Attone for our sins

War. what hell. why is it so cold? why so much blood,? why is there so much blood? my brothers in arms limbs lay strewn over this snow covered battlefield. The snow is no longer white, instead it runs red with my units blood. i sit waiting for the next wave of enemies with one eye on my scope and the other clutching my crucifix praying that today isn't the day i meet my maker. This war. what are we actually fighting for? its already taken so much. How many more have to die?

Chapter 1 Under Fire

Belgium 1944 flying over the Algerian mountains

Marcus is a sniper serving his country against the Nazis. He and his unit are currently waiting for their drop point and stand in line hooked up and waiting for that red light to turn green.

Marcus stares out into the cold empty sky as the doors slides open. Their mission is to take a key point. A large bridge that bridges the gap between two small villages which is vital for enemy supplies. They have two options either take the bridge and fortify it and await reinforcements or destroy it but the commanding officer has stressed the latter being a last resort because destroying it would hinder allied reinforcements.

Marcus stands at the door and looks down. He can see the ground passing by below the dense cloud. Boy! “That’s a long way down” he thinks to himself as he continues to watch the ground pass by beneath him.

Go! Go! Go! is the next sound he hears as the light turns to green. He is the first out of the plane. He free falls for what seems to be an eternity. The cold wind is bracing and chafes his face. Marcus looks up to the heavens and can see his unit free falling above him. Suddenly a body whizzes past him. Marcus looks down his eyes locked on to his falling comrade thinking “open goddamn it. Open your chute for the love of god.” Marcus takes action as he realises his comrade is in distress and it’s unlikely that he is going to open his chute voluntarily.

He acts without thinking of his own self-preservation and in what can only be described as a selfless act or plain stupidity forces his body into a steep dive. He can hear his comrades shouting from above shouting no! Marcus no!

Marcus turns his head to face his comrades above smiles then continues his dive.

He picks up speed the wind buffets his face, his cheeks flap as the punishing wind rags them. He can see his comrade just below him. He’s within arm’s reach in seconds. He reaches out and grabs his jacket and pulls himself towards his comrade. Jack! Jack are you alright?” he asks as he fumbles for his release. Jack has passed out and isn’t answering. Marcus has no choice it’s do or die and pulls his release for him. The chute opens pulling them both skywards at a rate of knots. Marcus looks to the heavens and sees the rest of the units chutes opening. Six green chutes don the morning sky and descend to the ground in formation.

Marcus releases his grip on jack and pulls on his own release. His chute opens dragging him upwards sharply. He can see snow-capped mountains beneath him. He picks an area on the ground and steers his chute towards it and few moments later he touches down with a thud. Marcus cuts away his chute and allows the wind to carry it off into the distance and then goes in search of his teammates.

The first thing he notices is the quiet. All he can hear is the odd bird chirping and the wind rustling through nearby trees. The second thing he notices is the cold. Well not so much notice more like feel as the cold starts to take its toll. Marcus has seen and felt cold days before but nothing like this. It’s got to be minus five at least. The sweat from his brow has dripped onto his eyelashes and freezes instantaneous forming ice crystals on his eye lashes.

He breaths in the cold air; it freezes his lungs. It feels like when you eat ice cream really fast and leaves you gasping for air.

Marcus readies his 2.2 calibre rifle and looks to the horizon through his scope. In the distance he can see one of his comrades just landing in some dense woods. He moves his scope to his right. He can see a chute flapping in the wind and a still body beside it. “That must be jack” he thinks to himself. He shoulders his gun and makes haste towards his friend.

The wind is strong and whips the powdery snow into the air. He shields his eyes watching as the wind builds kicking up more flurries of snow but he knows he has to press on and continues to wade through the deep snow for a further five minutes until he happens upon jack. He isn’t moving. Marcus rushes to his aid and cuts his chute free. He listens for signs of life and presses his ear to his chest. A faint heartbeat emanates from his chest. “Thank god for that” he says taking a huge sigh of relief.  

Marcus gently slaps his cheeks either side saying jack! “Wake the fuck up man; you had me worried there buddy.” Jack doesn’t respond so he slaps him harder so hard in fact he makes his lip bleed. Jacks eyes snap open. What! “The fuck man?” he says putting his hand to his lip.     

“You’re welcome jack, think nothing of it” Marcus replies sarcastically.

