Personal Narrative-All Quiet On The Western Front
Crack! Another bolt of lightning stuck the war-torn ground not too far away from my trench. The small burst of light shined on the bolt lever of my rifle, giving me enough time to see my dirt covered face. The date was April 14th, 1916. I was stationed in Verdun, France. In my childhood years I had dreamed of joining the Canadian Army, and I finally got my wish. But the courageous, easy, and powerful job I once thought of it to be turned out to be depressing, hard, and it came with little to no reward. But alas, I was stuck in this foul-smelling, life stealing excuse of a trench, and I knew it. I stood up with a groan. In the distance, I could hear the cracks of gunfire and the loud, heart-stopping sound of artillery hitting the ground. I couldn’t help but think that with every explosion I heard, men would die. It’s a thought that only us soldiers could understand. I crept along the trench, towards the bunk area. I turned into the small room. There was a dim, somewhat melancholy lantern lit in the far
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right corner of the room. As I turned toward my bunk, I could barely make out the face of my bunkmate, David. It was almost midnight. I quietly crawled into the mess of my bunk, trying as best as I could to not wake up the others. I slipped under my sheets, and fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow. I woke up to the usual reveille, and swung my legs over the side of my bed. I dropped my head upside down, and looked at David’s bunk. He was still sound asleep. I kicked my legs and hit the ground with a soft thud. I shook his shoulders with both hands, trying to wake him up. “Wake up David,” I said, “don’t want to miss breakfast ‘eh?” David slumped over onto his side and groaned. He rubbed his eyes, and eventually, opened them. “I swear, the only thing that keeps me fighting those Germans is the thought that if we do fight them, I can sleep whenever I want” he responded. I laughed. He was, a little bit, right. Without the Germans, there would be no limit on sleep, food, or anything. This war really changed the way us soldiers lived. David and I made our way towards the canteen, buried underground, like everything else.
The line was, as always, long. But eventually we got what we came for. Our “breakfast” consisted of undercooked eggs, grits, and on special occasions, any type of meat. Still, we ate the hell out of it. It was one of 2 meals a day, and the one that mattered the most. With all the fighting going on during the day, we needed the extra energy. Without saying a word, we finished our food quickly and walked to our briefing section of the trench. As we were walking, we could hear some of the other soldiers talking about what the commanding officer would have our squad do in the next few hours. There were always rumors. Rumors of soldiers like us having to jump over enemy lines, in no man’s land, to try and advance in the trenches. Rumors like these were shook off, and normally untrue. That was, until, I found out the hard way that the rumors were very
real. We got to the briefing area and stood at attention. Our officer stood in front of our squad with a very concerned look on his face. I started to feel uneasy, something wasn’t right. “Squad,” he said very anxiously “I’m sorry to hit you with such unpleasant news, but I was ordered to send in a few branches of men over the line today.” The men were silent, and the atmosphere suddenly got uncomfortably disturbing. “I have already chosen the branches that will be sent,” he continued “and I want you all to know that I picked my best men in hopes that you all come back safely.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket began readying out the names of the few unlucky men who would have to go over the lines. “Harris…Vellinga…” he started. Please don’t pick me, I thought, for I knew that going over the lines meant certain death. At least, he got to the last 2 names on the list. His eyes shifted towards me and David, and he said our last names. I was in shock. At first I tried to convince myself that he said someone else’s name, but he said my name to clearly for me to uncomprehend. We both stepped forward, slightly courageous, but very unprepared for the physical, mental, and emotional torture we were about to engage in. “Here is your briefing,” our commander said “you are to jump over our most forward trench, covered by machinegun fire on our side. Your mission is simple. We have located the section of the German’s trench where they store their weapons and other arms supplies. You must get in there, sabotage their weapons in any means possible, and get out. Remember, our mission is to take out their weapons, not for them to take out you. Any questions? You launch the attack in T-20 minutes.” “Sir, how long do you think this will take?” I asked. He looked through me with dark, harrowing eyes. “However long you think you can stand” he responded. I sat on the edge of a muddy step, right below where I would be leaving this trench forever. It was raining now, and even harder to see under all the gun smoke and flashes from the lightning. Either way, we had to complete our mission. “Don’t give in!” our commander shouted at us. We were within minutes of leaving the trench. “Don’t stop for anything! You are doing your country, family, and world a great service!” We got the countdown for 20 seconds until launch. I looked over at David. He looked scared, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him possibly dying in the next few minutes. I looked away. We got the countdown for 10 seconds. The commander was still shouting, the rain still pouring, and everything began to become unreal. I readied myself. 