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A twinkling of stars dotted the night sky above Lucas's head. They blinked every now and then as if conversing with one another, discussing the forthcoming events. Taunting, almost. They knew what was about to happen; they knew everything. Lucas, on the other hand, had no clue what was about to happen. Yes, they’d all been briefed on the plan of attack for when they landed, but just because they had a plan, there was no guarantee that it would go right.
Lucas shuffled slightly on his feet, rifle held firmly by his side. The smell of sea salt and the unmistakable odour of sweaty, nervous men clogged his nose, bringing him out of his thoughts of the stars. They were getting closer to the shore now; Lucas could see the faint pale line of sand not far off in the distance, and the closer they got, the faster his heart raced. What would they be faced with when they landed? A full-on assault from the Turkish? Silence except for the sound of their nervous, unsure breathing and the rustle of the wind? A thousand possible scenarios flashed through his mind.
The sound of the men rowing was consistent enough to help ground Lucas's racing thoughts. A splash when the oars went in, a moment of silence, and a splash when the oars came out. Over and over and over again. Over and over and over again. Over and over and over again.
And in what felt like the blink of an eye, the bottom of the boat holding 30 tightly packed and nervous men, scraped along the sandy and rocky floor beneath the choppy waves. Glancing to the side, Lucas could see several other boats doing the same. And suddenly, a resounding bang echoed from behind him. And another. And another. Lucas could faintly see rubble tumbling down the cliff face in front of him. And now the lieutenant colonel was shouting orders at them:
“Off the boats!”
Lucas clambered over the side, landing waist-deep in the freezing cold water. The sudden iciness almost stopped him from continuing, but the shove from a soldier behind him and the sound of gunfire coming from the top of the cliffside pushed him along.
“To the shore!”
He stumbled and clambered as fast as he could through the water, struggling with the added weight of his now soaked pack. He dragged himself out of the waves, dropping his pack on the sand at the order to do so from the lieutenant colonel. The men around him were shouting, some firing their rifles up at the Turkish on the top of the cliff, others dropping to the ground and stumbling backwards, as they were hit by the gunfire from above.
“We need to take Ari Burnu!” the lieutenant colonel shouted, barely heard over the gunfire. “Charge!”
And Lucas was running, running with the men around him, running towards the cliff face, rifle held in front of him as his feet sunk into the sand. Left and right men were dropping to the ground, but Lucas gulped back the tears that threatened to fall, ignoring the heavy ball of guilt that was growing in his stomach. There’s nothing you can do for them, he reminded himself. If you stop now, you’ll only be killed as well.
The man he had been following behind as he raced towards the incline dropped. Right in front of him. Lucas was frozen in shock. That could have been me. He reached a hand up, feeling something warm and sticky on his face. This is nothing like I imagined.
“Come on, kid,” a soldier shouted, shaking Lucas out of his frozen, fear-induced state. “You can’t freak out now.”
Doing his best to heed the soldier’s words, Lucas ran, jumping over the body, and doing his best to ignore the man’s pleas and cries for help. He couldn’t stop the single tear from leaking from his eye though, mingling with the blood on his face.
He scrambled around a bush, starting up the incline, some soldiers already surprisingly far ahead of him. He pushed through the scrub, tripping over rocks what seemed like every other step. Leaves and twigs were in his hair, almost as if imitating a crown of thorns, and he was coated in dust, barely able to see where he was going in the almost darkness. Glancing back quickly, he could see the faint beginning of dawn glancing over the horizon.
Which was a foolish decision, in hindsight.
Lucas turned back to the hillside in front of him and continued moving upwards, legs already aching from the exertion, until a sudden burst of pain shot through his body. He glanced down to the source of the pain, unable to stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes, as blood seeped through the hole in his thigh.
The fire and adrenaline rushing through his veins were slowing, and within what felt like a moment his whole leg was drenched in scarlet, sticky blood. The pain was getting worse as the seconds passed; he couldn’t move, his leg collapsing beneath him, the rocky ground pressing daggers into his back. His rifle lay by his side, forgotten about in the shroud of agonising pain.
And out of seemingly nowhere, a blurry shape appeared above. A hand was around his back. A hand was under his knees. He was off the ground, the dagger-like rocks were gone. The weight of his rifle was laid on his chest, and then he was moving, quickly, before being placed back on the ground. One of the arms was still around his back, the other was on the bullet wound, pressing down firmly.
“Hey, kid,” the voice said. It was warm and kind in Lucas's ears, but raked with panic. “Kid, I’m going to need you to wake up, okay?”
