Brothers in arms

          The rain was thunderous and heavy as we sat upon the lines. It added evermore to the thickness of the muck surrounding the trench line.  The men had been fighting off and on through the night and had barely a wink of sleep, fearing more of drowning then that of the enemy's bayonets.  The rain had become the biggest threat, between it and the enemy there was no comparison. We'd been put in charge of guarding the Ypres line, kept in line by our Commanding officer; Colonel Douglas Riesman and his Leftenant in command Benjamin "Chappy" Breeg.

"How long we 'ave to 'old this soddin line chappy?" Private Worsham said to the leftenant in command.

"Until the bloody Hun surrenders, Worsham."  The leftenant said looking through his field glasses pulling them down momentarily to look at the young private.  

"And Private, I'm a leftenant… You know what that means or do you need to spend time in the stockade before you learn chain of command?" he said with a snide hint to his voice as he looked the private over.

"Oh no sir, I was jus thinkin aloud, this rain has been drivin the lot of us mad sir. If the Huns don't kill us, the rain will drown us in our sleep. Can barely eat anyfing without the bloody Belgian mud smattered in it. What I wouldn't give to be back on the Isle of Man right now, sir."  The young private said cheerfully remembering times of his youth back home.

Private Worsham was a young lad. He had enlisted in the aide of king and country and was ready to fight to whatever end it came to. We had been here for several months now and the summer rains had begun to hit really hard upon our Trench encampments on the front lines of the Belgian town known as Passhendaele.   Our lines were held strongly in this man made hell. We had a single sniper and a ragtag group of soldiers to stave off the entire German advance. Meanwhile, the Germans had gun emplacements, Artillery guns, and even tanks. But even they were no match for these Belgian summer rains.

"…and one… two…. THREE!... Into the hole it goes…" The leftenant laughed aloud watching through his field glasses as a Sturmpanzer tank went headfirst into a mud pit.

"And how many are they sending, Oh looks like 2 squads… They'll never get it out, that pits a doozey." He laughed as eight guys started to fondle around the tank trying to get a good hold to remove it from its muddy predicament.

He lowered his field glasses and walked out of the dug in bunker that had become our makeshift headquarters. He put his hands on his field glasses hanging around his neck and took a deep breath letting his lungs fill completely before letting it all out. He could taste the moisture in the mildly cold mid-morning air.

"These bloody rains are our sword and shield, Worsham. They may be our problem but they're the Hun's problem too. By God if they haven't slowed their advance to a crawl. Just take a look for yourself, 10 Tanks in the span of a month. 10 Tanks swallowed by these unforgiving landscapes of mud and muck. Would you rather fight the tanks Mr.Worsham? Or Fight the rain? "The leftenant said to the private as the two of them walked alongside one another through the trenches.

The young private sighed in exhaustion searching for the right words to say.

"well sir, To be all 'onest. I can 'andle avoiding a tank. I can't really avoid the rain. It seeps through everyfing. Our uniforms, our foxholes even our blankets sir. We go to sleep sopping wet and we're blessed if we don't wake up ill. 'ell we're blessed if we wake up at all."  He said trying to wipe the mud smear off his forehead as the rain started to lighten up.

As the two of them arrived at Worsham's foxhole; number 13.The leftenant pulled his cap down over his eyes and began to speak.

"Well that may be private, however just like that vile tank, we too are stuck in a ditch. But unlike that tank, we have nobody to help us out of this hole. All we have is one another to help hold these lines; we're defending and protecting those back home my boy. All we have is one another and we shall prevail or die fighting."

Private Worsham nodded his head in agreement and saluted the leftenant.

"Thanks Chappy…Er… Leftenant Chappy." Private Worsham said

"At ease Worsham, dismissed." The leftenant replied with a smile.

Private Worsham went into his foxhole and sat down on his bunk thinking about what had just been said. The rain had completely stopped but the water still flooded the floor. His feet sat ankle deep in muddy water. The smell of the moist ground filled the air and he could taste the mud in his mouth. He pulled out his canteen and took a swig to get rid of the taste and clear his throat.  Just then his three "roommates" returned from their frontline duty.  Private Thomas Brown, Corporal Frank Novak, and Staff Sergeant Jack Ryan had been out on frontline watch for three days.

" 'ey lads! Welcome back. Good to see you lot still in one piece. I tell ya itd be hard to find a replacement bunch for you lot.. How many people want to be roommates on the frontlines? The ad would be horribly difficult to place." Private Worsham joked with his comrades as they entered their foxhole.

"Ha-Ha very funny Wally very funny…" Private Brown said with a sigh as he lay down on his bunk.

The four of them had become fairly good friends fighting together on the Ypres lines. Private Brown was a lanky young man. Next to the Staff Sergeant, he was the second tallest on the lines. His hair, face, and parts of his uniform were patched with dried mud and grass. He removed his glasses to wipe off the mud that had filled parts of their crevices.  

