Tigers on the Western Front (Royal Zombie Corps Book 2)
Page 8
'It's bloody typical,' Matthews interrupted, 'every bleeding time we get a chance to break through, there's always a massive cock up.'
'That's enough Matthews.' Scott dismissed the negative comments even though everyone present knew they were true, 'It's our necks on the line and if we advance without proper support we'll all end up just as dead as your friends there.' Scott pointed to the zombies.
'Great so we just pack up and go home.' Marsh said. He ducked as several German shells landed close together. They just missed the newly captured trench. The shrapnel whistled passed, one large chunk scything through the belly of an Australian who crumpled to the floor, wailing in agony, while trying to shove his intestines back into his belly.
'Let's get moving now!' Scott insisted, energised by the return of danger. He ran off down the trench towards the rest of the company without waiting for a reply.
It did not take much longer to get their withdrawal organised. The enemy artillery barrage continued, growing in ferocity, the Germans having clearly ranged their guns in on their old positions. It was only a matter of time before the Germans launched a counter-attack. When that happened Marsh knew that he, and his Tigers, would simply be in the way of the Australian defence. Attaching themselves to a small group of Australian soldiers, escorting some German prisoners, the combat group quickly made their way out of the captured German trench into no-man's-land, rushing back towards their own lines.
The German barrage extended well beyond the trench they had just vacated. Timed fuses on the shells caused airborne explosions. Each of these sent out small balls of metal, and torn shell casing, across the battlefield. These fused shells looked like harmless puffs in the air, but were designed to maim soldiers moving in the open or hidden in uncovered trenches. The shrapnel shells were mixed in with high explosive shells. Each of these dug sizeable craters out of the already torn up ground. Chunks of rock, earth, and corpses were lifted into the air, blast and shrapnel from these explosions equally lethal. Though the retreating soldiers and their prisoners crouched close to the ground, they could not avoid all this fire. A near miss, dropped several German prisoners and one Australian guard. These men had been ahead of Marsh, and as he ran past them, he could see hardly a mark on their bodies. They had been killed by the blast. Within seconds the survivors were leaping into the second German trench, trying to find some cover from the artillery.
'Bloody hell, they got me.' Morgan muttered, blood pouring from a cut in his sleeve.
'Let me look.' Wells grabbed at Morgan's flapping right arm, holding it still and pulling up the sleeve, 'You daft bastard, it's just a scratch. Look at it.'
'It bloody hurts.' Morgan swore, going pale as he looked at the small hole in his forearm and the tiny exit wound around the back, his facial tic starting up for the first time today.
'I'll get it tied off. Can't have you bleeding to death, we'll never hear the end of it.' Wells pulled out his dressing kit and tied a bandage tightly around the wounded limb, 'You're got some small bits of shrapnel still in your arm, although it looks like the big one went straight through. Hold that.' Wells gave one end of the bandage to Morgan to hold while tightening off the bandage before tying a knot.
'Sarge! Sarge! Bandage me next.' Matthews chimed in a child-like voice.
'Shut up you git.' Morgan managed before he drained his hip flask in one gulp, 'Bloody hurts.'
'Everyone else here?' Wells asked.
'The Aussies and the prisoners took a hit.' Davies reported. He took out his machete to sharpen the edge again. There were a few new nicks in the edge.
'Lost a Tiger to a direct hit.' Morgan spat between clenched teeth.
'Which one?' Marsh asked, 'I didn't see it.'
'One of the ones we started the day with. One second he was there, the next there was mud and chunks of him flying through the air.' Morgan said, 'I don't know what's worse, bloody zombies or artillery?'
'You can have a cuddle with a zombie and then tell us.' Matthews sarcastically commented.
'Ha bloody ha.'
'Someone give Morgan a cigarette, it'll keep him quiet.' Marsh said. Wells followed up by lighting a cigarette and putting it in Morgan's mouth.