5…4…3…2…1… “Don’t stop! Don’t lose! Win soldiers! Win!” I jumped out of the trench with David, shouting a war cry with the rest of my branch. As I ran, the rain, gunfire, and smoke seemed to brush past me, never hitting an inch of my body. The adrenaline was kicked in. I looked to my right and still saw David, who looked like an animal, running next to me. At least half of the other men that we started with, disappeared behind smoke. I knew that they were dead, but I pressed on. Through the midst, I could make out the outline of a trench. I ran faster, and could now see the trench clearly. As I plunged into the trench, a helmet popped out from under me and caught my foot. I dove headfirst into the trench but steadied myself quickly. I looked behind me where the helmet had been and there stood a man the same size as me, looking furiously into my eyes as he leapt towards me. Indistinctly, I raised my rifle as his body approached me, and caught his chest with my bayonet. Blood started to trickle down his dark green jacket, and he looked into my eyes once more, now with a look of disbelief. I lay there, dumbfounded as to what to do next. Hastily, I wobbled up and kicked the man off of my bayonet. It shone in what was left of the sunlight, and the blood washed away quickly from the rain. I took out my map of the trench, and looked it over quickly, and I finally spotted the location of the ammunition depot. “Ok men,” I started “if we head out over…” I looked around. I suddenly realized that I was the only one here. All the others were left behind. I prayed to God that the men were close by in the trench. But reality struck me to believe that they could only be dead. Now was not the time to mourn over the loss of my brothers in arms, or even my best friend. I still had a mission, and it need to be finished. I ran my way around the trench. As I dove, sprinted, and ran around corners, I prayed that the next turn I took did not lead me into an ambush. At last, I reached the depot safely. I needed to get out of that trench as fast as I could. I planted an explosive next to the crates of ammunition and readied a match. I struck it against my pant leg and lit the fuse on the explosive. The fuse was set for 30 seconds, and I had more than enough time to get out. I finally decided to run back to where I started in the trench, in hopes to maybe find some soldiers that could have survived. As I ran, I heard the voices of German soldiers close by. They had known I was there. I ran faster. I needed to make it. Finally, I got to where I started, but found nothing. The sound of German shouting had gotten too close. I jumped back over the trench. As selfish as I was, I did not care about my comrades anymore. I wanted to be safe. More bullets flew past me as I ran over no-man’s land. I looked back at the trench once more as ran. Then I tripped. Whatever I had tripped on had to be big. As I picked myself up, I had seen what I had tripped on. It was the dead body of David. I stared at it. Even the bullets ripping past me couldn’t keep me running, for the death of a friend was the only shock at the moment. I looked at the Germans in the trench. I yelled at them, screamed at them. They had killed my friend, and I didn’t care if they killed me. This war was torture. It had brought mental, physical, and emotional pain. This life was torture. I yelled more. Until I was hit. I felt a soft thud enter my right abdomen. I looked down. Blood was pouring down my jacket, like the blood of the man I killed. I fell to my knees, and then onto the ground. I lay next to my dead friend, staring into the sky. As blood started to pour out of my mouth, I smiled. I knew that my death would mean an end to the torture. My eyes started to blur, and my mind became abnormally faded. I now lay, near death, next to my friend. My mission was not to blow up ammunition. My mission, in life, was to stay and die with people I cherished, loved, and trusted. My mission in the army, however, failed. The explosive never went off, for the rain, the tears of God, me, and my comrades, had extinguished the fuse.
right corner of the room. As I turned toward my bunk, I could barely make out the face of my bunkmate, David. It was almost midnight. I quietly crawled into the mess of my bunk, trying as best as I could to not wake up the others. I slipped under my sheets, and fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow. I woke up to the usual reveille, and swung my legs over the side of my bed. I dropped my head upside down, and looked at David’s bunk. He was still sound asleep. I kicked my legs and hit the ground with a soft thud. I shook his shoulders with both hands, trying to wake him up. “Wake up David,” I said, “don’t want to miss breakfast ‘eh?” David slumped over onto his side and groaned. He rubbed his eyes, and eventually, opened them. “I swear, the only thing that keeps me fighting those Germans is the thought that if we do fight them, I can sleep whenever I want” he responded. I laughed. He was, a little bit, right. Without the Germans, there would be no limit on sleep, food, or anything. This war really changed the way us soldiers lived. David and I made our way towards the canteen, buried underground, like everything else.
