly after, horrified, seeing close up and in person what it was like to take another man’s life. With a scream of pure terror, Alex drew his own weapon and shot the soldier in the leg before sprinting away with Marcys and the Captain as much as he wanted to stay and help Price. Bullets whizzed past Alex’s head multiple times, only missing him by mere inches. Alex ran like he never had before. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, a shot rang out from an enemy sniper and hit the Captain in the shoulder. Marcus ran and carried the Captain on his shoulder to safety while Alex detonated the explosives and slid into the friendly trench to safety. The trench that lit up with laughter and music just awhile ago now returned to its natural state; the music replaced by gunshots and the laughter replaced by screams of pain and terror.

A couple hours later, the guns finally ceased, but the trench did not light up in laughter and music like it did before. Silence loomed over the Western Front. Alex sat on the side of the trench, thinking about Price and the Captain. The two always seemed like glimmers of light in the darkness that was this seemingly never-ending war, and now they were gone. Marcus walked over to Alex and sat down next to him. After a few moments of silence, he spoke. “We lost lots of great men today, Alex.” Marcus paused, nearly bursting into tears himself. “We all lost brothers today, Alex. Now, we live for their memories.”

“What about the Captain, about Price?” Alex asked.

“The Captain needs to be sent back to England for treatment. Now, Lieutenant Westbrook is in charge. That man doesn’t give a damn about human life, but I guess it’s what we have to deal with now.” Marcus responded. “And with Price… I’m sorry, son. He’s gone.”

At the mention of Price, Alex immediately burst into tears, and so did Marcus. After a couple moments, Marcus wiped the tears from his face.

“Rest up, Alex. Big day tomorrow.” Marcus said, walking off.

The next morning, Alex walked into the Lieutenant’s quarters, refreshed and with a smile, saluting the officer and introducing himself.

“Good morning, sir! I’m Corporal Alexander MacMillan.” Alex spoke.

“I’m very aware of that, Corporal,” Westbrook responded, not even looking at Alex. “Captain MacGregor always spoke very highly of you.”

“Thank you sir!” Alex replied, proudly.

“…and I never exactly understood why.” Westbrook snapped. Alex paused for a few awkward moments before clearing his throat.

“I’ve come to ask about the planned assault on the enemy trench today. When will we be conducting the a-” Alex was interrupted by Westbrook who turned towards him and stared into his eyes with a piercing look.

“Your battalion will not be participating in the assault, Corporal.” Westbrook replied in a stern tone.

“What?” Alex asked.

“I believe it was you and Sergeant Marcus who were responsible for the Captain’s injury and we cannot afford clumsiness like that on such a vital mission.” Westbrook paused, waiting for his words to sink into Alex’s head. “Your battalion will set out tomorrow afternoon to clear a path through the barbed wire, then head back to our trench. Myself, Sergeant MacTavish’s, Sergeant Sanderson’s, and Sergeant Wallcroft’s battalions will lead the final assault once the majority of your battalion returns from clearing out the barbed wire, and you will stay in the trench until the assault is over.”

“Sir, what about the machine guns?” Alex asked.

“They are none of your concern, Corporal MacMillan. You will follow your orders and do as you are told. Dismissed.” Westbrook responded in a condescending tone.

“Sir, with all due respect, you are sending us on a suicide mission! We are outgunned and outnumbered, and there is no way we could clear the barbed wire without being spotted by the German machine guns! You cannot send an entire battalion out like that only to be picked off one by one at the barbed wire just so the assault will be a success! There has to be another way!” Alex argued.

‘Corporal, you will NOT question my authority! Right now you will proceed to observation of the enemy trench. Your battalion will conduct the mission tomorrow as instructed with no questions asked! DISMISSED!” Westbrook bellowed.

Alex immediately left the lieutenant’s quarters and went to the edge of the trench. He grabbed his binoculars and observed the enemy trench as instructed. After a few moments, he was approached by Marcus.

“Alex, what went on in there?” Marcus asked.

“The Lieutenant is sending us on a different mission tomorrow,” Alex replied, staying focused on observing the enemy trench.

“What do you mean?” Marcus responded.

“We are to clear the barbed wire tomorrow afternoon instead of leading the assault on the trench. We would be spotted almost immediately and be picked off one by one by Fritz’s machine guns. Doesn’t make any sense.” Alex said.

“Ahh, this whole war makes no sense. What’s the point, eh?” Marcus replied, annoyed. “Westbrook doesn’t care for human life. He wants to be a hero, that’s it.” Alex said nothing, staying focused on observing the trench. Suddenly, Alex lowered his binoculars and looked towards Marcus.

“Marcus?” Alex muttered.

