The guns fell silent, and all that could be heard was the raindrops hitting the overcoats of the soldiers lined up behind the ladder that would take them over the top. The sky was overcast, grey clouds dominating the horizon for as far as you could see in all directions. It had been like this for the past month. Endless rain, turning the trenches into mud baths, allowing the ground to swallow up the uncollected dead, never to be found, recorded as missing in action.
Charlie Morton’s boots squelched in the mud as he twisted on the spot, trying to keep down the nausea that was threatening to make him throw up. He wasn’t the only one; it was the first time for many of the soldiers, who’d only been moved up to the front line the day before.
He nervously twisted the ring on his wedding finger. It was new and it felt strange to be wearing it. He’d married Elsie, the love of his life, a week before he’d left England for the trenches. She’d given him an engraved locket to wear as good luck, and he reached up and held it to calm his nerves.
“Peeeeeep, peeeep, peeeepp!” The whistle jarred him from his thoughts as it was replicated down the line by the sergeants in each platoon.
“Right lads, here we go.” said Lieutenant Jeffries. He’d come up to the front a couple of days before for his second stint on the line. He wasn’t much older than Charlie, but he bore the weight of responsibility on his shoulders lightly. He climbed the ladder, slipping slightly on the rungs as his mud-covered boots failed to get a full grip, but regained his momentum and clambered up to the top.
Charlie looked up from below him as Jeffries stood upright, pulled out his pistol and turned back to encourage the rest of his platoon to follow him. As he did so, the German machine guns started firing and the Lieutenant was hit in the head, a bullet piercing his soft cap. He fell back into the trench, dead before he hit the ground.
There was a pause as the soldiers still in the trench turned to look at Jeffries in shock. It was broken a second later by the gruff tone of Sergeant Stubbs, and Charlie felt himself being pushed in the back. “Keep moving Morton,” Stubbs said. “Let’s give ‘em hell. Jerry won’t kill themselves, will they?”
Charlie clambered up as quickly as he could. He heard the sergeant in his ear behind him as they reached the top. “Run like the blazes and don’t look back” was his last piece of advice, before running off in front of Charlie, bayonet piercing the air as he rushed forward.
Charlie took a moment to take in the scene. All down the line, soldiers were swarming up out of their trenches as fast as they could climb, but as they stood up and started to run, their numbers were culled by the sweeping scythe of the German machine guns.
A few were lucky enough to make it to foxholes carved out by massive artillery shells, whilst others tripped and fell into puddles of rain, and were pulled down by the weight of their kits. Shells started to fall all around, mixing with the tracer bullets. Those still on their feet ducked and weaved, trying to keep away from where they thought the shells would land.
Charlie began to half-run, half-stumble towards the German trenches with a small group that had made a breakout from a muddy crater. From all around him came distressed cries as bullets found their mark and shrapnel blew men apart. The charge had made it barely halfway to the opposite line before it began to falter as the casualties took their toll.
“Forward men!” An encouraging command filtered over the sound of the tracer bullets. Charlie pushed his helmet up from where it had fallen onto his nose to see a Colonel openly bleeding from a wound to his left shoulder waving at the men behind him to move forward, urging them onwards. He was cut down moments later, before a shell impacted directly on his body exploding him into oblivion.
It was the turning point. From behind Charlie, a whistle peeped and the shout of “Retreat! Retreat!” came from all directions. Men turned and started moving back to their own trenches, several cut down from behind as they tried to find safe passage through the patchwork of new shell holes.
“Damn”, Charlie thought to himself. “That was quick. I’d only just worked out what I was supposed to be bleeding doing”. He shook his head and returned the way he had come, trying not to focus on the ongoing bombardment and the prostrate bodies around him.
Then everything went dark.
———-
Charlie opened his eyes slowly. He could make out dark clouds in the sky and felt warm rain on his face. His hearing was muffled but he was aware that the shelling hadn’t finished. He was dimly aware of people running past him, and one face looked down at him for a second before moving on.
He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He felt faint and weak and was gasping for air. He reached for his locket around his neck. It was missing. He panicked and then realized that he had blood dribbling out of his mouth. He closed his eyes again and slipped back into the darkness.
————
When he opened his eyes for a second time, a calm stillness had descended on the battlefield. He couldn’t hear anything, and he felt lightheaded, as if off-balance. Eardrums must have been blown out, he thought.
He turned his head and saw that was still in No-Mans Land, lying half-inside a deep crater. He moved his arms and managed to lift himself up into a sitting position, and as he did so he saw what remained of his legs. He felt a rising sense of panic and forced himself to calm down by reaching for his locket. It wasn’t there. Where was it?
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement to his left. It looked like there were two bodies, one lying atop the other. He strained and tried to call out. “Hello?” he croaked. “Anyone there?”