Corporal Novak was a polish immigrant who had emigrated before the war broke out. His uniform was almost always kept clean, even after long engagements with the enemy. His eyes were cold and decisive he had the accuracy and agility that would make the Kaizer run for the hills; that is, if he could out run Novak first. It was said that he'd once taken out an enemy officer from half a mile away. He kept the leather gloves the officer wore. Stating "They're a perfect fit; it's not every day that you find gloves that feel right to my hands."

Staff Sergeant Ryan was the tallest man on the lines. He was well known for his resiliency and determination in whatever field he was applied to. The Colonels and Generals all knew of his exploits. Marne, Somme, Verdun, Even Gallipoli he'd bled and fought his way out of every one. He was promoted to captain once but after a few "words" with a superior officer he was demoted for improper conduct and was shipped to our little corner of the world. He had scars scattered around his arms and his face. The ribbons and medals that were stitched into his overcoat glistened in the dim light of the foxhole lamps. The light off his cigar granting dim light to his face, shadows formed within the scars across his jaw and right eye.

"It won't be long." Sgt. Ryan said with a grunt, setting a cloud of smoke loose with his breath.
The smell of his Sweet William cigar filled the compact room, his eyes faintly glowing in the mild light.

"It won't be long, we're goin over tonight. Even we in the rear echelon will be in the charge. We're goin to give those bleedin krauts a good one two." He said flicking the ashes off his cigar rolling his eyes as the rumble of artillery shells goes off in the distance.
He leaned forward with a slight groan, staring at the lamp as it swung back and forth.

"One big hurrah charge across NML." He said grimly.

A shell hit not too far from the rear guard outpost, a cloud of dust descended from the ceiling. We all sat there listening as the sergeant told us what was going to happen and how we may not make it back. We all knew the danger inherent in no man's land. If we didn't trip over the wires, we'd fall into waterholes or step on a landmine before we even reached the firefight. The room grew silent with only the feint sounds of machinegun and cannon fire in the distance bouncing around in the small space.

Corporal Novak stretched and closed his right hand over his left. He pushed his thumb along the center of his right hand massaging the tendons beneath the skin. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them before curling his left over his right.

"Do you think we'll make it Jack? After all you always do, even in the most impossible of circumstances you always survive. Keep us safe will ya." Novak said sadness welling in his voice.

"Hey, you're my squad right? You all trust and have faith in me right?" Jack said standing up but ducking to keep from hitting his head.

Everyone nodded in agreement, Worsham stopped wiping down his rifle to stand and salute.   
"To the bitta end, sir!" Worsham said enthusiastically.

"Then don't worry, Stick with me and we'll make it through. Follow my lead and we'll make it out just fine." Jack said with a grin.

"I've got a girl back home Jack, I can't leave her behind. So what path will we traverse to reach their Headquarters ahead of the others and not 'get dead'?" Novak asked the fire of determination burning deep in his eyes as he stretched out his arms and cracked his neck.

Sergeant Ryan pulled out a map overlaying that of the frontline field known as "No man's land". It showed all the direct routes in and out of the area, along with pathways that were no longer used.

"I figure…" Sergeant Ryan started. "If we take this path, here." He said pointing to a tiny inlet path through the mountain terrain.

"Through the mountain path we can reroute to here." He pointed to a spot on the map depicting a rocky forest area.

"It takes us some 5 miles behind the enemy front lines. It'll be a risk we don't know what shape the path is in or even if it's been captured, but it's worth a shot.  It'll bypass the machinegun nests and shelling and we'll have more chance of taking them by surprise." He continued.

"And with our guys and our guns blaring down on them, they'll be too pre-occupied with them to even think of us behind them. Once we're in, we gas them to kingdom come take the officer's captive and get drunk." He concluded as he put his cigar out in the table leg.

"Great, wonderful plan, full of holes but wonderful… Now all we need is a deck of playing cards Jack." Novak joked as he put on his gloves.

"Well, what's for dinner tonight lads? I tell ye, it's good to be back here on the rear guard where food is 'Somewhat' decent." Private Brown said with a hint of cheer to his voice.

Colonel Douglas Riesman stood in the doorway, his uniform dripping from the rain. His right hand placed upon the base of his old world heirloom pipe. He exhaled letting a cloud of smoke fill the cramped room.

"What's this I hear bout an expedition into the enemy territory, Sergeant?" He asked in a calm voice letting puffs of smoke fly as he spoke.  

Everyone stood and saluted him; he walked over to the planning table exhaling a stream of smoke from his nose and returned the salute.

"State your plan Ryan, and I'll tell you whether or not you can go play…" The Colonel said his cold steely eyes staring into Sergeant Ryan's.

