23 November 2012
"To the right!"
I roll to the left and fall into the trench, the ground shaking me into the muddy bogs at the bottom. I get up, wearily, my gun hand reaching for the trigger. I shoot. A man falls, I don't know his name, I don't know his face, but I know he has a family at home who bay for my blood.
"Jones..."
I turn. Another man, in England's hands, lies clutching his chest.
"Harper!"
I run to him, and fall to my knees. The impact sends grotty water into Harper's face as I tear at his uniform. He groans.
"Hold on, Harper."
I fumble for a gauze in my med pack. I find one, tear off the plastic and push it on the gun wound. Harper cries out.
"Shh! Do you want to get shot again?!"
Harper clamps his mouth shut but I can see him scream behind his lips. Another bomb blows to the left of the trench and I throw myself over Harper.
Thrown • Opuss № I