Claude.S+-+The+Front

“The Front”

“ey get outta here mate, we real men need this here chum more then you pussies” This or something similar happens most every day, the ‘real’ men have more of a right to the food provided for all the soldiers, the only thing those dumbasses deserve more than us is a bullet in the knee. Grow a brain guys, we run the same distance as you and the only difference between you and me is, I’m not a retard more than willing to run out in the line of fire ‘protecting my country’.

In my platoon, most of the soldiers are assholes. Idiots who like to prove how buff they are and run out into battle. They are just the pawns of this war, though it upsets me to think that yeah, I and the other conscripts are also pawns, just less enthusiastic to get our faces blown off.

We conscripts stick together in a place like this, it’s impossible to get anywhere with the others. They are all, prove how manly you are, ‘fight em’, just run in there and ‘fuck shit up’. Getting into an argument with people like that is pointless, say anything intelligent and they just won’t get it; they stick to the generic idiotic insults, retards. So we unwilling soldiers stick together, we get through it as a group, we don’t want to be here.

On the other hand there are those weapon-nut freaks. Sitting around discussing strategies and weapons; horrible stuff in this situation. The war is all such a great thing for them; it’s all a great game where they are the pros. They get along with the patriotic kind, although they aren’t retards like them, they aren’t bullies; they accept those who don’t want to be here. But they still just don’t get it, they think the war is the best thing to ever happen and they love it. They can’t understand that we just don’t want to be here.

The worst thing about being here is that all the leaders in our platoon are assholes. They are with the patriotic thick bastards when it comes to picking sides, and believe me; they don’t even pretend to be unbiased. One time a mate got strangled half to death by one of the bastards in our dorm, our dorm leader didn’t give a shit, but when another mate got into a fight with one of them, he was the one pulled out and given kitchen duty for the month. Those guys know we don’t want to be here, and they take it as an excuse to give us plenty more reason to not want to be here.

Yesterday they decided they wanted us to go to the front line, so now here we are, almost there. I can hear the shells landing in the trenches, a dull thud from here. I’m in the back of a large truck sitting right between two of the worst people in our platoon. They aren’t giving me too much shit today though; it appears that they are too worked up over going to the front.

A bomb landed right next to the shelter, crushing the entrance… trapping us in here with the thugs. We stood back as I watched them trying to use their brawn to open up the door, failing though, pushing in all the wrong places. I walked around to where they were panicking shoving at the once-door, I was just told to get out of the way. I sat back watching them fail to get it open and after a while they gave up.
 * Crunch* - “DAMMIT!”

If you looked inside the bunker you’d instantly see the social divides. In the far corner you would see a small huddle of us conscripts talking quietly, keeping to ourselves. While spread out around the rest of the room, the thuggish soldiers are pacing around shouting loudly, panicking. The two groups did not converse with each other at all; they may as well have been in different shelters.

Hours passed and the tension in the room was building up, the thugs began looking towards our small group, they had all tried the door but we hadn’t even had a look. I suppose they expected us to give it a shot as well, but I know the pressure on us is higher; they will make a big deal out of it if one of us fails.

All eyes are on me, without even thinking I had gotten up and started to make my way towards the doorway. My mates are looking at me with curiosity, but the thugs have an odd look of resentment. I stand back and have a look at the doorway. There was a metal frame around the door before it got bombed and now there is hard metal poking all around, and large rocks and gravel covering everything. I don’t think we will be getting out that way any time soon.

I walked back to the group of conscripts, most of the thugs at lost interest in me and were back to doing their own thing. Sitting down I remembered something about the positioning of the shelter. I brought it up with the group and they knew what I was talking about. It would be easier to dig through the left side of the bunker then the doorway with all the metal crushed into it. Although one issue, we needed the other’s help.

I brought up the idea with the other guys and just as I thought, they had no intention of helping us. They could not bear the idea that we would be able to get us out after they spent hours slamming against the doorway. This got us nowhere; they wouldn’t help so we sat back down and waited till they decided to stop being idiots.

Soon enough one rather fat man decided that he just WOULDN’T sit around in here for any longer. He stood up and came right over to us, then demanded us to show him where to dig. We got up and moved over to where four men were sitting playing poker. Pointing to the spot of wall behind them I told the fat man where to dig. The poker men didn’t like the idea at first but eventually moved their lazy selves over out of the way, only because the fat man threatened them.

We drew out a square of where to dig on the shelter wall and the fat man got at it with a stone we had found. Soon enough the whole shelter full of soldiers were helping out in some way, half the thugs were digging, the other half were moving away the dirt, while we were making shovel like things with stones we found. We were all working well together and you would forget that we all hated each other; even we forgot that we hated each other during that hour period.

After working together to get out we shouted and jumped celebrating our success and our teamwork. We seemed to be all friends now after going through our ordeal. Nobody shoved anyone around and we got through the front line together.

When we got back to the camp the unavoidable happened. When the other soldiers who didn’t go to the front came around, our new friends would go back to their old ways. It became apparent that they wouldn’t be seen with us in front of the other guys; it is as though we degraded their social status. It didn’t matter to me though; I’m fine with everything being back to normal. It’s just the way it’s meant to be, we are the outsiders, they are the insiders, it’s how the world works.