Kiss of an Angel

The prodigious, teeth-rattling BOOM and reverberation of the gigantic explosion gradually dissipated. Soil and stones, flung high into the air, rained back to earth with a clatter. The land stilled, and a loud, surreal, silence prevailed. Then... the piercing whistles shrilled. The ear ringing at once ceased. The overpowering stench of the trench instantly vanished. The draining nausea and gut-wrenching stomach spasms from rotten food immediately disappeared. The self-loathing and disgust of diarrhoea-stained underwear and uniform, forgotten in a flash. The nagging discomfort of blistered, wrinkled and festering feet that had not seen daylight for many days, suddenly of no importance. The sticky, odious sweat, unwashed for weeks, no longer any concern. The puddles and the soggy, cloying, gluey mud, unnoticed. The misery of aching muscles and limbs caused by perpetual digging, promptly left all consciousness. The wretched and interminable, anxious anticipation, instantaneously departed. Massive doses of involuntary epinephrine simultaneously surged throughout the troops. The fight or flight response blocked out all other external stimuli. The whispered fervent praying to various deities increased in desperate earnest. “Go! Go! Go!” the Sargent yelled. The front rank took a deep collective breath. Pushed and encouraged by the following ranks, the soldiers began climbing the short, slippery, muddy, ladders. After cresting the top, the men, bearing full military-kit packs and tightly fastened helmets, determinedly marched into No Man's Land. Rifles at the ready. Bayonets fixed. I was in the third rank and was jostled and shoved forward by those behind me. I felt in danger of feinting. Sheer fright stealing my breath, I could hardly climb the steps. Knees jelly. My only sustaining crutch was camaraderie. I could not allow any outward show of cowardice in front of my mates. They all felt the same way. I prayed for a quick, painless death. A bullet to my head please. In front of me I heard the bravado cries of 'forward'. I prepared myself for the enemy's barrage of deadly metal. Nothing happened. Incongruously, birds sang. Insects droned. Early morning sunrays percolated the hazy dawn mist. With my comrades, I marched determinedly forward towards the enemy lines. Apparently, our week-long artillery bombardment, and our massive mine, had indeed obliterated the Germans. A reprieve! My tension began to dissolve. This was to be the simple mop-up operation promised. An easy victory. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat… Suddenly all hell let loose! Machine guns, rifles, and mortars burst into lethal life. The air became alive with whistles and whooshes. A continuous storm of supersonic bee-like missiles filled the air. Blinding flashes. Thunderous explosions. Deadly shrapnel squealed and whizzed. A cacophony of shouts, and screams, and shrieks. Thick choking smoke. Men fell. Twisted, broken, twitching. Hemorrhaging bodies everywhere. Countless crimson pools formed. It was worse than any Hell anyone could ever imagine. Lucifer's domain. And the Devil himself was here in residence. Mindlessly, along with my comrades, I kept marching forwards. To where, and why, now escaped me. Shocked out of sentience, I became mechanical. Months of training and drills dumbly propelled me on. Airborne body parts and showers of blood were disseminated around me. A bullet flashed past close to my head. I felt a sharp sting on my left ear. My ear lobe, in an instant, ceased to exist. Seconds later, I felt a pernicious thwack in my chest. Which stalled my forward momentum. It seemed to be a serious blow. However, no thoughts other than to keep moving forward penetrated my frazzled mind. Now, I was praying frantically for deliverance. Somehow, without conscious thought, I found myself running. Onward, towards the unholy bombardment of Perdition facing me. Was I brave, or recklessly foolhardy? Dive to the ground for cover. I could vaguely hear the desperate yells of instruction to myself. However, on I went. Ploughing through the churned-up, blood-reddened mud. A blinding white light engulfed me. An ear-shattering thunder and a blast of super-heated air instantaneously followed. A mortar exploded at my feet, fragmenting into a salvo of catastrophic shrapnel. My left leg totally disintegrated. Blasted out of existence. The violent escape of gases and explosives cartwheeled my body. Like a rag doll discarded from a pram. I landed in an entanglement of needle-sharp, rusting barbed wire. While flinching and throwing my arms around, fighting against the unrelenting grip of the barbs, apparently I nearly threw myself off the leather couch. * I found myself at the bottom of a deep, black tunnel. A nauseous low-vibration buzzing, evidently originating in my own head, clouded all my senses. My mouth dry. My tongue heavy. My breathing shallow, too shallow for comfort. A faint light appeared in the distance. It gradually grew in intensity. I locked onto the light. I moved towards it. I felt sure it was showing me the way back. The buzzing began to subside. My breathing blessedly regulated. The nausea loosened its grip. I heard a voice. I am sure I did. Yes! The tone of it seemed calm and reassuring. It became another lifeline on which to cling. “Geoff... Geoff. Relax. Take it easy. You're fine. Slowly, slowly. You're coming back. Slowly. Take your time. Slowly. Deep breaths. Slowly...” I felt light-headed and woozy. My consciousness, though, beginning to reassert itself. Everything still felt unreal. I opened my eyes a little. The room was spinning wildly. “Welcome back Geoff. That was quite a trip you had there. Take it easy. Slowly... slowly. Deep breaths my friend.” The fog gradually cleared. The voice became clearer. The room stopped spinning. It came into focus. I was back and ecstatic to be so. I reached down instinctively to touch my left leg. Then my chest. Then my left ear. I mentally examined my body for pain. There was none. I was whole.