“How did I get here?” jack asks.

Marcus laughs. Really! You honestly don’t remember?”

No! “The last thing I can remember is standing at the doors of the plane and then waking up to your ugly mug” he jokes.

Ugly! Me? Have you looked in the fucking mirror lately soppy bollocks? I’ll have you know back home women swoon over these gorgeous looks” He replies defensively.

Swoon? Yeah right! Of course they do and as for soppy bollocks there’s nothing soppy about mine mate just ask your mum.” jack jokes in reply. 

Jack is twenty two. He stands a mere 5ft 4 and is thinly built. He’s what you would call an army brat. His mother and father both served in the military so I suppose it was inevitable that he would serve his country too.

Marcus and jack have been friends for a while and helped each other while they were doing there training. You see both have strengths and weaknesses; for instance Marcus is eagle eyed with a rifle and could quite easily knock the wings of a fly in mid-flight while jack however is more the thinking man and is good at reading maps and accessing dire situations so they used each other’s strengths and weaknesses to get them through training.

Marcus picks jacks Thomson machine gun up in his hand and checks for damage as jack landed pretty hard.

“Seems fine to me buddy” he says as he gives it the once over.  

What! “Did you bloody expect Marcus? He replies snatching the gun from his hand.

Suddenly jacks eyes widen.

“What’s Wrong jack?” Marcus asks seeing the fear set in his eyes.

“Over there in the tree line; did you see him?” he replies clutching his Thompson.

Marcus instantly takes his rifle from his shoulder and places the scope to his eye and scans the horizon. “I can’t see a fucking thing. Jack! What did you see?” he asks.

“Nazi bastard dressed head to toe in white; he was running from tree to tree using them as cover the sly bastard” jack replies as he makes himself acquainted with the powdery snow.

Bang! A sudden flash of light catches Marcus’s attention. He feels something hit his right cheek followed by a rush of wind that passes by his right ear. Fucking hell! “Jack did you feel that? he nearly had my ear off then, did you feel that bullet pass us?” 

Jack doesn’t respond. He nudges his body but still no movement. Marcus rolls him over onto his back and gasps in horror when he sees an entry and exit point caused by the enemy snipers bullet which has entered through his skull and exited through his left eye forcing his eye from its socket which now dangles on a fleshy membrane rope at the side of his lifeless body.

Marcus starts to panic. “Stay with me jack” he says as he frantically pumps his chest however Deep down he knows jack is dead but he has to try and revive him otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself knowing he hadn’t tried. Tears stream down both cheeks forming icy slides. He starts to cry full blown crocodile tears as he realises that jack is no more. Bang! Fear sets in as another bullet whizzes past burying itself in the powdery snow to his right. “He has nearly got my range” he thinks as his eyes lower to jacks body. The snow around jack is a crimson red and proceeds outwards as the blood pumps from his wounds. Suddenly Marcus has a flash back and it takes him back to the first day when he went hunting with his father.

Chapter 2 Hunting

December 22nd 1941.  Marcus riley is his name. All his young life he has had a fascination with guns. Today is his 18th birthday and finally he gets to actually shoot one because his dad is taking him out hunting for the first time. Marcus holds the 2.2 calibre rifle in his hand and presses the stock up against his shoulder and with the stock comfortably placed he then places his right eye about an inch away from the scopes sight and trains his eye on a wood pigeon that is perched in a tree at the bottom of the garden. He takes aim. His heart is beating rapidly as he gently squeezes the trigger. Bang! All he sees is a mist of red and a few feathers that drift in the morning breeze. It happens so fast. From the moment he pulled that trigger to the bullet leaving the barrel to the piff of red mist was only a split second. Footsteps bound up the stairs. What! “Have I told you son about firing the gun in the house?” his father bellows in disappointment.

Marcus looks to the floor hanging his head in shame and replies “sorry dad.”

Sorry! Sorry doesn’t cut it son; what if you were to harm some passer-by? Then what eh?”

Jesus! “Dad calm down I said sorry; what more do you want from me?” he replies.

