The Broken Poppy Read online

CHAPTER FOUR

  Ypres, Belgium, 1914.

  20th October 1914.

  Day Fifty Four,

  Being a Private meant that you did not get to hear the top military secrets and on goings of the war, but somehow Roger did, even though he was just a Corporal. The thing about Roger, among his many faults in my opinion, is that he is not only a poor leader, but he is also hopeless at not sharing information with his brother and cousin. The other day I overheard his conversation and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

  “He told me that we need the town of Ypres, we cannot afford to lose it. Apparently we want it to secure the English Channel ports and therefore our supply lines as without it we would be completely cut off” Roger told his brother Paul Wilson.

  “I doubt the Germans will give it up easily though” Paul replied.

  “No they won’t, I think this will be a race to the sea” Roger finished.

  I quickly went on my way before they could see me and I couldn’t help but think at what I had overheard. I am sure getting the town of Ypres by the sounds of it would be a key obstacle in deciding the fate for the rest of the war. Though I am only a Private and I could easily be wrong. I know we are the reserve army for this battle and I hope that we don’t have to do too much work when we leave the trenches tomorrow, seeing as we will be the last ones to leave. The shells firing from the Germans have been going all week, hitting the edges of the trenches and I personally don’t know how much longer they’ll last. I’ve heard tales that a number of men have been killed already, not that the Captains or Corporals have said anything though. I can see why they haven’t of course, you don’t want to create doubt among an army hours before a battle.

  It is about eight o’clock in the evening and I am trying to get some sleep but that is near impossible. I have barely slept a wink since we left England. We were not under the safety net of our skies anymore and some men have not only paid the price with their lives, but others have been wounded horribly. Most of the wounded men come back extremely disfigured, many with limbs missing and some have had the skin of their faces scorched. It is nothing short of horrific.

  I managed to sleep for five hours with no idea how. Between the sounds of the men digging the trenches deeper for last minute protection and the constant German shells that were hitting our walls, it was a noisy night. Nevertheless it was welcomed greatly and it has given me the energy that I need for the attack today. Today is the 20th October 1914 and we will begin the attack in about half an hour’s time.

  When you’re at war, before you know it time flies past you and half an hour is gone almost as quick as the blink of an eye. The more experienced soldiers left the trenches first and about ten other platoons soon followed, heading out to battle in the early hours of the morning.

  Our platoon had gathered and I stood next to Rob, Matthew, Tim and Johnnie as well as Paul and Albert. Roger came over trying to act in a leader like way but he still wanted to get under my skin – nothing had changed. When Roger first came over, Matthew, Rob and I did not say anything to him, but Tim although knowing the background story of our families put a stop to the silent bickering.

  “Corporal” Tim said with a salute.

  “Private. Your name is?” Roger asked.

  “Timothy Perkins Sir” Tim replied.

  “Well Timothy, I just wanted to wish you luck. Be careful out there, this is a tricky one” Roger said.

  “Aren’t all battles ‘tricky’ Roger?” I said with a frown forming.

  “Yes.” Roger replied simply and to our great surprise, not adding a comment that would irritate us. Maybe war was changing him – though then again, that’s hard to believe.

  Hours passed and it was about midday when we got news. We were told to get into formation and Roger informed us that the reserve was needed and to go in from the West side of the town and attack.

  “Oh and Thomas, don’t lag behind as you like to do - I don’t fancy being killed” Roger said, knowing that it would just wind me up.

  “But you want me to be killed, is that it Roger?” I replied, close to shouting.

  “Stop being ridiculous for once in your life and just follow orders” he remarked, blurting out any insult he could.

  I was so ready to hit him but Johnnie pulled my arm back. I listened to Johnnie and ignored Roger, while we got into our positions. Once the whistle was blown, we advanced. Our first battle. I was nervous and I won’t deny that. The man in charge of our platoon Lieutenant Evans ordered us to keep walking forwards, steadily and quietly. We could not make a sound. This did not last long though of course and we were no more than five feet away from the trenches on open land when the sounds of bullets, flying through the air like a ghost appeared. Instantly, men cried out in pain and fell to the floor like flies. After about ten minutes of battle we had probably advanced no more than forty feet and nearly half of our platoon had been hit and most likely killed. It was sickening. About thirty minutes later, after I had narrowly missed many bullets the artillery fire subsided. It almost became silent out here on no man’s land, but not quite.

  About a meter in front of me I noticed that Rob, Matthew, Johnnie and Tim were all still intact, although Johnnie appeared to have lost his helmet in the fire. Though I doubt he complained. After all you would rather lose a helmet, than a head. When the artillery fire subsided, the Germans sprang from everywhere and attacked. Our platoon tried to hold strong but we were practically slaughtered. Lieutenant Evans ordered us to keep moving forward and we were to assist the men who were under deadly attack only twenty feet ahead of us. Ducking and dodging the attack we rushed swiftly into the next trench and jumped down into the muddy hole. The previous occupants of the trench had just been driven out and it was our job to hold this specific part of the trench from the enemy. I had already experienced the horrors of war in the past half hour, but as I jumped into the trench I landed on what I believed was a rock and I lost my footing, falling over. It was only when I never hit the rocky ground that I realised exactly what I had landed on. Bodies. Bodies of the dead who were piled up on top of each other like a pack of playing cards. Before I had a chance to panic emotionally, Rob grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

  “You okay Thomas?” Rob asked.