"Well sir, There is a chance that this pathway here is unoccupied. If we follow this route we can arrive behind the enemy and take them by surprise." Sergeant Ryan said with confidence in his voice.

"I see, and where is your proof or reason for thinking such, Sergeant?" The Colonel asked as he put the pipe to his lips.

Ryan looked at the map and then into the colonels eyes.

"I see." The colonel said, "One of those 'gut feelings' of yours hm? Well, if that's the case then Permission denied. What would happen if your hunch turns out to be wrong? What will you do should you and your men run into trouble? There's too much of a risk involved Ryan." The colonel concluded holding the pipe just barely over the table.

"If that's the case colonel, what more risk is there on this hunch then to Go over the top and get killed that way?"  Ryan said meeting the cold stare of the colonels with his own.

        "For God's sake Ryan, you're not the bleedin S.A.S. You can't go gallivanting around the Belgian country side at your own will. There's a war going on you know?"  The colonel exclaimed.
Ryan took a deep breath and said calmly;

"If this works Colonel, We may have cut off one less front to fight on. Give us time to succeed at our plan; after we take it by storm under the cloak of darkness you give the all clear to send everyone on these lines over the top to take it by force." Ryan said with overwhelming confidence as he calmly lit a new cigar.

The room grew cold as the sergeant and the colonel exchanged glances.  The sweet smell of cigar smoke and pipe tobacco filled the air. The colonel lifted the pipe to his lips and began to speak;

"Well then, how do you lot feel bout this suicide mission? Are you willing to accept such lunacy?"
The colonel said looking upon Worsham, Brown and Novak. They all nodded accordingly in acceptance of the operation.

"Sir, With all due respect… If it's between going out in a mud hole death pit or going out in a blaze of glory taking the fight to them on their own lines. I'll take going out my own way." Corporal Novak said his hands placed firmly on his rifle.

The colonel let out a sigh, setting a flow of smoke free under his breath. He emptied his pipe and scratched his forehead.  

"Well then, though it's against my better judgment you do have a point. Your legendary for following through on your hunches so, you get one chance at this. If you run into any sort of problem in this plan of yours, you are to return here IMMEDIATELY, no objections.  You also have one additional objective should your plan succeed. That is to obtain information and Intel on enemy placements. Guns, artillery, base or otherwise upon doing so you are to relay your point information to our position and report the situation. After which we will take action to assault the line." The colonel said with a commanding tone in his voice.

"AYE SIR!" everyone shouted in salute.
                                                                     ~~~~

The night gathered quickly with an entertaining sight of tracers flying through the night sky. It was completed by the flashes of artillery explosions going off in the distance. The Colonel had given us permission to obtain any information from within the enemy lines before they would rush in. We set out along the path towards the mountain route. We came across battered and destroyed forestry's, and bombed out cabins. The ground was pitted and holed from explosive shells that had landed in the region.  The smell of gunpowder was heavy in the air around the mountain pathway.  Scattered remains of tank treads and armor hides littered the pathway.

"Oy, sir. What do you think happened here?" Worsham asked curiously looking around at the rubble as they snuck along the pathway.

"Looks as though something big passed through here or they were victims to their own artillery." Sergeant Ryan said as they walked in the shadows of the pathway.

The pitch dark sky made it perfect for their operation to succeed.  The night of the new moon had fallen; the terrain was pitch black and hard to see, there was no way anyone or anything could spot them.

"Sir, how are we going to raid the enemy when we can't even see what's in front of us?" Private Brown asked as he tried to feel his way around the terrain.

The sergeant shook his head and put his hand behind his neck.
"By sheer luck...Brown... by sheer luck." Sergeant Ryan chuckled.

The distance passed with the hours as they traversed the rough terrain through the mountain path. It seemed as though it went on forever as the trees and rubble increased the closer they got to the forest at the exit to the path. Sergeant Ryan raised his hand for the men to stop, he signaled for them to hit the side paths as they came upon a light guard detail. Sergeant ryan snuck along the left of the narrow exit getting alongside the supply hut. Private Worsham slid on the loose and rocky gravel as he tried to keep still on the slanted edge of the path.
The guards stood from their positions over their campfire and raised their rifles towards the sound of the rocks.

"Ist der jemand?" The head guard shouted into the shadows his pistol aimed and ready.

Corporal Novak placed his finger to his lips and raised his rifle aiming for the guard's hand.  He went to fire and saw the guard cross the path of Sergeant Ryan crouching behind the supply hut. The guard was two steps ahead of Ryan. He made his move,

"Oy, Suzy" Ryan whispered as he stood up.