Marcus’s dad is a gentle giant standing a good six foot two. He goes by the name of harry Carrie. You’re probably wondering why he has been branded with that name? Well I will tell you why. It happened one summers evening. Harry was out shooting wood pigeon when he heard screams coming from a nearby river. At first he thought he was hearing things because he had just fired his gun. He stands in the still of the evening training his ears to the sound of his surroundings. Help! “me” a voice screams in the near distance. Harry being an inquisitive fellow wastes no time and heads towards the cries for help and shortly arrives at the river bank. Please! ”help me the voice cries out once more but this time the voice sounds muffled. Harry is about to find out why. Harry looks across the river to see a young boy around the age of seven clinging to a half-submerged tree. He looks cold and scared so much so that Harry can hear the boy’s teeth chattering from the chilling cold water that has him surrounded.

Harry wastes no time. He doesn’t give it a second thought. He throws his gun down on the river bank and jumps into the freezing cold water. Heroic right? Wrong because harry can’t swim and has now put his own life and that of the boy at risk. You see sometimes instinct takes over common sense thus resulting in what we call heroics although I would say this is more stupidity than heroism. Harry wades through the icy water. The water is level with his neck line then suddenly he finds himself submerged as the water suddenly deepens. Harry kicks desperately trying to propel himself to the surface. The current is strong. A strong undertow pulls at his legs forcing him under once again. He kicks for all he is worth and finally resurfaces next to the boy who is still clinging on for day of life. The boy asks if he is here to save him, harry sighs and replies “sorry son; I guess we are in the same boat now. anyway how did you end up in the water son?”

The boy looks deep into Harry’s eyes and replies, ”I was fishing on the far bank and my line snagged on this old tree. I tried to free the line but as I pulled the line snapped and I lost my balance and fell in to the river. I did try to swim to the bank but the waters current wouldn’t let me and pulled me down river and I ended up here. “Why can’t you save me mister?” he asks.

“I was foolish boy as I cannot swim but at the same time I couldn’t let you languish alone, I had to try to save you as I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I were to let you die so here I am and unfortunately I am at a loss what to do next.”

The young boy has been in the water for some time now and his hands are numb from the icy water. Suddenly the boy loses his grip and is dragged away at speed by the waters current.

Harry sees the boys distress and makes a desperate leap of faith and grabs hold of his jacket but in all the commotion harry loses his grip on the tree too and is pulled down the river along with the boy that he has got tightly gripped in his hand. The boy submerges; harry fights to keep him afloat. Harry goes beneath the water but his hand stays raised above the water as he frantically tries to keep the boy afloat. A couple out walking their dog see their predicament and break a large branch of a nearby tree and thrust it into the water. The young boy frail and near death grabs hold and is pulled to safety. Harry is nowhere to be seen. The boy whispers to his saviours “what about the man?”  The man looks into the water and can see Harry’s  hair nesting near the surface. He dives in and pulls him to the bank. Luckily for harry this man is a strong swimmer. To cut a long story short they both live to tell the tale but ever since day harry has been branded with the name harry Carrie because he dived into the water knowing he could die as he couldn’t swim and that’s how he got his name. Let’s re-join the story where I left off.

Harry sighs and replies “I want to be able to trust you. Give me your word you will never use the rifle in the house again and that will be the end of it ok?”

Marcus shrugs his shoulders. Fine! “You have my word” he replies bringing his eyes to his fathers to show his sincerity.

“I believe you son.” “Marcus you are no longer a child. Today you are officially recognised as man and with this status come’s great responsibility and as you give me your word today it becomes a gentleman’s code of honour one which you must never break because what we say son defines us. Do you understand what I am trying to say to you son?”

Dad! “Please leave it now. I do understand your teachings and I promise my word will stay intact. Is that satisfactory to you?” he retorts.

Harry shrugs then replies, Ok! “Son I believe you as the eyes do not lie and on this day I have gazed into the windows of your soul and that’s good enough for me. Now grab your rifle and coat because we have some hunting to do; Happy birthday son.”

Marcus doesn’t need to be asked twice for this is the day that he has been longing for. Finally a real hunt. Target for today is white tailed deer.

Harry and Marcus load the truck with supplies. Harry is an over cautious fellow and always expects the worse so I have no doubt that he will be taking a lot more than he actually needs but I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry.

1 hour later they arrive at the clearing to the woods. Ahead lays a fast emerald forest. It`s cold  and when I say cold I mean bloody freezing. A cold wind blows from the north cutting to the bone, snow blankets the floor and snaps crisp under foot as they walk through the woods with their 2.2 calibre hunting rifle slung over their shoulders.

