The British and French armies were forced to retreat once again deeper into France. For several days, the withdrawals continued as far south as the Marne River. Instead of retreating again, the allies fought oppressively instead of defensively, and pushed the troops of the central powers back as far north as the Aisne River. To firmly hold their position, Germany’s armies began to build trenches. Likewise, the allied troops began to build trenches to halt any further invasion. This action would mark a turning point in The Great War that would begin a new kind of warfare ~ stalemate.
After building their new homes, Clovis and Homer watched the soldiers form the trenches, each dug several feet deep, with duckboards placed at the bottom. The trenches were shaped in zigzag form to avoid total bombardment. Along the top of the trenches were endless rolls of barbed wire to halt intruders, open at certain intervals for the allied troops to exit. Separate trenches along the sidelines were reserved for the grenadier guards.
The troops had followed their leaders off to war waving their banners of glory, with promises that the war would end by Christmas. But life in the trenches would tell a different story.
The next morning, they flew to the sidelines and found a good place for their lookout. Machine guns rattled incessantly, as one of the grenadiers went over the top, throwing hand grenades across no man’s land to clear the way for his rifle-bearing comrades. A whistleblower stood at the end of the trench line. On the third whistle, he ordered the Tommies over the top to halt the oncoming enemy.
“Get them before they come and get you!” he commanded over and over. Clovis wondered why the soldiers were forced to leave the safety of the trenches.
“Why can’t the allied soldiers fight from the trenches, instead of going over the top?”
“Don’t know, looks like some kind of game to me,” replied Homer.
In the beginning, the troops were full of patriotic spirit as they ran over the top like a storm that hits with its mighty force to conquer all who challenges its inevitable wrath, but most of them would never return. The trench lines had produced a deadly gauntlet that would become known as no man’s land ~ the battlefield between the guns of the allies, and the guns of the central powers. Sometimes the wounded were able to crawl to safety in newly shelled holes where they waited for rescue by the medics.
Clovis and Homer liked watching the grenadier. Running over the top, he stopped short, leaned back with one arm forward, pulled the magic pin and threw the grenade far out into no man’s land. Homer watched with anticipation as each grenade exploded on impact.
“Boom!” he yelled each time.
As the trees near the sidelines were destroyed by heavy gun artillery, Clovis and Homer were forced to move further into the forest.
When gunfire decreased on the battlefield, some of the soldiers would take a short break from the front lines. One day Clovis and Homer followed the grenadier to a quiet location in the woods. To their surprise, he sat beneath a tree and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. He began to silently read a letter from home. His eyes clouded with tears that soon streamed down his face. He squeezed the letter tightly against his chest, and began to cry aloud, as though he would never see his family again.
“What’s this bloody war about, anyway?” he couldn’t help but wonder aloud.
After a few moments, he composed himself as he acknowledged the presence of two wild birds standing before him with sooty beaks and grimy feathers. Their tame approach reminded him of the roaming pigeons back home, and he compassionately pulled out a crumbling piece of bread from his pocket. His spirit was lifted with the essence of freedom given to birds living in the wild.
“Here, my feathered friends,” throwing the crumbs on the ground before them. It was the first time they had seen him smile.
“Tur-rr,” responded Clovis, and Homer followed with a short whistle.
While they were feasting on the delicious crumbs, the grenadier was summoned back to his post.
“Well, cheerio!”
“Yum, yum,” exclaimed Homer. “When the war is over, I am going into the big city and beg for bread crumbs all day.”
“Yes, Homer, when the war is over,” said Clovis as he watched the grenadier return to his post on the battlefield.
Germany had led its strongest units to invade France, using passage through Belgium, as the British second division continued to defend its position against the enemy. As casualties increased, new recruits arrived daily from Great Britain proudly displaying their flag exhibiting the same patriotic spirit as the troops before them.
Gunfire decreased on both sides to handle another enemy – inclement weather. With heavy downpours, the troops used every means, including their helmets, to scoop the water out of the trenches. The narrow furrows formed between the trench lines for drainage were overflowing.
The weather began to turn cool. One night, a blast of cold air swept across Clovis’ nest. His night shift would end soon and he flew down and snuggled into Homer’s warm nest inside a low-lying shrub. Homer was asleep under a large dried up oak leaf, which Clovis pulled over himself to keep warm. Homer stirred a bit and pulled the leaf back, thinking it was a gust of wind. Clovis tugged at the leaf, which awakened Homer. Back and forth they pulled the leaf between them until Homer stood up.
“I don’t mind sharing my nest with you, Clovis, but quit taking my warm cover!”
“It’s your turn to keep watch!”
“Does the guard on duty have to leave his post?” argued Homer.
“Yes!”
“That’s it, get out!”
“You’re a selfish grouse, Homer. Get out there and do your duty!”
“You want me to crush that little head of yours?”
As they began to wrestle, a strong gust of wind imploded the underbrush around them, and they found themselves in the open cold air. Realizing that pressure of the war was putting a strain on their friendship, they shared shelter in another shrub where they both rested until daybreak.
“We’re supposed to be patriots, Homer.”
“It’s just that for the first time, I really spent a lot of time making a real nest, and then here you come to spoil it.”
“I’m sorry, Homer.”
“Me, too.”
“What are you going to do after the war?” asked Homer
“I want to return to Belgium. What about you?”
“I hope someday to have a son as brave as you, Clovis.”
“I’m not brave.”
“Well, Clovis, I was too big of a coward to tell you, but remember when Fantail asked us to join his flock?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I wanted to join them instead of staying in Belgium.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
“Because I knew you would stay.”
“That was a brave decision, wasn’t it Homer?”
“But, I don’t feel so brave.”
“Neither do I.”