“What?” Marcus replied. Alex handed the binoculars to Marcus and pointed in the direction he was just observing.

“Is that… Price?” Alex asked. Marcus peered into the binoculars and lowered it, happily.

“YES IT IS, ALEX! REPORT THIS TO THE Lieutenant! WE HAVE TO RESCUE HIM!” Marcus exclaimed, elated at the fact that Price was still alive. Alex hurried back into the Lieutenant’s quarters and burst through the door.

“What is it now, Corporal? I said you were DISMISSED!” the Lieutenant bellowed. “Sir! While observing the trench, I’ve spotted Corporal John Price. He was injured during the raid yesterday. We must hold off the assault until we can rescue him!” Alex exclaimed, politely.

“Corporal, I say again, you will NOT question my authority. The operation WILL continue as planned, and there will be NO rescue! This is the price of war. There will be casualties and we don’t have the time to worry about one soldier! I understand you have personal connections to Corporal Price but this is no time for emotion! DISMISSED!” the Lieutenant replied in a harsh tone. Alex was speechless at the carelessness of the lieutenant. After a slight pause, Alex spoke.

“Sir, this is not a personal matter! Out there is one of our own, and we need to bring him home!” Alex visibly started to become furious at the Lieutenant. “One year ago, I participated in the Battle of Gallipoli in a massive amphibious assault. One quarter of a million men were cut down by a powerful entrenched enemy, twelve men of which were under MY COMMAND! But you don’t see that. All you see are maps and the numbers on your little strategy books.” Alex was visibly shaking at the thought of this incident.“Legs blown off by mines, heads shot off by snipers, one by one, cut down by the machine guns. THAT’S WHAT THE MEN SEE!” He started to raise his voice at the Lieutenant. “I SENT MEN TO DIE! Their blood was on MY HANDS!” he screamed. “The sea turned a crimson red that day, and still commanders like YOU do not learn! You run away from the battlefield at the darkest hour. You are a COWARD, and you fail to see the cost of your insolence. All you want is power. You don’t give a damn about the men on those beaches, or the men right here under your command! You do not learn, and you do not wish to learn! In fact, you are not just a coward, YOU ARE A TRAITOR!” Alex looked into the piercing dark brown eyes of his lieutenant. He saw nothing but emptiness, as if he were not even alive to begin with. He showed no emotion, for he did not care for emotion, for he had no time for emotion, just as he said moments ago.

Westbrook immediately became enraged at Alex for what he said about him. He grabbed Alex by the shoulders and pushed him into the table inside his quarters, knocking everything over. He threw one punch at Alex, then picked him up and slammed him into the wall. Westbrook then drew his weapon, but quickly lowered it as he knew he could not bring personal matters into the war. He put his weapon away and backed off from Alex, turning his back to him. After a slight pause, he spoke.

¨For the very last time, Corporal. You will not question my authority. Get out of my sight!” Alex turned around and left the quarters immediately as instructed, still visibly enraged at his ignorant lieutenant.

When night came, Alex picked up his rifle and made his way over to the part of the trench where no one was sitting. After looking around to make sure no one saw him, he started to climb over the trench into the No Man’s Land, only to be caught by Sergeant Burns, who had just gotten back from making himself a corned beef stew; a rarity in the trenches. “Alex?” Marcus said, confused. “What are you doing?” At the sound of Marcus’ voice, Alex froze for a couple moments before jumping back into the trench.

“I’m going to rescue Price, Mark.” Alex sighed.

“Where’s the rest of the team?” Marcus asked.

“Just me.” Alex replied. “The Lieutenant didn’t allow it. You’re right, Mark. He doesn’t care one bit about his own men.”

“Well I’m coming with you.” Marcus responded.

“No, Mark. This is my loose end to tie. I have to settle this myself. I’m going to find Price and bring him home, and nothing you say can change my mind.” Alex said, aggressively. “And you promise you won’t tell the Lieutenant about this?”

“I promise, Alex. Find that man and bring him home.” Marcus said, reluctantly. Alex continued his climb over into the No Man’s Land.

He walked off into the darkness, turning around once to give Marcus a slight nod before continuing off towards the enemy trench. He maneuvered around the barbed wire and slowed to a crawl as he approached the enemy trench, just as he did during the raid a few days ago. He crawled into an inlet in the muddy ground and took out his binoculars, attempting to locate Price in the trench. After about an hour of searching, Alex located his friend and started to crawl towards the location, making a plan on how to enter as he crawled. When he got there, he saw Price strapped to a chair, badly beaten and shot multiple times. Alex noticed he had a massive stab wound in his right shoulder, probably from a bayonet. When Alex made his way into the area, he shot Price a smile, happy to finally see him again. Price looked up at him but was not able to form a smile or form words from his mouth. Alex made his way along to the back of the chair and pulled out his combat knife to cut the ropes that held Price to the chair, and picked him up on his shoulder.