In addition both carry a survival knife with a sharp serrated edged blade ideal for skinning deer, rabbits or anything else for that matter that has a pelt.

Marcus finds an ideal spot and lays down in the cold snow. Gently he slides his rifle of his shoulder and takes aim at young female deer who sits grazing about 100 feet ahead of him.

Marcus knows his stuff and has listened well to his father’s teachings and has carefully crept downwind so not to spook the deer. The deer is oblivious to his presence the first inkling the deer will have is when that bolt snaps shut and the gun expels its deadly cargo.

He sits watching looking through his 4x 40 sights waiting for that perfect clean kill shot as he has been taught to kill not wound and only a head, lung or heart shot would suffice because he doesn’t want the animal to suffer.

Harry lays down beside him and pats him on the shoulder saying, “now don’t rush, slow deep breaths. Gently tease the trigger and before you fire hold your breath. Feel the rhythm of your targets heartbeat imagine the deer’s heart beating alongside yours and slow yours to match that beat. Squeeze gently on that trigger son and don’t forget to compensate for the wind and recoil.”

Marcus  pays close attention to what he is being told then closes his eyes and empties his mind and imagines the deer’s heartbeat, he can feel the deer`s warm breath breathing on the back of his neck. His eyes snap open returning to his 4x40 as he assumes target acquisition, the deer burrows through the snow looking for some tasty grass to eat. Marcus is locked and loaded and has already plotted the trajectory of his bullet and has decided on a head shot. All he is waiting for now is for her to lift her head.

Suddenly! A bird caws startling the deer and she lifts her head. She sniffs the air, her ears prick up as she listens for danger. Marcus can see her breath flowing out her nostrils as she sniffs for danger. He takes aim just above the temple then gently squeezes the trigger. Bang! He watches as her eyes widen followed by a mist of red as the bullet finds its mark. The bullets impact knocks her clean of her feet and has exited through the left side of her jaw. 

She bucks for a few seconds as her life slowly extinguishes then nothing. It`s a clean kill he`s happy that’s all he wanted. It is quick and relatively painless she doesn’t suffer.

“Good shot son! I’m proud of you it could have been cleaner but none the less a good shot. Next time hold your breath as you fire that way you won`t shake as much and try to be one with your prey.”

Marcus isn’t listening and is already racing over to claim his prize. “Come on then! don’t dally we have to get her skinned while she`s still warm” he says as he draws level with his prize.

They both stand staring at their kill. The snow around the deer turns to a crimson red as her steaming blood melts into the snow creating a crimson circle around the deer which stretches out a foot either side growing bigger by the second as the deer bleeds out.

“Come on then son, don’t just stand there; do it like I have shown you. If you don’t hurry the skin will start to harden making it impossible to skin her in one complete piece” harry says encouraging his son.

Marcus kneels beside the deer and takes out his knife. He  places the point just under her chin then with one swift motion pulls vertically across her throat. He watches teary eyed as blood slowly pumps from the open wound. If her heart was still beating it would have been gushing out by now but with no motor to power her the blood just trickles at a steady pace.

Harry places his flask under the flow filling his flask a quarter full then says, “Come on then son it’s your first clean kill let`s celebrate with one drink to swallow her soul what do you say son?”

Err! “no thanks dad, I’ll stick with my water but don’t mind me though you knock yourself out.”

Harry places the flask to his lips and tips his flask. Blood trickles down his chin. Mmm! Salty are you sure you won`t try some?” He asks

“Yes “Dad I am sure! That was so gross wait until I tell mum she will never kiss you again” he laughs.

Marcus continues skinning the deer moving his blade in quick intricate movements as he pulls the skin back.

Easy! Son, be careful, don’t  cut too deep or you will take too much fat; just try and keep the blade just under the surface and tease it. He says offering his wisdom.

Dad! “Please, I know what I’m doing just stand over there a minute while I finish off. Please dad you are putting me off and making me cut to deep.”

“You know what they say don’t you son?”

“No Dad! But I’m sure you’re going to tell me” he snidely replies.

“A poor workman always blames his tools.” Harry continues to say.

Well! That’s funny because I’m blaming you dad, now stand over there or just turn around please and let me get on.”

Harry sighs and replies, Fine! I’m turning around just let me know when you have finished ok?”

Marcus finishes off the deer by pulling the pelt over its legs and throws it on the back of the truck.

