THE FRONT: PART 9
Scott walked briskly through the mud, his paws stained with Private Martin's blood. He had caught up with the two anthros carrying Private Martin and had taken his legs, making the dead anthro considerably easier to carry.
"Corporal, we need to see if that sniper's still keeping a lookout on this parapet." It was Wynter, his helmet was off and his ears were twitching whenever drops of rain hit them. Scott nodded and took Wynter's helmet from his outstretched hand. In Basic School they had taught that if you ever got into a sniper battle then he best tactic was to raise a helmet on a bayonet in front of the parapet slit to make it look like another soldier was advancing up the parapet steps.
Scott leaned over the steps and raised the helmet on his bayonet, it was level and looked like it would if an anthro was actually wearing it. There was another distant crack, then the edge of the parapet slit exploded in a puff of mud and rotting straw. Scott withdrew the helmet and handed it back to Wynter, who set it back onto his head with a frown.
"He's still there, what do we do, sir?" Asked a private near Scott, he was a fox, but his red fur was matted with mud and Scott could hardly tell his species.
"Simple, we just avoid sending anyone up there until he loses his paitence and leaves." There was a sigh from his right and Scott looked over to see Wynter looking at him grimly.
"Corporal, you leave the master decisions up to me, when I last checked I outranked you." Scott felt a little surge of shame run through him.
"Sorry sir." He said, Wynter nodded and turned back towards the men of his squad.
"I need three volunteers, we are mounting a raid on the German lines directly opposite ours tonight at eleven, does everyone have their watches synchronized?" The anthros checked their watches nervously and after a while everyone nodded.
"Alright, now I need volunteers, brave men step forwards now." There was a moment of hesitation, then one anthro, a rabbit, stepped forwards and walked up to Wynter. Wynter looked at the rest of the anthros with cold eyes.
"I could have sworn that I had a squad of men here, but instead the High Command seems to have sent me school girls!" Scott winced, the barb hurt and a few men stirred as they summoned their inner courage. Then two more anthros stepped forwards reluctantly, and trudged over to Wynter.
"Good, you've found your courage, don't lose it again!" The two men stirred uncomfortably, regretting their decision immediately. Wynter turned back to Scott and looked at him.
"Corporal, you will take charge of the remainder of the squad while I am gone, and in the rare chance that I do not come back, then you will take my position as sergeant, but if you hear gunfire and screams, do not come rescue us, that will just get more good anthros killed, remain in this trench come hell or high water, understand?" Scott raised his arm in a stiff salute.
"Yes sir!" Wynter nodded and walked backdown the trench, a few of the anthros looked over at Scott, but none seemed as impressed with him as they were with Wynter.
As he stood besides the parapet where Private Martin had so recently met his end Scott felt the first little prickles of fear in his stomach again, the doubt too. Scott closed his eyes and leaned up against the side of the trench, his paws sinking deep into the mud. How would he survive this war?
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART TEN...