March MGWAT

[Chris Foster]

Just to echo Gunboat.

Welcome to MGWAT, a really great start.

I look forward to seeing more of your work.

Regards

Chris

[Guest soren1916]

fabulous, Gongie!

[Gongie]

Thank you very much for the kind words.

A bit more background: The figure in the foreground is Pte. Harry Mullen VC (won at Passchendaele).

The two of them (with 6 other men waiting behind) crept up to the enemy parapet after hearing voices and decided to rush the post to secure identification. One of the sentries refused to surrender and my great uncle (Lt. McDougall) and Pte. Mullen emptied their revolvers into them.

This alerted the rest of the enemy, one of whom triggered a hand grenade/boobytrap near the parapet. The blast injured my uncle (a man of 6'4 and 230lbs) so badly that the entire patrol had to help carry him back. A stokes shell they'd brought with them was thrown into the post, thereby wrecking it completely. The enemy retaliated by shelling his own lines.

My uncle suffered a shattered left arm, shrapnel in his right leg, and the loss of his left one. He was awarded the MC.

[Landsturm]

Agree with the rest, and welcome to MGWAT! I hope we see you in the future months also

[Landsturm]

All K.I.A? Helloooo????

[Michael Johnson]

It's going to be a short poll this out.

[squirrel]

"Gasping for breath, shaking, ears ringing, throat and nose dry and sore from the grenade explosions, sweating, exhausted and a bloody club in my hand.

So, that was trench raid. A straight in and straight out grab for a prisoner, drag him out ,clout anybody who gets in the way and then throw your grenades and run like hell while the covering party opens up and all hell breaks loose.

Half an hour to crawl over, every nerve tingling for the slightest noise or movement.

Less than five minutes in their trench and another couple to run back, fall in a shell hole, trip over your own wire and fall in to your own trench.

Less than three quarters of an hour but it seemed like a lifetime.

I need to be sick."

Couldn't get the rhymes to work this month so hope this will do.

[Chris Foster]

Good effort Squirrel !

Its coming up to last orders folks so if you want to squeeze one in, nows the time.

I'm not going to be around to set up the poll as I mentioned at the start of the month, I'm hoping some one will cover for me, in the interests of keeping everything in MGWAT running smoothly.

See you next month.

Chris

[Michael Johnson]

I'll do it, Chris. Adding categories improves my odds.

[Ozzie]

Good effort Squirrel, you don't always have to do poetry. I like your line of thought.

Cheers

Kim

[Chris Foster]

I'll do it, Chris. Adding categories improves my odds.

Thanks Michael

Regards

Chris

[squirrel]

Thanks for the comments and encouragement. Not many entries this month but the quality is good throughout if I may say so.

[Gunboat]

Sorry not as delightfully succint as squirrels but here is my last minute entry

The Trench Raid

Captain Rawlings was the kind of officer whose breezy optimism served as an inspiration to his men. There was little evidence of this cheerful disposition as he ducked under the entrance to the dug out and pushed his way through the company office, throwing his helmet onto his desk with a clatter that reverberated around the cramped space.

CSM Potter was a wise old soldier and waited a few moments before getting to his feet and peering around the blanket that served as a partition.

“Begging your pardon sir, are you alright?”

Rawlings was leant back in his chair staring blankly at the roof support beam above him. He hadn’t seemed to notice the Sergeant Major until the polite cough caused him to abruptly sit up in his chair and shuffle some papers at his desk.

“Oh…yes Sergeant Major I am fine…Thank you” he said with a weak smile.

“Tea Sir?” The CSM waved a hand to an unseen orderly and came and stood in front of the desk.

There followed a few minutes of silence save the drumming of Rawlings’fingers on the table. Whatever he had just said to his Sergeant Major he was clearly anxious about something. He barely acknowledged the orderly who placed the steaming mug of tea in front of him, instead he took his silver case out of his pocket took out a cigarette one out and lit it. After taking a deep draw he remembered his manners and invited the Sergeant Major to sit. Potter declined the offer of the cigarette and took out his pipe.

“The Old man wants us to put on another show” Rawlings confided

“When”

“tonight!” he said beneath a heavy frown.

“But sir…..it would be the third show this week….surely another company could….”

Rawlings stopped the CSM with a raised hand”

“I’ve said all this already Mr Potter, but the colonel is adamant it should be our show…says we need a couple of prisoners….half a dozen men…in and out…a nice stroll in the dark he described it”

The CSM shook his head and looked at his feet.