Lucas slowly forced his eyes back open — when had they closed, again? — to find a soldier’s face right before his. Glancing around quickly, a sudden rush of panic-induced adrenaline returning, Lucas noticed that he couldn’t see the sea anywhere he looked.
“Where are we?” he asked, nervousness easily noticeable in his voice. On one side of him was what appeared to be a thick, spiky looking bush, and on the other side, rock. It was hard to tell for sure, though, considering it was almost pitch black where they were. He could still hear the shouting and gunfire, as loud as if he were in the open.
The man — or boy, more so, he looked to be about Lucas's age — reached out, pushing the bush aside a little. The loudness of the gunfire suddenly made sense. They were literally hiding in a small indent in the mountain, behind a cluster of bushes, as the fighting raged on just on the other side.
“Can you press here firmly,” the boy asked, indicating his leg. “I’m going to bandage it up as best as I can for now.”
Lucas followed his directions, placing his hand on the injury, wincing when the pressure caused the pain to shoot through him once again. The boy rifled through his pockets, eventually pulling out a messily wrapped bandage. He started wrapping it around Lucas's leg, eventually allowing Lucas to remove his hands. But the pressure of the bandage and loss of blood was making him feel lightheaded, and black spots were beginning to cover his vision. Lucas shook his head, attempting to clear his vision, but it only made the spots worse.
And before he could stop himself, he was leaning his body towards the soldier, lacking the energy required to hold it up himself. He lay his head on the soldier’s shoulder, relaxing into his touch. The soldier ran a hand through Lucas's hair, holding him close, as the gunshots echoed from just beyond the bush, and the black spots filled every remaining inch of his vision. He could feel the slight shaking of the soldier’s body against his and could tell just how terrified he was. And soon enough, hardly able to keep his eyes open any longer, Lucas could see a faint dwindle of light through the leaves, as the sun rose upon the battlefield that Lucas knew was drenched in the blood and bodies from his fallen fellow soldiers. A battlefield drenched in pain and agony and despair, of the soldiers who would never again go home.
A cool sensation on his forehead and a hand lightly caressing his cheek. Lucas blinked his eyes open, slowly, to be faced with a blurry figure leaning over him. After a few moments his vision cleared, and he was faced with the familiar, concerned face of a soldier. The soldier’s expression relaxed after a moment, as Lucas opened his mouth to speak.
“Wha- what happened?” he asked, voice croaky and mouth dry from disuse. “Where are we?” He looked around slightly, seeing that he and the soldier were surrounded by dirt on all sides but one.
“You got shot in the leg, remember?” the soldier said; Lucas only now started to notice the dull ache in his thigh. “I saved you. If I didn't, you undoubtedly would have been shot again, and you wouldn’t have survived.”
As Lucas looked over the soldier’s face once again, he finally recognized the familiar features. The soldier who’d saved him. That’s right.
“We are in the trenches,” the soldier continued. “After you fainted, we just stayed in that little cave. It was much too dangerous to go back out, but eventually, a friend of mine found us and helped me get you up here when the gunfire had died down.”
Lucas nodded in understanding, all the information a little overwhelming. The soldier stroked his fingers over Lucas's cheek again, the light graze causing a warmth to rush to his cheeks.
“What- what’s your name?” Lucas asked. He could hear quiet chatter from outside of the dugout, where he was lying on the ground, head on the soldier’s lap. He could hear the nervousness in the voices, the panic, the fear of the unknown. He could hear it in the soldier’s voice when he spoke to him.
“Jungwoo. My name is Jungwoo.”
He could hear it in Jungwoo’s voice, and something in Lucas's heart hurt at the nervousness, hurt at the panic and hurt at the fear. Something in his heart wanted to protect Jungwoo, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he died.
“What is your name?” Jungwoo asked, readjusting the cloth on Lucas's forehead.
“Lucas,” he replied. “That’s my English name anyway. My real name is Yukhei.”
“Lucas,” Jungwoo murmured, “Yukhei-”
“Hey, is he awake yet?”
Lucas looked up towards the entrance of the dugout, to see a soldier peering in.
“Yeah, he woke up about five minutes ago,” Jungwoo replied. Lucas looked between the two for a moment, eyes eventually resting on the newcomer.
“I’m Mark,” the newcomer said, climbing into the small space and sitting down next to Jungwoo. This space probably wasn’t meant for more than two people, yet here they were, with three, squished in tightly together. “I helped Jungwoo bring you up here,” Mark continued. “It was too late to get you to the medical tent, and I doubt they would have been able to help you much down there. I heard there are only seven nurses at the moment, and they are already overwhelmed. And Jungwoo said he should be able to help you, as your injury isn’t too bad.”