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like I just fell on a pile of dead men” I replied sarcastically in the acceptance that I was okay.

  “Well this is war, what did you expect? Cushions?” Rob replied.

  I don’t know how, but Rob always manages to make a joke that if said at any other time it would have been considered insensitive. When however you are in this state of mind, in a state of war, you do not have the emotional strength to hold back any potentially wrong emotions, so I simply laughed. One of the men was given the job of the lookout and the rest of us kept under cover, following the orders of Lieutenant Evans.

  I quickly looked around at our platoon to see who was still standing and considering we had started of with about fifty men, less than half remained. Though thankfully, Rob, Matthew, Johnnie, Tim and Lieutenant Evans were still with us. Even Roger, Paul and Albert seemed to have survived unscathed. None of them appeared to even have a scratch, although Albert’s face was now covered in a mixture of blood, dust and dirt. He clearly had a close call with death.

  The remaining men congregated around Lieutenant Evans and many of the men had been wounded but they could still at least use a rifle. Lieutenant Evans was walking up and down the firing line issuing orders on what we were to do next, in the next stage of battle.

  Moments later, the Germans fired back at us once more and we were driven from the trench. The wounded were left stranded behind and there was nothing we could do to help them. If we tried to bring them with us it would slow down the entire mission and many lives would be lost as a consequence. It sounds harsh, but what is the life of one man compared to the lives of ten? At least that is the view point considered by many men, when you are at war.

  Our battl
e anyway must have been going on for about five hours and from what I was able to observe, little progress had been made. We had gained a trench and then we lost it, as quickly as the snap of a finger. Lieutenant Evans ordered that we had to retake the trench the Germans had just driven us from and he directed Roger to choose about twenty three men for the mission. We had already lost Sergeant Lerwick and Corporal Cabrera earlier in the attack. They were good men and good soldiers, they would be missed. Following his orders he chose the twenty three men for this mission. For some unknown reason Roger not only picked his brother and cousin but also myself, Rob, Matthew, Tim and Johnnie – I really wanted to know what he was up too.

  Roger was clearly trying to impress Lieutenant Evans and act with leadership, but as I expected he was not a great leader. When he started leading the way, he seemed to forget about the rest of the men who were waiting for his orders, even his own brother and cousin. Time was deadly; we had to make the attack at a specific moment, or the trench would be lost to us. Everyone was getting tired, our pace slowed down and we were more prone to making mistakes – even more so with Roger as the leader. The Germans though seemed to have a never ending burst of energy and they were relentless in their mission to kill. Men continued to drop like flies around me; the sound of shells, bullets and the dying cries of men filled the air . You felt as if you were having a nightmare and you were never going to wake up. The ground had been blown to pieces thanks to the shells and a dense dust was created. This mixed with the existing fog made it near impossible to see more than three feet ahead of you. I felt like I was walking into the land of doom, where death was almost certain. Men were blown to pieces right in front of me and several times I ducked out of the way of flying limbs, but we did not give in. We pushed forward and about twenty minutes or so later we reached the trench again.

  When the Germans were pulling us down, and with the lack of direction from Roger, everyone seemed to fight for themselves in an unorderly manner. It was a panic and with Roger dashing ahead, swiftly followed by Paul he did not realise that his own cousin had been hit and killed by a falling shell. I had lost sight of my new friends and my brothers in the panic – I could only see Albert. He though was too far ahead of me and there was no way I could do what soldiers were meant to do – protect each other’s backs. He died instantly and I had to be the one to inform Roger.

  After I told him what had happened he finally realised, that if it hadn’t been for his poor leadership and communication with the group, his cousin would still be alive. I think he was suffering in grief because he practically begged me to agree to put the past behind us and work together as a unit – so that no more lives would be wasted. I did agree with him because Albert’s death affected me more than I thought it would. Even though I despised him growing up, he was too young to die and the death could easily have been avoided. Apart from this, the death could easily have belonged to either myself, my brother’s or my friends. We had to leave the past alone at least until the war was over – otherwise we would all end up dead. As hard as it would be, we had to try.

  We had been able to hold the trench for a couple of hours or so, but this by no means meant rest. The Germans continued to attack and it seemed if we could not be driven out of the trench by man power, we would almost certainly be blown out of it. The walls of the trenches were slowly crumbling around us and seven more men left the war. I began to fear that our numbers were now so reduced that if attacked by the Germans in combat we would not hold the trench. Later we also found out that Lieutenant Evans had also been killed. Only fourteen men in our platoon had survived the attack and they were all Privates. Privates could not take command, unless of course there was no higher ranked man left alive. This meant that Roger was now solely in charge, and if anything it would make us work together, as much as we did not want to.

  An hour passed and we were eventually told to retire and join with another platoon that was nearby. I was overcome with relief. Hopefully, I had survived day one of battle, along with Rob, Matthew and my two friends. We were all safe. After the instructions were given, we retired along the communication trench and we began making our way back over the open field to our new position.

  Yours,

  Private Thomas Millward.