“We have very little choice ….send for Lt Parker, please Mr Potter” Rawlings said as near as he could to his normal breezy manner.

On hearing that he would be leading the raid that night, Lt Edward Parker’s first instinct was to seek out the M.O. and say he was unfit for duty. It wouldn’t have been an untruth either as was overcome with nausea but he knew that it would be taken as a sign of funk and a loss of face. He had protested. It would be the second night that week he would be out on a raid, but despite his sympathetic tones Rawlings couldn’t send anyone else. The colonel had insisted it should be him “young Parker has a smattering of German send him out”. So he had little choice but to accept his fate and make a show of being keen. But it was as much as he could do to walk down the trench without stopping to be sick.

It was three minutes to Zero and still fighting to control his nerves Parker inspected his party. Sergeant Taylor his platoon sergeant a steady regular soldier had taken the news of the impending raid with tighlipped stoicism and immediately volunteered himself and then set off to find other volunteers. It was this group that several hours later were assembled at the foot of the trench ladders. There was Jenkins, a poacher turned gamekeeper, he would scout ahead of the others and find the best route, he was in his element out like a ghost in no-mans land; and he was restless keen to get going. Reilly and McGregor two habitual brawlers who had been serving field punishment following their most recent booze fuelled fight, both carrying large clubs pitted with nails and each wore brass knuckles, they were quietly goading each other Reilly raising four fingers and McGregor shaking his head mouthing “No way” They were nevertheless dependable men and there presence when it came to close quarter fighting would be welcome. Sergeant Taylor carrying a bag of bombs over his shoulder in case the balloon went up and they had to fight their way out but preferring to use his bayonet like a knife for the close quarter stuff. They were all blacked up with burnt cork and were either bareheaded or wearing their cap comforters.

Parker smiled as he thought of the minstrel shows he had seen as a child and how these men were as far removed from the singing, dancing and laughter of those shows as it could possibly get. He looked at his watch he knew Lt Daniels with No 1 platoon were in position just behind the wire to provide fire support; there was two minutes to go. He signalled for Jenkins to climb the ladder but a disturbance behind him prompted him to grab his belt before he reached the top. It was Captain Rawlings pushing his way to the front of the party. He too was blacked up wearing a balaclava helmet and carrying a large cutlass type knife.

“ I heard you was a man down…I would like to come along if that’s alright…its still your show though old man you call the shots!”

He thought Rawlings must be mad, given the choice of the warmth and safety of a dugout or volunteering to come along on this madcap escapade Parker knew what choice he would have made, but who was he to argue. He thanked the Captain and Rawlings fell in behind the others. Parker let go of Jenkins belt and he disappeared like mist over the lip of the trench. Parker signalled to the others and they ascended the ladder, Taylor pausing at the top to help Captain Rawlings. Parker clambered up after them.

***

The prisoner’s eyes were wide with fear as Parker dragged him roughly past Lt Daniels picket who were frantically returning fire at the enemy trenches. He knew it was wrong but Parker struck the prisoner with his fist causing the under-officer to fall to the ground cowering and whimpering like a dog. Parker struck out with his foot and lunged forward, he would have torn the man to pieces had Sergeant Taylor not pushed him aside.

“ No sir, don’t…lets just get him back” Taylor dragged the prisoner the remaining few yards.

***

They had got into the enemy trench with ease, Jenkins despatching a snoozing sentry and the others tumbling in after him. They had come across a dug out and Reilly and McGregor went in, there was some muffled cries and the others followed them in. They emerged with three panic stricken looking prisoners. Parker spoke to them in German, telling them to stay silent, Reilly reinforced this by putting his finger to his lips and then drawing it across his throat. Parker pulled Taylor aside whilst the others caught their breath.

“I don’t think we get can three back” he said somewhat alarmed at what he was suggesting

“I am inclined to agree sir we would be better just taking two”

Parker looked over his shoulder at the three prisoners who the hell should he pick

Rawlings came over

“problem?”

“Just saying to Sgt Taylor that three would be a bit of a handful”

“You are probably right…..it’s your call though, I’m just hear for the fun”

Parker knew that Rawlings was right not to make the decision for him but part of him nevertheless resented that he hadn’t taken command of the situation.