The line was, as always, long. But eventually we got what we came for. Our “breakfast” consisted of undercooked eggs, grits, and on special occasions, any type of meat. Still, we ate the hell out of it. It was one of 2 meals a day, and the one that mattered the most. With all the fighting going on during the day, we needed the extra energy. Without saying a word, we finished our food quickly and walked to our briefing section of the trench. As we were walking, we could hear some of the other soldiers talking about what the commanding officer would have our squad do in the next few hours. There were always rumors. Rumors of soldiers like us having to jump over enemy lines, in no man’s land, to try and advance in the trenches. Rumors like these were shook off, and normally untrue. That was, until, I found out the hard way that the rumors were very
real. We got to the briefing area and stood at attention. Our officer stood in front of our squad with a very concerned look on his face. I started to feel uneasy, something wasn’t right. “Squad,” he said very anxiously “I’m sorry to hit you with such unpleasant news, but I was ordered to send in a few branches of men over the line today.” The men were silent, and the atmosphere suddenly got uncomfortably disturbing. “I have already chosen the branches that will be sent,” he continued “and I want you all to know that I picked my best men in hopes that you all come back safely.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket began readying out the names of the few unlucky men who would have to go over the lines. “Harris…Vellinga…” he started. Please don’t pick me, I thought, for I knew that going over the lines meant certain death. At least, he got to the last 2 names on the list. His eyes shifted towards me and David, and he said our last names. I was in shock. At first I tried to convince myself that he said someone else’s name, but he said my name to clearly for me to uncomprehend. We both stepped forward, slightly courageous, but very unprepared for the physical, mental, and emotional torture we were about to engage in. “Here is your briefing,” our commander said “you are to jump over our most forward trench, covered by machinegun fire on our side. Your mission is simple. We have located the section of the German’s trench where they store their weapons and other arms supplies. You must get in there, sabotage their weapons in any means possible, and get out. Remember, our mission is to take out their weapons, not for them to take out you. Any questions? You launch the attack in T-20 minutes.” “Sir, how long do you think this will take?” I asked. He looked through me with dark, harrowing eyes. “However long you think you can stand” he responded. I sat on the edge of a muddy step, right below where I would be leaving this trench forever. It was raining now, and even harder to see under all the gun smoke and flashes from the lightning. Either way, we had to complete our mission. “Don’t give in!” our commander shouted at us. We were within minutes of leaving the trench. “Don’t stop for anything! You are doing your country, family, and world a great service!” We got the countdown for 20 seconds until launch. I looked over at David. He looked scared, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him possibly dying in the next few minutes. I looked away. We got the countdown for 10 seconds. The commander was still shouting, the rain still pouring, and everything began to become unreal. I readied myself. 5…4…3…2…1… “Don’t stop! Don’t lose! Win soldiers! Win!” I jumped out of the trench with David, shouting a war cry with the rest of my branch. As I ran, the rain, gunfire, and smoke seemed to brush past me, never hitting an inch of my body. The adrenaline was kicked in. I looked to my right and still saw David, who looked like an animal, running next to me. At least half of the other men that we started with, disappeared behind smoke. I knew that they were dead, but I pressed on. Through the midst, I could make out the outline of a trench. I ran faster, and could now see the trench clearly. As I plunged into the trench, a helmet popped out from under me and caught my foot. I dove headfirst into the trench but steadied myself quickly. I looked behind me where the helmet had been and there stood a man the same size as me, looking furiously into my eyes as he leapt towards me. Indistinctly, I raised my rifle as his body approached me, and caught his chest with my bayonet. Blood started to trickle down his dark green jacket, and he looked into my eyes once more, now with a look of disbelief. I lay there, dumbfounded as to what to do next. Hastily, I wobbled up and kicked the man off of my bayonet. It shone in what was left of the sunlight, and the blood washed away quickly from the rain. I took out my map of the trench, and looked it over quickly, and I finally spotted the location of the ammunition depot. “Ok men,” I started “if we head out over…” I looked around. I suddenly realized that I was the only one here. All the others were left behind. I prayed to God that the men were close by in the trench. But reality struck me to believe that they could only be dead. Now was not the time to mourn over the loss of my brothers in arms, or even my best friend. I still had a mission, and it need to be finished. I ran my way around the trench. As I dove, sprinted, and ran around corners, I prayed that the next turn I took did not lead me into an ambush. At last, I reached the depot safely. I needed to get out of that trench as fast as I could. I planted an explosive next to the crates of ammunition and readied a match. I struck it against my pant leg and lit the fuse on the explosive. The fuse was set for 30 seconds, and I had more than enough time to get out. I finally decided to run back to where I started in the trench, in hopes to maybe find some soldiers that could have survived. As I ran, I heard the voices of German soldiers close by. They had known I was there. I ran faster. I needed to make it. Finally, I got to where I started, but found nothing. The sound of German shouting had gotten too close. I jumped back over the trench. As selfish as I was, I did not care about my comrades anymore. I wanted to be safe. More bullets flew past me as I ran over no-man’s land. I looked back at the trench once more as ran. Then I tripped. Whatever I had tripped on had to be big. As I picked myself up, I had seen what I had tripped on. It was the dead body of David. I stared at it. Even the bullets ripping past me couldn’t keep me running, for the death of a friend was the only shock at the moment. I looked at the Germans in the trench. I yelled at them, screamed at them. They had killed my friend, and I didn’t care if they killed me. This war was torture. It had brought mental, physical, and emotional pain. This life was torture. I yelled more. Until I was hit. I felt a soft thud enter my right abdomen. I looked down. Blood was pouring down my jacket, like the blood of the man I killed. I fell to my knees, and then onto the ground. I lay next to my dead friend, staring into the sky. As blood started to pour out of my mouth, I smiled. I knew that my death would mean an end to the torture. My eyes started to blur, and my mind became abnormally faded. I now lay, near death, next to my friend. My mission was not to blow up ammunition. My mission, in life, was to stay and die with people I cherished, loved, and trusted. My mission in the army, however, failed. The explosive never went off, for the rain, the tears of God, me, and my comrades, had extinguished the fuse.