Ok! “You can turn around now dad, I have finished. He states.

Err! Not quite son; she needs gutting and cleaning. I think your mum would have a heart attack if we take her home like this.

Marcus sighs then pushes his blade into her gut and proceeds to slice the entire length of her stomach. Red mingles with yellow as the knife cuts through her thick belly fat. Finally her intestines drop onto the floor sizzling as cold meets warm as they hit the cold snow.

Dad! “I’ve finished, could you help me lift her on to the back of the truck please?”

Ok! “Son. You take the front I’ve got the rear. 1,2 3, lift” He says putting his back into it.

They lift the carcass carefully onto the back as not to damage the meat then close the back up.

“Come on then kid, time to go. Did you safety your gun lad?”

Yes! “Dad the safety is on and the chamber emptied, I’m not stupid you know I do actually listen to you.”

Hmmm! “that’s debatable. I think you have what they call selective hearing and you hear what you want to hear” he jokes.

That was the first time he had fired his gun with his father and he hoped it wouldn’t be his last.

Marcus snaps back to reality as another bullet whizzes by. Right! “you bastard. This one’s for you jack,” he says as he composes himself. Marcus digs deep within. Suddenly fear is replaced by courage. He readies his rifle and takes aim using jacks head as a make shift rest.

He looks through his scope looking for that elusive flash which would give away the enemies position. Marcus slowly moves his scope left to right scanning the horizon. Bang! That was the sound he’s been waiting for. He quickly turns to where he thinks the sound came from and takes aim. Marcus lies patiently in the bloodied snow. Bang! This time he hears and he sees the flash of light from the enemy’s muzzle. He takes aim watching for movement. You see the muzzle flash wasn’t enough to exactly pin point his position because every time the enemy sniper fires he relocates. Marcus bides his time by saying the lord’s prayer out aloud.

Suddenly there is movement in the tree line as the sniper tries to relocate himself. Marcus takes aim. He gently teases the trigger aiming just in front of the sniper. He takes a deep breath in and holds it thinking “this one’s for you buddy.” Bang! He drops the hammer. The gun bucks for a split second. He quickly steadies the rifle keeping one eye looking through the scope just in time to see a small mist of red fountain into the air as the enemy sniper goes down. This is the first time he has killed a man and he is shocked that he does not feel any remorse. “After all it was him or me” he says to himself.

Marcus shoulders his weapon and removes jacks dog tag and places it in his pocket. He pry’s the Thomson from his hand and proceeds towards the downed enemy sniper. Marcuse’s boots soles are covered in jacks blood and as he trudges through the snow he leaves a trail of bloody footprints behind him.

Marcus finally reaches the downed sniper. He gasps as he sees the sniper is still alive thinking “what do I do now?” It’s easy to kill from a distance but up close and personal like this is more personal and I don’t know if I have the nerve to kill in cold blood” he thinks as he stares at his enemy.

He moves closer. The sniper is leant against a tree and is bleeding profusely from his right leg; he stares back at Marcus wincing every few seconds through gritted teeth has the pain from his wound grips him tighter.

Marcus seats himself adjacent to him against a nearby tree stump and readies the Thomson.

“Why did you kill my friend?” he asks.

The sniper looks on into the distance and doesn’t reply; this infuriates Marcus so he flips the Thomson in his hand and hits the sniper with great force in the side of his jaw with the butt of his gun. The snipers lip explodes in a fountain of red into the air on impact.

Marcus repeats the question. He still doesn’t answer although this time he spits a mouthful of blood towards Marcus’s feet then laughs hysterically however his laugh is short lived as his pain heightens.

“Think that’s funny do you? You Nazi bastard” he says staring into the pit of the enemy’s soul.

“Funny yar funny” the sniper replies spitting another mouth full of blood in Marcus’s direction.

“Find this funny you fucker” he says as he bashes him once again with the Thomson’s butt

Marcus inspects his handy work. The first blow had broken his jaw and the second had broken his nose judging by its angle.

“Still think your funny?” Marcus asks.

“Yar funny man” he replies as he tries to laugh through gritted teeth.       

Marcus has heard enough he now has a choice he can either kill him in cold blood or leave him to die from his injuries. He jumps to his feet and aims the Thomson at the snipers head he can feel himself perspiring as he wrestles with his cognisance. His hands start to shake. He can’t bring himself to kill in cold blood and says “sorry jack I can’t do it.”