Suddenly, Alex heard footsteps coming around the corner. He quietly set Price back onto the ground and drew his weapon, waiting for the man to pop his head out from around the corner. After a couple long seconds, the man appeared from around the corner, unarmed. He was holding a metal mesh tin, and had just returned from cooking some traditional German sausage. As he came around the corner, he was astonished to see Alex standing there with a pistol to his head. He placed his mesh tin on the ground and put his hands up. Alex took a closer look at the man, and realised it was the same man who tried to kill him a couple days ago during the raid.

“Nein! Don’t shoot! Please!” the man said, quietly but in a shaky and terrified voice. Alex said nothing and aimed the gun closer to the man’s head, which caused him to close his eyes in fear. “Nein! Please! Ich bitte dich!” the man whispered in fear, desperate for Alex to spare him. “You tried to kill me.” Alex whispered. The man looked down at Alex’s nametag on his uniform. After a slight pause, the man swallowed and spoke up.

“Are you going to kill me, Mr. MacMillan?” the man asked in fear.

Alex looked into the man’s blue eyes. The eyes were different to those of his lieutenant. He did not see emptiness and darkness, rather he saw light and hope. But at the same time he saw fear and terror, forever scarred by the war. He looked at the man and saw he was about the same age as him, and the same rank as well. He even had a similar mesh tin to his own, and it reminded him of Sergeant Burns’ corned beef stew. Finally, he started to see much of himself in the man, realising that the man was still human and was more like him than his commanding officers. Alex lowered his pistol and tucked it away. As he did this, he felt something in his pocket. He reached into it and discovered a chocolate bar that Alex’s girlfriend had mailed to him as a treat in the trenches. He handed it to the man as a gift. The man slipped the chocolate bar into his jacket pocket and picked up the mesh tin from the ground. He handed a piece of sausage to Alex, which Alex gladly accepted, nodding at the pleasant taste. This made the man smile at Alex. After a couple moments, Alex picked Price up on his shoulders. After he climbed out of the trench, he gave the man a slight nod, to which the man replied with;

“Thank you, Mr. MacMillan.”

Alex gently set Price on the ground and slowly dragged him along the muddy ground as he crawled back towards the trench. When he encountered the barbed wire, he picked Price up once again and carried him on his shoulder, careful not to get caught in the sharp barbed wire. After a few minutes, the two had hit the final stretch for the home trench.

Lieutenant Westbrook stepped out of his quarters for the first time in hours with his binoculars. He stepped onto the bench on the side of the trench and peered out into the darkness. Suddenly, he saw Alex with Price on his back, by the barbed wire and running back towards the home trench. Westbrook dropped the binoculars immediately and punched the side of the trench in anger. After everything that Alex had done to disobey his direct orders, he knew what he had to do. He picked up the binoculars and ran into his quarters, tossing the binoculars onto the table. He picked up his sniper rifle from the corner of the room and loaded it with one single bullet, just enough to kill a man. He ran back outside and took aim from over the trench. He aimed his weapon at Price’s head and pulled back the shiny metal bolt. The lieutenant did not hesitate. With one click of the bolt and a loud bang, Price was dead.

Alex dropped to his knees in tears falling harder than rain. He held Price in his arms and looked into his eyes. He couldn’t believe it. His childhood best friend was dead, just like that. He thought of all the times they had together as children, back in Hereford, high school, playing football together, and when they enlisted to fight in this stupid war. He gave Price one final salute before picking up his lifeless body and walking back to the trench. Then, he thought about Gallipoli. Gallipoli, Gallipoli, Gallipoli; the dreaded word was burned in his brain. His heart beated out of his chest, like a large bass drum in the London Orchestra back home Finally, Alex dropped to his knees once again. Price’s body slumped down into the mud but Alex did not care. For it was no time for emotion. For he did not CARE about emotion. Alex rose to his feet, and let out a bellowing scream no man ever had before.

“WESTBROOK!” Alex immediately broke into a full sprint for the trench, drawing his pistol on the way there.

