Eleven Eleven - By Paul Dowswell Page 0,40

like they all were. And the man could have killed him easily enough. Axel extended an arm, reaching further down to make contact. But the pilot warned him away. ‘Don’t come any closer. I’m stuck in the mud here. You need to get something, a rope and plank, a belt, to pull me out.’

Eddie wondered whether he had told this boy too much. He was at his mercy. What would he do if the boy refused to help? Threaten to shoot him?

Axel decided what to do in an instant. Otto had told him stories about the trenches. How men had fought like devils but shared cigarettes or water bottles with the enemy after the fighting. The thing that haunted him most, said his brother, was the Tommy he had killed after he had surrendered. But some other enemy soldiers, just up the line, were still fighting. Grenades were coming over. ‘Kill him,’ snapped Otto’s lieutenant, and Otto just lunged in with his bayonet. ‘He looked so surprised, and then he screamed and called for his mother. I can still hear him now. If you have to fight, be careful what you do. You’ll have to live with it for the rest of your life.’

So Axel Meyer undid the belt around his trousers and tossed it towards Eddie Hertz. He noticed Eddie’s eyes went out of focus, and there was sweat on his brow, even though he was up to his thighs in freezing mud . . . Axel knew instinctively he needed first aid. But he couldn’t risk taking him back to his own lines. His own comrades would kill him.

‘Hey, Axel, keep your mind on the job,’ the pilot was telling him.

Axel began to pull hard on the belt, but Eddie kept losing his grip. He was stuck pretty thoroughly here. ‘Wrap it round your hand,’ said Axel. ‘I’ll lean forward some more.’

Eddie did, and Axel pulled with all his strength. But instead of drawing Eddie out, he lurched forward himself and his feet sank deep into the muddy water. In a panic he tried to lift a leg. He was stuck too.

‘Jesus,’ he said in despair. He waited a moment, then tried to lift his left leg again. It was stuck in the mud like it was held there by a giant magnet. ‘Hold steady, Axel,’ said the pilot. ‘We wait. Wait until the firing stops, wait until we hear some cheering, and some church bells, then we start shouting our heads off.’

For a few moments neither said anything. Axel was wondering what sort of hellish mess he had got himself into. Then shells began to fall again, close to their own crater. The first few were far enough away to just hear, but then a brace began to fall near enough for them to hear the scream as they came in. Soil fell around them, and the air was snatched from their lungs. Their ears began to whistle with the noise, then something screamed in right close to them. ‘Dear God,’ said Eddie in English. There was a great thump right next to them, and earth splattered up. Axel looked around. Why weren’t they dead? A small crater had appeared in front of them, not two metres away. They could see the hole the shell had made as it plunged into the damp earth.

They both stared at it, expecting to be blown to pieces at any second. Axel was frozen in terrified expectation. But as nothing happened, the dread he felt gradually began to ebb from his limbs. Instead, he started to shake all over.

‘It must be a dud,’ he said. Otto had told him about shells that landed close by but didn’t explode.

‘Either that or a delayed fuse,’ said Eddie. ‘Let’s hope it’s not ticking.’ He paused and tried to sound more cheerful. ‘No. It’s a message from God. He wants us to live. Sit tight, Axel. We’re going to see the end of this war. You got a girl back home? Well, I’ve got one here, and I’m not planning on dying on her.’

CHAPTER 16

10.30 a.m.

Will ran until his lungs were bursting, expecting a shot in the head at any second. Did you hear it before it hit you? Did you feel it? Or would you never know? Men he had seen shot through the head sometimes had a look of dull surprise etched on their dead faces. Once, he had been working on a burial detail with the new padre, Reverend Oliver. There was