He lowers his Thompson and says “fuck you ya nazi prick; you can die here all alone and keep my friend company.”

Marcus turns to walk away. The sniper slowly unclips his side arm and removes it slyly from its holster and with a shaking hand takes aim. Suddenly a barrage of shots echo through the air breaking the still silence. Marcus spins around to see the sniper pitted in machine gun fire  “Why didn’t you finish the nazi prick?” a voice says as a figure appears from behind a nearby tree.

“Whose there?” he shouts in reply.

“It’s me corporal Conner’s and I have been watching you for the last ten minutes. Why didn’t you finish him you pussy?” he says teasing him.

Marcus looks him right in the eye and replies, “because I’m no cold blooded killer like yourself.”

“Ha, ha, ha that sentiment is going to get you killed Marcus. You do realise you were this close to death?” he replies stretching his fingers out simulating how close. 

Yeah! “Whatever Conner’s. next you’ll be telling me you only shot him because he was about to shoot me?”

“As a matter of fact I was you pussy, although I would have killed him regardless. Not because I wanted to more like it needed to be done. Get this into that your thick scull Marcus out here its them or us. Do you really think they would show the compassion you were about to show that sniper? I will answer that for you and the answer is no. now get with the programme because next time I might not be there to save your ass and by the  way you’re welcome” he replies sarcastically.

Corporal Conner’s is what I’d call the class room bully a beefy sort of chap with more brawn than brains he too was in training with Marcus and jack infact the whole unit trained together. Conner’s used to wait until the other soldiers belt buckles were polished to a high standard and then he would wait until they slept soundly in their bunks and swap them with his own.

The next day the unit would be inspected and some poor sole would get reprimanded for his kit not being up to standard. It’s not surprising why he has turned out the way he has though because he comes from a broken home. His dad used to drink profusely and knock him and his old lady about so I suppose he has a lot of issues to work through. Maybe the army is the right place for him at least he gets to kill people. He can imagine the enemy as his father and take their life because he never had the courage to take his old man’s life even when he was beating his mother to a pulp. And he has the nerve to call Marcus a pussy.

Chapter 3 Reunited

Three hours later in the Algerian wilderness.

Corporal Conner’s is taking great pride in his kill and has took it upon himself to remember his moment of glory and has got Marcus taking snapshots in various poses with the German snipers corpse.

“You’re a sick bastard Conner’s. You do know that don’t you?” Marcus states.

Yeah! “And your point is?” he replies.

Nothing! “Conner’s. I’m just saying that’s all.” Marcus retorts.

Conner’s flexes his fingers then makes a fist and replies “well don’t! Marcus if you know what’s good for you keep your opinions to yourself. If I want you’re infinite wisdom I will ask. Got it?”

Marcus shrugs and proceeds to light a ciggy replying “fine consider me mute.”

The cold wind is bracing and Marcus has lost feeling in his fingers and toes. He cups his hands and makes an opening and proceeds to blow warm air into the opening hoping he will regain some feelings to his fingers. After all what good is a sniper rifle if you’re not capable of firing it right?”

He continues to blow for a few more minutes and slowly the feelings return to his fingers.

Suddenly he hears bushes rustling behind him. Marcus freezes to the spot his heart starts to beat faster than it has ever beaten before. He tries to turn his head but it just won’t move and to make matters worse the feelings in his fingers have not returned properly and there is no way that he could fire his weapon. The rustling loudens. The scrunching of snow underfoot follows. He starts to shake; sweat pours from his forehead and instantly freezes in place.

“I need to turn around but I can’t. Come on Marcus where’s that fighting spirit? Dig deep son” he thinks to himself. The footsteps are almost upon him the crunching of snow underfoot is drowning his senses in a deafening drone. He starts to turn to face whatever is behind him. Suddenly he feels a splash of something on his face. Marcus throws caution to the wind and his instincts take over just in time to see Conner’s sneak up behind another German sniper. Conner’s crouches low and draws his knife and stealthily  creeps up behind him and with his left arm grabs the soldier around the neck then quickly follows up with his right which is holding his knife and says “make one move and I will slice your throat.” He proceeds to press the tip of the blade into his throat which enforces his threat.

The sniper drops his knife and it sticks in the ground point first.