Lieutenant Westbrook heard the scream and ran into his office. At this point, he had woken up many of the soldiers, including Sergeant Burns, who looked puzzled as the rest of them. A few minutes later, Alex came sliding into the trench and ran directly for the lieutenant’s quarters, gun drawn. He punched down the door to the quarters and fired one shot at the lieutenant, which missed, then another, which missed again. The lieutenant turned around and drew his own weapon on Alex, firing one shot which skimmed Alex’s head. Alex took one more shot at the lieutenant, this time hitting him in the right shoulder. Westbrook slumped to the ground in pain, but managed to grab his weapon with his left hand and shoot Alex in the left eye. Marcus arrived at the scene just in time to see Alex’s body slump to the ground, lifeless. He drew his own weapon and shot the lieutenant in the left shoulder, causing him to drop his pistol. Marcus went up to Westbrook and kicked his gun away, dropping his own in the process. He walked up to the lieutenant and threw three punches at his face.

“TRAITOR!” Marcus screamed. He threw multiple more punches at the lieutenant before picking him up and kicking him into the corner. Marcus picked up his weapon and dropped the clip out of it. He loaded one single bullet into the chamber, just as Westbrook did with his rifle a couple moments ago.

“As much as Alex hated you, he trusted you.” Marcus said while slowly walking towards the lieutenant. “I thought I could too.” Marcus pulled back his charging handle aggressively, clicking it back into place shortly after to load the round into the chamber. As Marcus finally approached the lieutenant, he said, shakily.

“Mac was tolerant. I’m not tolerant.” he said with a combination of fear and authority in his voice. He aimed his weapon at the Lieutenant’s head, his soulless eyes peering around the iron sights of Marcus’ pistol.

“YOU CAN’T KILL ME, BURN-” Westbrook bellowed before being cut off my Marcus.

“SHUT UP!” Marcus yelled.

“PUT THE GUN AWAY, SERGEANT!” Westbrook ordered, not even with a slight hint of fear in his voice.

“SHUT! UP!” Marcus yelled while turning around. “I WILL SHOOT YOU IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP!” His voice was now filled with fury and a lust for revenge. Marcus wanted to kill the Lieutenant more than anything now. “THE CAPTAIN IS DYING!” Westbrook shouted. “HE MIGHT ALREADY BE DEAD. AND WHOSE FAULT IS THIS? YOURS, MARCUS! YOUR FAULT!” At the mention of the Captain, Marcus became enraged. He turned around and fired his one shot clean at Westbrook’s head, and just like that, it was all over.

Marcus walked out of the former lieutenant’s quarters and went to sleep for the night, not saying a single word. The next day, he called for an air explosive attack on the barbed wire. After a couple hours, he heard the loud explosions of the airstrike and commanded the men to charge the trench. The majority of the men followed his instructions and fixed the bayonets onto the end of their rifles before climbing over the trench to begin the advance for the enemy trench. The air lit up with the ferocious roars of gunfire. Some men were cut down during the advance, but most stayed and continued the advance. When they took the enemy trench, Marcus commanded his men to kill them all, but stopped at the sight of the same man who shot Price almost a week ago. He drew his weapon on him and aimed it to his head.

“This is for Alex, and for Price, and for all the men we lost today.” Marcus proclaimed. Before he pulled the trigger, the man spoke up.

“Wait! Please!” he said. “Ich bin Corporal Hans Fischer. Mr. MacMillan saved my life.” Hans reached into his pocket and pulled out the chocolate bar that Alex gave to him. Marcus immediately recognized the chocolate bar. A few weeks ago, Marcus delivered this to Alex as a gift from his girlfriend back home. Within seconds, Marcus let out a loud bellow, commanding his men to stop the killing and to only take men as prisoners who refused to surrender. He gave Hans a salute, to which Hans replied with a smile.

One week later, the newly promoted Lieutenant Marcus Burns returned to London on combat leave. He travelled to Alex’s and Price’s hometown of Hereford to attend their funerals. When he got there, he saw Captain MacGregor standing next to Alex’s coffin with a crutch and an amputated leg. When Marcus approached him, he gave him a salute.

“Lieutenant. Fancy.” the Captain smirked. Marcus laughed slightly at the Captain’s silly remark. He approached the coffin and gave a salute to the two fallen men, to a friendship and a brotherhood forged by blood. He began to cry, but instead of wiping the tears off immediately as he usually did, he let the tears fall. For, at last, he finally cared for emotion.

The Battle of the Somme was one of the most bloody battles of the First World War. After 141 days of horror, the battle was halted, and the British had failed to break through the German lines despite inflicting heavy losses on the German army. On the first day alone, about 58,000 British soldiers were cut down, some only boys. The first day of the battle has been called the worst day in the history of the British and Canadian armies. By the end of the battle, the Allies and the Central Powers would both lose more than 1.5 million men. The battle is remembered today as a seemingly pointless slaughter, but its failures sparked new thinking about war tactics, which led to the massive successes in 1917 at Vimy Ridge and Passchendaele.