Fire in the Forest

A Story by reibirb

A story written for this prompt: First real battle for a new soldier. Can be whatever kind of combat or era or genre you want, and can end however you want. Make sure the reader knows what the soldier

James was five years old when he managed to convince his younger brother to ride his bike down the steep hill their house was on. His brother broke his arm, and he had to go in and tell his mother that it was his fault for convincing him. He had no idea what his mother would do to him, and he was terrified to find out. Turns out, she was mostly worried about his brother and he got off easy with just a week of not being allowed outside. He didn’t know that at the time, and for a young child, facing the wrath of a parent is one of the scariest experiences of anyone’s life. That terror was nothing to what he was feeling now.

He was strapped into a seat on a plane, surrounded by the soldiers he had trained with for months. James was sure they were all nervous, but he was too focused on his own fear to really pay attention to anyone else. A deep breath in and slowly out did not help. Neither did tapping his fingers on the edge of his seat, although a glare from the man sitting next to him quickly put an end to that idea.

“Alright men, listen up!” James’ officer had a voice like a bullhorn and everyone quickly came out of whatever trance they were attempting to calm themselves with. “We’re about five miles out from the camp, so get ready to drop on my signal! Once you all get organized, we’ll be marching out pretty soon, so make sure you hit the ground running, and no lollygagging! We are not losing anyone on this mission!” His angry determination gave James some level of reassurance. Some, but not much.

A few minutes later, or maybe it was seconds, he couldn’t really tell, the bottom of the plane opened up, and they systematically jumped out so as not to get in each other’s way. James struggled with the cord on his parachute, frantically grabbing at it while the wind teased it away from him. He barely managed to pull it in time, and he felt the jerk of the parachute expanding on his harness. He made it safely to the ground with the rest of his platoon, but the near miss had shaken him. As orders were shouted and soldiers lined up, James automatically followed the rest of the group, barely registering anything.

The platoon moved out onto a worn path through the forest. The young soldier’s hands shook slightly as he gripped his rifle for dear life. They didn’t really know where the enemy was waiting, only that they were somewhere north of the encampment a different group had set up days before. James tried to stay alert, scanning the trees for movement, but thinking about the possibility of a guerrilla attack only made him more jumpy and distracted.

“You, boy.” A harsh voice to his left startled him. “Stop jerking your head around like that, you’ll give yourself whiplash. Your eyes can move too, you know.” James jerked his head again to the place the voice was coming from. Another soldier, who looked about ten years older than him, was marching beside him. His body was relaxed, but he still looked alert. James opened his mouth to respond but no words formed in his head.

“This your first op?” The older soldier inquired. James nodded. “Thought so.” The man sighed, and looked ahead.

“W-What’s your name?” James asked, mentally kicking himself for asking such an unrelated question.

“Dallas Clark.” He raised one eyebrow but didn’t comment otherwise. “You?”

“James Smith.” An awkward silence followed. “How long have you been in the 108th?”

“Three years. It’s horrible, but we don’t get some of the really bad missions. It gets easier after a while. Or, I guess I got used to it.”

“Do you...usually lose a lot of men?”

“Heh. Sometimes. We’re in a relatively safe position now, so you don’t have to worry as much as those guys in the front.”

“O-okay.” James fiddled with a loose string on his sleeve. Dallas chuckled.

“I get that you’re nervous, but you can’t stay scared for long. Panicking will only get you killed out here.” James looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Try singing a song you like in your head. Worked for me.” He nodded, then faced back toward the front, scanning his memories for a song he really liked. Settling on an upbeat song he used to dance to at school, he quietly hummed the melody. Dallas glanced at him but he seemed to be the only one who noticed. James was surprised that the song actually did help. He was by no means relaxed, but it helped him focus on something besides how scared he was. The relief was short lived, however, as a few seconds later, an explosion lit up the shaded forest.

The ranks broke as everyone dove behind trees. James could see a line of soldiers in blue uniform, similar to his green one, running toward them. The pattering of machine gun fire immediately followed the blast of the bomb. James lost track of everyone around him, and started blindly firing at the enemy. Several minutes of back-and-forth gunfire resulted in a call of retreat from the enemy’s side.

About ten soldiers were killed in the explosion. Eight more were lost to enemy fire. The 108th division walked around, tending to the few that were wounded. James wasn’t sure what he should be doing, so he found the nearest body and went to see if they were still alive. Dallas was lying propped against a tree, clutching his leg.

“Hey, kid, you made it!” The wounded soldier was breathing heavily and his voice was shaky.

“What happened? Are you alright?” James knelt down next to him.

“What do you think? I got shot.” Dallas glared at him. James tore off a section of his shirt and began wrapping it around the man’s leg. “Ah, well, it’s not that bad. Not enough for me to bleed out, anyways.” Dallas grunted in pain as James tied up the makeshift bandage. “They knew we were coming. They must have set the explosives to scatter us and make easy targets. We’re lucky they were outnumbered.”

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know, that’s for the officers to decide. They’ll probably send us further in to find where they’re camped out.”

“Won’t they attack us again?”

“Oh, definitely.” Dallas started to get up, and James helped him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders for support. They were silent as they walked/limped over to the pile of blankets where the other wounded soldiers lay. “Go help the others, kid. I’ll be fine for now.” James nodded and went to look for other wounded soldiers.

Sure enough, those who weren’t injured were ordered to line back up and march on. James managed to catch Dallas’ eye one last time before he left. The man looked worried for them. As he marched with the others, the panic from before the attack resurfaced in him. He wished Dallas was here with him. Something about his ease and confidence was reassuring to the new soldier. James shuddered, his hands shaking again as he barely kept a grip on his rifle. He felt so exposed and helpless after seeing what the enemy was capable of. The song didn’t really work anymore; he couldn’t concentrate on anything. Trying even to focus on the woods to alleviate his anxieties about a surprise attack was proving futile. All he could think about was the explosion.