Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction; Nuclear warfare -- Fiction; War stories
‘At first,’ he says, ‘I was extraordinarily excited by my baptism of
fire. Then as the heat of the day came on I experienced an enormous
tedium and discomfort. The flies became extremely troublesome, and my
little grave of a rifle pit was invaded by ants. I could not get up or
move about, for some one in the trees had got a mark on me. I kept
thinking of the dead Prussian down among the corn, and of the bitter
outcries of my own man. Damned foolery! It _was_ damned foolery. But
who was to blame? How had we got to this? . . .
‘Early in the afternoon an aeroplane tried to dislodge us with dynamite
bombs, but she was hit by bullets once or twice, and suddenly dived
down over beyond the trees.
‘“From Holland to the Alps this day,” I thought, “there must be
crouching and lying between half and a million of men, trying to
inflict irreparable damage upon one another. The thing is idiotic to
the pitch of impossibility. It is a dream. Presently I shall wake up.”
. . .
‘Then the phrase changed itself in my mind. “Presently mankind will
wake up.”
‘I lay speculating just how many thousands of men there were among
these hundreds of thousands, whose spirits were in rebellion against
all these ancient traditions of flag and empire. Weren’t we, perhaps,
already in the throes of the last crisis, in that darkest moment of a
nightmare’s horror before the sleeper will endure no more of it—and
wakes?
‘I don’t know how my speculations ended. I think they were not so much
ended as distracted by the distant thudding of the guns that were
opening fire at long range upon Namur.’
Section 7
But as yet Barnet had seen no more than the mildest beginnings of
modern warfare. So far he had taken part only in a little shooting. The
bayonet attack by which the advanced line was broken was made at a
place called Croix Rouge, more than twenty miles away, and that night
under cover of the darkness the rifle pits were abandoned and he got
his company away without further loss.
His regiment fell back unpressed behind the fortified lines between
Namur and Sedan, entrained at a station called Mettet, and was sent
northward by Antwerp and Rotterdam to Haarlem. Hence they marched into
North Holland. It was only after the march into Holland that he began
to realise the monstrous and catastrophic nature of the struggle in
which he was playing his undistinguished part.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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