The first day was perfect weather, When sticking our heads over the wall of the trenches we could see the entire battlefield. We could see the other two lines of trenches, the wide space in between our and the O.R. trenches, and in the distance I could see the O.R trenches, the parapets that stuck out somewhat, that held machine guns.
Every couple of minutes there would be a crack in the distance, sniper fire potentially, or if it was louder crack it was artillery. I was never part of any artillery company so I never knew how it worked, but it seemed to almost be random, at random times, random places. I Heard a shell whistling in the air above me, we all dove into the dirt slits for cover. About five seconds later the shell landed around three hundred meters behind us. There were a couple shells that landed there. After the shelling was over we all laughed.
"These dame O.R guys couldn't hit the broadside of a barn" Bruno said excitedly after pulling his head back into the trench from watching the clouds of dust slowly blow away in the wind. "They're probably sighting in the guns, don't get too excited" Marco said as he was cleaning his revolver.
"That means that there's new guns in the area then right " Carlo said while leaning back sitting in a dirt bench that was dug into the side of the trench. "Damnit, didnt think about that" I said while peeking over the trench towards the general area of O.R. side. "Yes, probably means they have brought more guns in the A.O… Luca, I wouldn't always be peaking over the side, The major said that snipers have already wounded several men". As soon as he said that I ducked my head back in the trench. "Could have said that a bit sooner" I said while grimacing.
"Does that mean that something big is going to happen?" Nando said leaning on his rifle, wiping the sweat forming on his forehead with the back of his hand. "Lets hope, I'm dying of boredom just digging here all day." Bruno replied. Marco looked up from his revolver, and wiped his hand from the gun oil he was using to clean. "Lets just hope it stays this quiet".
Marco looked at him. "Nah, fuck that, I wanna get me my first body, if only I could shoot back at the guys throwing artillery at us" Bruno said. "Have you tried pointing your gun in the air and firing, it's basically the same concept" Adrian chuckled while aiming an imaginary gun in the air. "Hmm, I haven't thought about that," Bruno said as he picked up his rifle and aimed it into the sky.
"Luca, think I could hit him". I looked at the man, holding his rifle pointing it to the general area of the O.R lines. "If you do, I'll give you everything I own," I said, chuckling with Adrian. "... I'll take that deal, that's a damn good deal" he says looking into the iron sights of the rifle. "Bruno, the Major said that he doesn't want any negligent discharges" Bruno looked at the sitting sergeant. "It's not negligent if I can hit him" He said with a grin.
This was my first day experiencing trench warfare. It was not like how the recent motion pictures described it. It was not constant fear, constant action, constant barrages, the Generals were not all incompetent idiots, some were actually good at their job. Most of my experience in the back trenches was boredom, digging, shooting the shit with my buddies waiting for something to happen, every once in a while a few artillery shells would land somewhat close and we would duck.
After our four days in the supply trench were finished we would move to the reserve trench. The reserve trench was much deeper and much more put together than either of the other trench lines. This is where most of the soldiers would be, not on the firing line, but just behind to be able to give an effective counter attack.
We were the backup, if an attack came, we would need to be ready, to counterattack and if needed to be, push them back out of the firing line. This heightened sense of importance also made our nerves shoot up, we were more on edge. Our nerves were not helped by the events of our third day.
Most of the third day was a normal one, the usual shooting the shit, talking, complaining, gambling. Around 17:00 the first artillery rang out, it was a quick crack. Instinctively our heads ducked into the trench. A few more rang out. Realizing it was not aimed at us, Bruno slowly peeked his head over the trench.
A couple seconds later there was silence, it was deafening, I went next to Bruno to check it out. The four or so shells landed right behind the First trench, the smoke slowly dissipating in the air. A couple more seconds went by, nothing, not even any gunshots in the distance, then suddenly it happened.
Almost fifteen shells landed at once, this time much closer to the trench. It was almost simultaneous. Me and Bruno ducked our heads. This time, there would be no silence afterwards, for the next thirty or so minutes, constant artillery would rain down on the first line, all we could do was listen.
There are many things that are good about modern warfare, the doctors were better and more well trained, it was easier to survive if wounded. There were comforts that were provided to me and not my ancestors who fought a hundred or hundreds of years ago. The worst part, about modern warfare, was the feeling of helplessness.
I cannot describe with words, how I felt watching hundreds of shells land around that trench. I was in an artillery ditch, I could not see the explosions, but I felt them. Everytime one would land, the air would crack in a deafening sound, and the earth beneath men would shake a little.
I could do nothing, there was no fear, as I knew the barrage was not aimed for me, but all I felt was a sense that I could do nothing to stop it, I could not help those poor men stuck out there, All we could do was wait it out.
Eventually, the bombardment ended, though I cannot tell you how long it lasted, could have been ten minutes, could have been an hour, My mind was blank. After it ended, we all waited for an attack , but no attack ever came. The worst part was the aftermath. For hours afterward, into the night.
There would be people running up and down the communication trenches, carrying the wounded, the dead to the back lines. We were boxed up right next to one of these communication trenches, so We got first class seats to the carnage.
If the corpses before did not get to me, this did. I saw a man trying to grasp at his legs but the legs were gone, shredded at the knee. They were grabbing at air. He was not screaming in pain, he was gasping, and he was confused. This was only a ten second encounter as the man was rushed on a stretcher past me to the rear line. But I will never forget that man, The look of confusion on his face, his hands trying to feel something that was not there, how the scraps of skin dangled from the knee.
After that night every gunshot in the distance heeded many eyes towards the front, any artillery shells landing close by would have people looking to see if an attack would be coming after. No attack came. Those four days on edge in the reserve trench were only made worse by the next four days.
"Alright men, pack up, it's our turn now." Marco said as he holstered his revolver and slung his rifle over his shoulder. "We will take up positions of able company on the front line". Bruno quickly got up and started getting ready, this was just before dawn, but we could see the edge of the sky start to slowly turn the yellowish orange of a sunrise. "Finally, I've been getting tired of the waiting," Bruno said as he slung his pack over his shoulder, which was followed by his rifle.
"Even I have to admit, all this waiting has been wanting me to just get it over with," Carlo said with a sadder tone. We all packed up and followed Marco throughout the trenches, we got to an intersection, in the intersection lay two signs, forced crudely into the earth.
One sign, pointed to the reserve lines, on it said CALLING STREET, the other sign, pointed to the firing line, said DEADS MAN ALLEY. I sighed, the people here really have a thing for theatrics, this was no place for it.
We all hurriedly followed the Sergeant with our heads hung low. About forty more meters and we arrived on the firing line, it was like a different world than the two other lines. With how much artillery hits, it was much more of a mess than the two lines before it.
The slits were deep into the earth, and the artillery shelters were dug deeper into the ground. About every hundred feet or so there would be a machine gun squad lined up in a parapet, guns trained on dead man's land.
The people we relieved, they looked like different beasts. They had the same looks of the men back at camp, their eyes glazed over, they were tired, many of them had suffered greatly in the barrage the day before, which hit this section rather hard. We took over a portion of the line held by another squad, and awaited with bated breaths what the next four days would hold.