Heroes on the Hook

The wounded soldier winced as he groveled in the wet and muddy shell hole trying to find more cover. The explosion of artillery shells made his ears ring and fear forced him into a fetal position. Each time he moved, pain from the shrapnel imbedded in his leg, burned its way through his mind and body. The continuous bombardment sent screaming shells from the Germans answered by Allied artillery followed by earth shaking convulsions that muffled the cries of men shouting for help-praying at the top of their lungs as they died. Sergeant Handson conquered his pain and fear as he looked around for his men. They were piled like cordwood from the bottom of his shell-hole to the top. Blood and urine mingled with warm brain matter trickled down from the bodies above him. It was too much-he lapsed into unconsciousness. This terrible memory would haunt him for the rest of his life. Many nights found him weeping in his bathroom, shaking with fear-shuddering, as imaginary body fluids flowed over his skin. He never told anyone, he preferred to pray his way from their horror.