It had been 9 months since Dan signed up for this godforsaken war, one he didn’t even remember the reason behind. Like most of the too-young soldiers with buzz-cuts and tears late at night; he was drawn in by the glitz and glamour- the swooning girls, the tight-fitting uniform, the chance to prove himself a man. But now the days were melding into each other, his feet were so frostbitten he was sure his frostbite HAD frostbite on it and he was starting to think that dying didn’t seem so bad.
He hated it here. He hated it from the stench of his uniform he never got to take off and wash, to the way his muscles burned with exhaustion and how dead bodies didn’t seem to make him gag anymore. He didn’t feel fully human, with his dead eyes and dead feet and dead heart that refused to listen to the soft persuasion of his brain.
So, here he was. Hunched over in the trenches, mud caking every square inch of his clothing. Eyes empty, hands steady even as his mind trembled with anticipation. He aimed the eagerly-waiting rifle at his enemies and fired. It bounced back in his arms like a rabid dog, but he’d had enough practice by now to control it.
Dan closed his eyes for a second; just one blissful second. He allowed his tired mind to fade out. Anywhere. Somewhere safe, familiar, real. Some place he longed so desperately to be. Anywhere but here. In the garden of his childhood house, surrounded by overgrown daisies; an old swing creaking in one corner. Playing with his younger brother, having not a care in the world. He could almost hear his laughter again, twinkling in his memory. He could also smell the fresh air. He breathed in, lost in his vision.
“Howell, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
And with that, his day dream vanished, replaced with the stench of dirt and rotten bodies once more. He turned, only to be met with the stern eyes of his captain. Shakily, he lifted the rifle once more, only when he’d lined up his sighting did the captain trudge away; hunting for someone else to bark at.
Then a rumour; no heavier than dandelions floating across a field spread across the soldiers, who were worn-out like old boots that couldn’t be thrown out. It traveled to every ear until it reached him. Dan.
An armistice for a day? There was no way the generals would agree. Who would be brave enough to step out first? Foolish, his mind whispered, a constant snipe.
But then there was a sudden gasp from someone nearby. A man with too-pale skin and knobby wrists stood up from the other side, hands obviously shaking even from a distance. Dan breathed in, watching his comrades still, hushed murmurs crowding around them.
The man took a step forward. Then another. His hands were empty, everyone could see. He looked too young to risk his life for such a thing- but again, who would be so reckless but someone with too much faith in this world?
In the midst of the chaos, Dan heard a cock of a rifle. “Don’t shoot!” He yelped, mouth instinctively reacting, his mind catching up a few seconds later, watching the recoil of his officer’s expression.
With widened eyes, he rushed to defend himself. “There could be peace for a day- don’t you think it’s worth it?” His comrades sniggered, enjoying the show the boy was giving.
Dan had enough. He straightened his back, the gas mask and heavy equipment strapped to his back knocking against each other as he stood up.
“Get the fuck down! Trap!” His captain’s panicked yell had no impact. Dan stepped out into the open, a buzz in his ears masking his face until all remained was calmness.
There were only meters between them now. Dan dropped his rifle. It fell to his feet, a dead carcass awaiting vultures. Unwanted, unneeded. He moved forward, hands firmly by his sides. “I’m not armed!” He shouted hoarsely, voice cracking from days of silence.
Blue meet brown, eyes locked in a battle.
The man laughed, a whoop to the skies that echoed across the two sides of the ditch. “No gun,” He said in stilted English, a heavy accent rolling off his tongue. The expression on his face wrote fear, but even more, amazement.
“Dan,” Dan said, pointing at himself, a little shell-shocked at what they’ve done.. A bullet could have easily killed either of them.
“Phil,” the man replied, tongue poking out like a little puppy that just got his favourite treat. “Phillip.” He added, as if it were an afterthought that popped up in the middle of nowhere.
You’re an idiot, that’s what you are, Dan thought to himself, his brain a muddle of giddiness. And so am I.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his voice soft. Something in him broke at that exact moment. He clutched Phil in a tight hug, sobbing with coped-up emotions. And mostly, happiness and relief.
(It wasn’t long until everyone joined them, one by one, streaming near them with empty hands and open arms. No man’s land became a safe haven- even if it was just for a day.)
Co-written with @Happilyheartbroken13
100 points! very original and emotional, good job. Your team has completed this challenge