The rifle fire coming from the forward trench grew in volume as the German artillery barrage ceased. It had only been sporadic during the barrage, as the Australians were focused on survival. Clearly a major counter-attack was now underway and the Australians were desperately holding out. Shouts came for the forward trench and it was clear that the fight had descended to hand-to-hand fighting. More Australians advanced forward to reinforce their forward units as the combat group resumed the withdrawal from the field, unable to offer much support in a defensive battle. For the Tigers, the battle was over.
ABOUT THE BOOK
As with the previous book in this series, there are several different influences on this book. This has been covered in the previous book, but are worth repeating due to their significance. The original idea for the story came in early 2015 when reading transcripts of veterans of the trenches, published in the BBC History Magazine. Having always been interested in oral history, I was quickly writing several ideas down.
I wanted to write a counterfactual history story, rather than a story set in our historic past. Works that were an inspiration included 'The Third World War' by General Sir John Hackett; 'World War Z' by Max Brooks; 'The Great War' series by Harry Turtledove; and 'The Bloody Red Barron', part of the 'Anno Dracula' series by Kim Newman.
Zombies were the chosen form of this counterfactual. Before long I was thinking about how the British would develop such a 'war-winning' weapon. As a template, I took some of their work on the 'tank', which Harry Turtledove reinvented as the 'barrel' in his own work. The rest I have tried to keep close to the historical record.
The Battle of Arras was the main historical setting for this story. Taking place between 9th April and 4th May 1917 in a series of eight battles, the Battle lead to some limited successes for the British. The Canadians and Australians were notable in their contributions, especially the methodical Canadian attack on Vimy Ridge. The third of these, the First Battle of Bullecourt took place on the 10th and 11th April and is the setting of the assault alongside the ANZACs. The ANZACs were significant in the attack at Bullecourt, supported by tanks and assaulting British divisions. Casualties were high and the tanks quickly bogged down, suffered mechanical failure, or were defeated by enemy action. A lack of planning, due to the last minute orders to attack, may have contributed. I have written the Tigers into this battle, with the outcome little changed.
It was during this time that the Allied tactics on the Western Front were rapidly developing. The raw volunteer armies of the British Empire were gaining hard won experience in the trenches. In February 1917, tactical movement on the battlefield was reintroduced as more flexible combat formations were introduced based around light machine guns and fast movement. The slow 'walking' advances of 1916, which were not as widespread as popular belief suggests, were consigned to history. To a degree, my characters have reflected this change in tactics, although some with much less flexibility and willingness than others.
One of the more willing was Field Marshall Haig. Popular belief talks of the 'lions led by donkeys', certainly the case in 1915. By 1917, Haig was pushing through lots of new technology, encouraging his officers to innovate in the field. If anything, Haig had far too many responsibilities, and many of the criticisms relating to him boil down to this. Despite the myths, Haig was learning, putting into practice the hard won experience of the trenches.
First and foremost, this is a fictional story. Therefore any errors and deviations from the historical events are either deliberate or due to the failings of the author. Thank you to Helen for rooting out many of the errors. Even with the introduction of zombies, this story can not even begin to bring to light the horror of the trenches. With the experience now faded from living memory, only the sanitised accounts left by the participants can even
start to show us what went on. This book was written in British English.
C.M. Harald, July 2016. Ramsgate.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
C.M. Harald is an history teacher and writer living in an English coastal town within sight of France.
He has taught in a range of challenging schools, and is now returning to writing having spent many years concentrating on teaching.
COMING SOON
Royal Zombie Corps (Book 3) – Gas! Gas! Gas!
www.cmharald.net
Also available
Blood, mud and corpses - RZC 1
The Butcher's Funeral
Also available as individual episodes
The Butcher's Funeral
Episode 1
The Butcher's Funeral
Episode 2 - Hocking
The Butcher's Funeral
Episode 3 – The Butcher's Wife
The Butcher's Funeral
Episode 4 – The Wise Woman
The Butcher's Funeral
Episode 5 – The Carniter
The Butcher's Funeral
Episode 6 – The Thief
The Butcher's Funeral
Episode 7 – The Trial
www.cmharald.net