The guard began to turn around and face Ryan in shock. Ryan swung high and hit the guard right above his eye knocking him to the ground. The guard lay in shock; he shook his head and tried to raise his pistol only to receive a heavy kick to the face knocking him out cold. The two remaining guards rushed into the shadows after their leader. The First in the charge slipped on the wet muddy gravel on the path and hit his head on a boulder. As Ryan waited for the second guard to come charging out; the second guard snuck up alongside the hut and raised his rifle butt behind him.

A soft popping sound was heard as the guard fell over dead, the smoke rising out of Private Brown's revolver.  Ryan turned to see the guard behind him and then towards the direction of the shot. The three men rose from their niche in the rocks.  Ryan nodded as they went onward down what was left of the path. They found themselves just outside a makeshift Tank depot, there was a tank crew sitting inside the remnants of a brick cabin. Ryan shook his hand forward pointing to the tank. Novak was the first forward, he made his way along the mountains edge and secured the entrance. Private Brown and Worsham made their way into the belly of the beast while Sergeant Ryan slunk up alongside the cabin housing the crew inside. He removed a mills bomb hand grenade from his vest. He counted to 10 and pulled its pin a, dropping it into the window.

He could hear the men shouting momentarily before it went off, taking the remaining ruins of the building with it.  He hopped into the tank and they headed off into the distance.

"Well we're rollin now, but we aren't going to be using the tank just yet. It's only transport ya hear?" Ryan said to the men as he sealed the top hatch.

They rolled along the countryside the sounds of cannons getting closer as they sped along towards their uncertain victory. They loaded the guns as best they could.

"If we run into trouble, this tank will be our last resort. We'll pull up here. "Ryan said pointing to the hill line just before the trenches.

"Worsham, I want you to count to 1000, if by the time you reach a 1000 you don't see the signal. I want you to put this tank to 'good' use." Sergeant Ryan said as he put the map away.

"Aye sir, but Whats the signal?" Worsham asked.

"Oh, You'll know what it is. Trust me, both you and every field scout in this bloody mess will know."  The sergeant responded with a grin.

They reached the hill line that was on the map. Novak took up a position by the trees for a vantage point. He could see the whole trench line from the trees, If anything moved he would know. Worsham kept the helm of the tank, his objective was the last resort, Use the tank to charge and destroy the lines. Ryan and Brown ran towards the trenches stopping just shy of their ridge.

"right, here's where it gets tricky." Ryan whispered to Brown.

"We have to wait for the precise moment where our field guns are their prime attention grabber." He continued.

"After which I'll take the path along that ridge and take out the forward gun barracks. You follow this path and find their munitions bunker; I want you to set this up." Ryan said handing him two Satchel charges.

The front gun barracks had a skeleton crew; their attention was captured by the sight of a flare rising into the sky. They charged their weapons in preparation for an oncoming charge. Ryan took this as his moment to action. He snuck down behind them placing a satchel inside their fox hole.

"Thanks Colonel." Ryan thought to himself as he snuck along the trench line his presence concealed by the darkness of the night.

He reached what appeared to be the command center, the officer in charge was asleep on a bunk and his lieutenant was looking over a map while the sound of Morse code filled the air. Ryan snuck behind the lieutenant and snapped his neck. The sound of the body hitting the floor shook the Officer from his sleep. Ryan stood in silence without a hair hesitation of movement as he watched the officer awake from his sleep. He arose from his bunk leary and groggy, he walked over to the board on the wall. After checking over the map on the command wall, he shook his head in acceptance and went back to his bunk. He pulled his hat over his eyes and went back to sleep.

Ryan closed his eyes taking a deep breath, he thought to himself;
"That was close, typical field marshal flunky completely oblivious to his surroundings."

Ryan went over to the radio table. He took the papers from the table and placed them in his satchel bag. He collected every piece of paper that was stashed around the command center. He looked at his wrist watch and took position behind the officer's bunk, his combat knife in hand. The explosion of the munitions bunker startled everyone and was seen as the start of the assault. It was followed by an even louder and more rumbling explosion of the barracks. The charge had begun; the sound of whistles was going off all along the trench line. The officer jumped from his bed and was immediately grabbed by Sergeant Ryan.  

"Going somewhere Kommandant?"  He laughed.

"UND HAND ME YOU TOMMY SCUM!" The officer yelled out struggling.

The charge had been a complete success, Ryan's little act of infiltration lead to ending one of the most tragic and messy fronts in history. Worsham, Brown, Novak and Ryan managed to do in one night, what it took the Canadian army to do in a month.  The Four of them were decorated for their acts of bravery and courage; they became known as the four horsemen by the allied command and were even knighted twice. But they had been given a greater title by their very own devotion in brotherhood and one that would never be topped. For it is said;

"Any war declared on brothers in arms, will only end in the defeat of the aggressor. For no opposing force or faction can rival the strength in blood and devotion to protect one's brothers."