There was no reply, or if there was, Charlie didn’t hear it. His mind wandered back to his locket. Why couldn’t he find it? His hand automatically went to his neck, and he rubbed his skin where the locket would usually be.
He heard a noise to his right and he turned quickly, sitting up further as he did so. Hearing can’t be that bad, he thought. No, this time, it must be his eyesight. Was that the Sergeant? He seemed to be suffering from double vision; he could see the shape of two bodies.
“Sergeant?” Charlie called out, “Sergeant Stubbs? Is that you? Can you hear me?” There was no response. Then one of the bodies suddenly sat upright. Charlie stared. It seemed to be both white and transparent at the same time.
The figure looked upwards as if he was talking to someone, but Charlie couldn’t see anyone. He saw him speak as if arguing, then look down and give an air of resignation.
“Sergeant?” he called more loudly. “What’s going on, sir?” He looked down at his own body. He too exhibited a silvery, ghostly gleam.
The Sergeant stood and made his way over to Charlie, but as he walked, he made no impression in the muddy ground. When he reached him, he crouched down, placed his hand on his shoulder and looked at him kindly.
“Alright, lad?” he smiled. “Listen, I’m not quite sure what’s happening, but the fella over there, well, he says, that I need to explain to you that you can’t come yet. “
“Come…where, sir?” stuttered Charlie, not understanding.
“Wherever it is that I’m going, son. I don’t really understand either, but it feels like I need to move on.” He paused and pointed behind him. “The fella back there, he said that you’ve lost something and you need to stay and find it.”
Sergeant Stubbs looked up and into the distance and Charlie turned to follow his gaze. Across no-man’s land there were ghostly bodies in full dress kit standing up and walking around. Some looked confused, others seemed to have a clear purpose, but they were all heading towards the same place, as if they were gathering for rollcall.
“It’s time for me to get going.” Stubbs said, as he rose and began to walk away. “Keep looking for whatever it is you’ve lost. I’m sure you’ll find it.”
“Wait! Don’t leave me here!” Charlie cried. “Please! I don’t know what I’ve lost. Why can’t I come with you? Where are you all going?” Stubbs paused and looked back.
“You’ve lost something that completes you,” said Stubbs. “That’s all I can tell you. Good luck lad. You’ll work it out”.
He turned back again and carried on walking. As he did so, he began to disappear. Charlie watched the rest of the figures on the field as they also started to fade away.
“Wait!” he called out to them all, twisting round trying to get their attention. “Someone help me! Please!!” He tried to get up to his feet, but felt a heaviness pushing him back down, and he fell back down to the ground. There was no splash as he landed in a puddle, not even a ripple.
He lay there for a long time unable to get up. Eventually he was alone. No-man’s land was empty, quiet and the night was closing in. He could hear the odd gunshot in the distance, but the field guns were now silent.
It was pitch black, the cloud cover adding to the lack of light from the stars, and he heard quiet voices talking. As he looked back in the direction of the trenches, he saw a periscope appear. A few minutes later, three figures emerged over the top of the trench. They were crawling, keeping as low and as quiet as possible.
Charlie watched their progress, stopping briefly at the body of each soldier they came across to check for signs of life. They zigzagged across the field in this way, hiding in foxholes and carefully avoiding standing up or making any noise.
Finally, they headed towards Charlie. He saw them look in his direction, but they didn’t show any recognition that they had seen him.
“Hello?”, he called quietly, but they didn’t hear him. As they reached his prone body on the ground, he reached out to touch them, to let them know he was there. His hand went straight through them, and he recoiled. “I’m here!” he said, this time in a louder voice, but there was no sign that they’d heard anything.
He heard them talk amongst themselves. “Poor blighter only came up to the front last night” one of them said. “Not much left of him now”. He checked his pulse just to make sure and then made a note of the details on his dog tags in a small notebook. “Right, next one” he whispered.
“Look at this Corporal,” said one of the soldiers who been on lookout. He held a locket in his hand. “Found this. Must be from the lad there. It’s got his name on it.” The corporal took it from him and opened it. Inside there was a small black and white photograph of a young girl. “Don’t envy her telegram,” he said sadly and then closed the locket and placed it in the breast pocket of Charlie’s uniform.
“Okay, let’s move on” he said, and they crawled over to the next body.
The locket! Of course, Charlie thought. It must have come loose when the shell had hit him. That’s why it wasn’t round his neck. But…wait a minute. He put his hand up to his neck. There it was! He was wearing it again!
Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming warmth and relief. He understood everything. He realized why he couldn’t leave before, and that now he could.
He stood up and looked around. “Perhaps it’s good that I didn’t stay here too long” he said to himself. He turned and started walking to the horizon.
As he walked slowly into the distance, his last thought was for Elsie. He’d miss her. They’d spent so little time together and had so much life ahead of them. Somehow though, he knew that they would be able to make up for it soon.