Marcus! “”pick it up” Conner’s demands.

No! “and why? I have my own knife” he replies looking a little perplexed.

Conner’s grunts in a disapproving manner replying “I said pick the fucking knife up Marcus! Or I will slice this Nazi bastard open right in front of you. He begins to slide the blade across the germans throat until a trickle of blood runs down his neck.

Ok! Ok! “Connors you have made your point! Fine! I’m picking it up; now what?” he replies

A mischievous grin forms across his face. “Now stab him or I end him” he replies.

Marcus glances down at the knife and replies “you’re fucking crazy Conner’s. I’m not going to stab him and kill him cold blood.”

Conner’s laughs hysterically. This bastard here wouldn’t have shown you any mercy would you?” he says shaking the sniper for an answer.

Marcus can see that the sniper is scared and tries to reassure him that he is going to be fine saying, “Everything’s going to be fine my friend. We are not monsters. Conner’s is just trying to scare you. Isn’t that right Conner’s?” he says looking to him.

Conner’s laughs again and replies yeah! “that’s right. I am just trying to scare you. Yeah right!

Marcus watches in horror as Conner’s eyes widen like some crazed lunatic. No Connors! he screams as he makes a bid for his knife but his efforts are in vein as Conner’s slides the knife over his throat. A fountain of blood follows which sprays out like a high pressure hose in Marcuse’s direction. Conner’s is not content with just cutting his throat and proceeds to saw vigorously in a side to side motion. Marcus can hear the sickening gurgles as the soldier chokes on his own blood. He watches shaking with anger as urine spills out the bottom of his trousers and proceeds to trickle down his boots; he sees the light in his eyes dim until no reflection shows then watches as if in slow motion as his headless body drops to the floor.

Marcus rolls his eyes to face Conner’s. His jaw drops as Conner’s stands victorious holding the Germans head by his hair. He will never forget the look on the Germans face as Conner’s took his life and the look that is permanently engraved on his face as Conner’s launches his head through the air as if kicking a field goal.

What! “The fuck happened here?” a voice cries out from behind them. It’s the rest of their unit and the bellowing voice belongs to their commanding officer Samuel Tate.

Well! “I am waiting for an explanation. What’s the matter soldier? Cat got your tongues?” He asks.

Marcus looks to Conner’s and begins to open his mouth to speak but Conner’s gets in their first saying,” it was Marcus sir. He just lost it. I tried to stop him but I couldn’t sir.”

“Is this right riley?”  Samuel asks.       

Marcus jumps to his feet in his defence replying, sir! He’s lying. It was Conner’s sir! He slit the soldier’s throat then cut his head off. He’s a sick bastard sir, pardon my French sir.”

Samuel looks around then replies, “There’s one missing. Where is jack, riley?”

Tears form in the corners of Marcuse’s eyes. Sir! “There were two snipers and unfortunately jack died in a fire fight sir and his body is up on that ridge. Here sir I think you better have this” he says handing him jacks dog tag.

Listen up! this kind of barbaric behaviour will not stand under my command, am I making myself clear?” Samuel bellows.

Yes sir! Crystal clear sir! they all reply simultaneously.

Glad to hear it soldiers and anymore more of this brutality and I will shoot you myself.” Conner’s, Marcus! Get up onto that ridge and retrieve jacks body; he deserves a proper burial not to be left out in the open so the animals can rip him apart.”

Yes sir! Right away sir! They both reply stood covered in the Germans blood.

Riley and Conner’s head up to the ridge and retrieve jacks blood spattered body while the others get to work digging a make shift grave and by the time they return with his blood stained corpse the grave is dug. Conner’s and Marcus gently lower jacks body into the freezing pit. “Would anybody like to say anything before we cover him up?” Samuel asks.

Yes! “I would sir” Marcus says putting his hand in the air.

“Fucking knew you’d have something to say” Conner’s whispers.

Conner’s! shut the fuck up! “Get up on that ridge and provide over watch. Samuel snaps shooting Conner’s down.

But! But! Sir. He replies

“No buts. you should learn to keep your big mouth shut. now get your fucking arse up on that ridge and that’s an order soldier and another thing I know it was you who killed those germans and how do I know this  I hear you ask? Well that’s a simple one. Marcus is too much of a pussy. Sorry Riley no offence but you are.”

work in progress

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