He spun around and looked at the three men with their hands still raised. One was a tough looking under-officer he would probably be the most useful as far as intelligence was concerned the second was a weasley looking corporal with several teeth missing the third was merely a boy blonde and handsome and looking terrified.

Parker was suddenly overcome with sympathy for the young boy

Parker pulled Reilly aside

“We can’t take all three…get rid of the man in the middle”

Reilly didn’t say anything he just turned and suddenly lunged for the man in the middle prompting Taylor and Rawlings to grab hold of the other two men silencing them with hands over their mouths. The third man had realised what was happening to him but Reilly had pushed him back inside the dugout before he could make a noise. He emerged a moment later and with a grisly smile held up four fingers to a disgruntled looking McGregor.

Parker sent Jenkins ahead and the others gingerly climbed out of the trench the prisoners being held in the iron grip of McGregor and Reilly. Parker and Taylor paused at the lip of the trench to cover the withdrawal and followed behind.

Jenkins had got them 50 yards from their own trench when Reilly stumbled over a potholed cursing loudly and momentarily releasing his hold on the young boy.

It was enough for the boy to wriggle free and he turned and ran shouting for help as he weaved his way back toward his own trench

Rawlings went after him and was within arms reach when the machine guns opened up. The boy fell. Rawlings crouched over the body with the bullets searing the air all around him struggling to get his revolver from the holster. He managed to fire two shots and had half turned to try and return when the rounds tore through him and he stumbled forward onto his knees.

Parker ordered his men to run for it as Lt Daniels platoon returned fire. Reilly yelled that his ankle was broken. McGregor turned back to get him Taylor grabbing the remaining prisoner and hauling him bodily towards their own lines. McGregor reached Reilly and putting his shoulder under his arm managed to lifted him and support his weight, Reilly trying his best to hobble along.

Jenkins ran past Taylor and Parker to help his comrades only to see McGregor fall and then the pitiful sight of Reilly dragging himself nearer to his fallen comrade before he stiffened under the burst of fire that pitted the ground around him and then thumped into his body. Jenkins turned and retraced his steps at some speed.

Taylor pushed the prisoner over the lip of the trench having pulled him away from the enraged Parker. The prisoner received rough treatment as he fell to the ground by the angry men who had been watching events unfurl from the firestep. Parker waited for Jenkins to appear before he allowed himself to be pulled into the trench.

The three men sat breathless on the firestep as the firing slowly died down.

The MO came over with a flask.

“Brandy…purely medicinal” he said handing the flask to Parker who handed it straight to Jenkins

The CSM came over and looked down at the prisoner who was sat on the duckboards with several bayonets pointing in his direction.

“Captain Rawlings…?” he said his eyes almost pleading

Parker shook his head

“permission to go an look for him and the others” the CSM said grabbing a rifle from one of the men

“No Sergeant Major it will serve no use…take this wretch down to Battalion HQ and tell the colonel I hope he is worth the cost of this little stroll in the bloody dark…I will report in the morning….”

Parker got up and headed back to his dug out he had gone a few paces when he turned back to Taylor and Jenkins still sat on the firestep drinking from the flask…he nodded... they nodded back….there was afterall no words he could possibly have said.

[Landsturm]

Waited until the last minute, huh? Good one! Couple "typos", but who am I to say as a non-English speaker? Maybe I had used unteroffizier instead of "under-officer", sounds funny. Other than that, one of the best in my opinion, finished in a hurry or not. Great way to close this month.

[Landsturm]

Any objections if I go set up the next title?

[Gunboat]

....but who am I to say as a non-English speaker?

There is a line of thought prevalent accross the UK that because of the accents we have where I come from that English is my second language as well

[Ozzie]

Hurried, but good, Gunboat!

Cheers

Kim

[CrazyThumbs]

Yea I know it's not March and the contest is over, but I saw this thread today and felt like drawing something that matched the criteria

Doesn't really deserve its own thread so I posted I'll put it in here.

Day late and a dollar short.

Maybe I'll make a Gallapoli sketch.

[Gunboat]

Hiya better late than never

Good entry, I really like your use of hatching!

I look forward to your entry for this month.

[Chris Foster]

Welcome aboard CT

Like Gunboat I look forward to you having a go at this Month's MGWAT

Regards

Chris

[squirrel]

A Gallipoli sketch would be good - well done on the Trench Raid.

[Ozzie]

Crazy, please have another go in April's topic.

Love to see more of your work.

Kim