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Chapter 7 - AUGUSTO 1789 AE

After a couple days of getting situated in camp we got our orders. Fox company would go to the front. We were all excited, we packed our packs and checked our rifles. We did the pre battle check that every soldier does before heading off to a combat zone. This also meant we got ourselves psyched up for it.

None of us wanted to be a coward, when it hit the fan. While being idiotic youths, we were not completely blind. We knew what war was, and what we signed up for. We knew that we could die, we never thought of it before, but on the eve of when we marched out, there was little else to think about.

We saw death everywhere, I do not even remember my first time seeing a dead body, it was probably in that camp in the hospital tent, but we saw it. We saw the effects of battle, we saw the men rotating out of the front.

The look of exhaustion in their face, the dirt, the mud, the blood that caked their face. Some of them had head bandages that covered a part of their face, others walked on crutches, and many limped. The pristine uniform that I was wearing with pride, looked like tatters on the men getting off the firing line. We chalked up the looks of the men to exhaustion, they were just tired, but it was more.

I never really cared for the dead bodies. Some boys would be sick and get nauseous upon seeing their first corpse, I had no reaction. I thought little of it. I'm not saying I thought I was somehow different then the dead men, that it would never be me, lying with my face covered with a blanket.

It was a dead man, I didn't know the man, I never would, why would that sadden or frighten me, he was the same to me as a dead animal. Carlo and Nando had tough reactions to seeing dead bodies, Carlo had to avert his eyes and Nado got sick.

But the rest of the guys just solemnly looked at the corpses, not reacting. I'm sure Felix was freaking out a little in his head, but he did not show it. No matter how much it disgusted us or frightened us, we wouldn't want to show it. Some of the softer guys couldn't help it, but the rest of us were steeled by the experience. 

One of my worst nightmares was getting into combat, and breaking. No matter how steeled I thought I was, I didn't know how I would react when I was told to go over the top with bullets whizzing by, or when artillery was raining down upon me.

I hoped that I would be able to overcome the diversity, and keep a clear mind, like the drill sergeants told us. But I wouldn't know until it actually happened. This was the thought that plagued my mind the evening of our departure. Not if I would die, or how I would leave my parents and siblings without a brother, or son. My only worry being that I would break, and be a coward when my friends counted on me the most.

The next morning, before dawn we headed off, the entire company in one long line towards the trenches. About halfway through the march we could see the surroundings change. The trees got shorter and less frequent. More and more artillery craters lined the side of the path we were taking. I kept my head down in the march, a nasty habit I would keep for the war. I looked at my feet and each step they took.

After zoning out on the march my concentration was suddenly broken. My mind focused on a faint whistling sound. My head shot up and immediately afterwards a loud crack went off a couple hundred feet behind me. "Artillery!" Someone yelled at the top of his lungs. With that we quickly all dived into the dirt. I found my way into a small water ditch that ran parallel to the path. I looked to the left and right of me while keeping my head as low as it could go, with my chin pressed into the dirt.

Felix was to my left and Bruno was to my right. Felix was covering his head with his hands, I couldn't see his face. Bruno on the other hand had a wide grin on his face while he was looking at the large cloud of smoke that was the artillery shell that landed. A couple of seconds later another faint whistling sound zipped past me and then landed with a crack about thirty feet away from the prior shell.

It looked like it was off by a couple hundred feet from the path, so no one got injured in the attack. But Bruno was having a great time watching the firework show. "You crazy bastard," I mumbled under my breath. Not sure if he heard it, or if he just ignored my remark but he continued watching the cloud of dust slowly blow away in the wind. A couple more artillery rounds landed close.

I had noticed something in the confusion. The ones that land behind us have a distinct, short, couple seconds long whistle just before they land. The few that landed in front of me had no whistle. I had hoped this would come in handy down the line.

After the barrage was finished, we had to get back up, and keep going. The artillery did not hit anyone, but it had made an impression on most of us. This was our first taste of Artillery, something that everyone of us would get to know well in our time in the war. Just after dawn broke we got to the supply trench, this was the last line of defense for the frontline.

The morters, field hospital, supply caches, and other necessities were placed here. This would be the most relaxed time you could have on the front line. We all got set up in our trench. All squads were assigned areas of the trench. And we had ours. It was a very sunny day, our first in the trenches, and was a relatively quiet day.

Back then no one we knew really knew what the war was going to be like, we were a part of the first ever companies of the 9th Legionnaires. Before the war there were only three divisions of Legionnaires, but with the war declared six more were created, all green recruits.

Some of the officers were from other units with experience, but most of the officers were from before the war, and had little to no experience in modern warfare. We quickly got into the rhythm of living in the trenches.

We would sleep when we could, eat when it was available, but in the supply trench we mostly just did maintenance and helped upgrade and fortify the line. The most important thing that we would do was dig dugouts, in case of artillery strike. There were a couple already built, but they were made for only one or two people, we got to digging bigger, Some could hold an entire squad and later in the war they were so elaborate that why could hold an entire platoon.