“I have just started my second year in medical school,” Jungwoo said, adding onto what Mark had said and making eye contact with Lucas. “I’m still learning, but from what I can tell, it’s not too bad. I managed to get the bullet out as it wasn’t too deep, and you just need to keep it clean and bandaged for now. Speaking of that…” Jungwoo trailed off, looking down at Lucas's leg. “Mark, do you have any clean bandages?”
Lucas watched as Mark rifled through his pockets, before pulling out a bandage and handing it to Jungwoo. "I need to go check on some of the other guys," Mark said, scrambling to the entrance. "I'll come back and check on you later. Oh, and what was your name?" He asked, pointedly looking at Lucas.
"Lucas," he replied, forcing a slight smile. It was rather difficult when his leg was throbbing as badly as it was, but he did what he could.
"See you later, then," Mark said, disappearing around the corner and into the trench.
"Do you think you can sit up?" Jungwoo asked a moment later. Lucas turned back to him, nodding as best he could in the compromising position he was in. Lucas felt himself relax automatically, as Jungwoo placed an arm around his torso and helped lift him up so he was sitting, his injured leg over Jungwoo's lap.
Lucas involuntarily gulped as Jungwoo delicately unwrapped the bandage from his thigh. There was a large rip in his pants, and they were stained a deep, scarlet red. No amount of washing would get them back to their original colour.
And within a moment, Jungwoo was pulling the bloody red bandage away, revealing the raw, gaping wound. Lucas looked away quickly, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach, the cool breeze making the injury sting. His eyes eventually found Jungwoo, and he decided that watching him would be significantly more bearable. Jungwoo looked up then, eyes meeting Lucas's.
“I’m really sorry if this hurts,” he said quietly. “I can’t do much to help it at the moment, but you can squeeze my arm if you’d like.”
“Thanks,” Lucas said, gritting his teeth and holding tightly onto Jungwoo’s upper arm, as he wrapped the clean bandage around his leg.
“All done,” Jungwoo said, as he tied off the bandage, tucking the end into the many layers. “There’s not much else I can do for now, sorry. You’ll just have to keep it clean, and avoid moving it much.”
“Thank you,” Lucas whispered, as Jungwoo moved to sit by his side, drawing his legs in close. Their arms were touching, and Lucas couldn’t help but lean into the sensation, finding it comforting.
They sat there, in a comfortable silence for several minutes, watching as the occasional soldier walked past, and listening to the quiet chatter in the trenches. Lucas eventually leaned his head on Jungwoo’s shoulder, and Jungwoo reciprocated the action almost immediately, wrapping an arm around Lucas’s shoulders and pulling him close.
He’d barely known this man for a day, but Lucas already knew that once he could again, he’d do anything to protect him.
The last few stars were twinkling brightly, seemingly doing all they could to fight the oncoming dawn. Lucas’s rifle was cold in his hand, greatly contrasting the sweat dripping down his neck from the steadily warming early morning air. Jungwoo was by his side, breathing heavily; Lucas could tell just how nervous he was.
They were in the trenches now, awaiting the moment of attack. This was only the second battle Lucas could participate in since his leg had healed, and he was deathly nervous about how it would go. They had had the rundown on the plan hardly an hour ago, and he was doubting the practicality of it. It seemed much too risky. Every battle for the past few months, Lucas had been forced to stay back in the trenches and watch Jungwoo go out and risk his life. He’d been terrified, time and time again, that Jungwoo wouldn’t come back. But he always had. He’d always come back, relatively unharmed, and Lucas had sighed in relief every single time.
But this time, Lucas wasn’t so sure he’d come back. He had a bad feeling about this battle; he didn’t know that he’d be able to survive not having Jungwoo by his side. They had grown close over the past few months. Amazingly close. They’d spent every waking moment together, covered in dirt and awaiting the next battle. Mark had commented several times on how close they were, and every time, it had made Lucas’s heart race.
Jungwoo grabbed Lucas’s hand, linking their fingers together. “It’ll be okay Lucas,” Jungwoo whispered, breaking him out of his thoughts. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Don’t worry too much, kids,” a gruff looking older man said from Lucas’s other side. "This battle will be just like all the others. We run in, attack the Turks, a few of us die, a few of them die, then we come back here and everything is all dandy once again. Don’t worry about it too much.”
Lucas nodded, trying his best to send the man a smile, though he was sure it looked more like a grimace.
“We’ll be fine,” Jungwoo murmured once again, rubbing circles on the back of Lucas’s hand. “We’ll be o-”
Jungwoo was cut off by the sound of the first shell going off. And then the second. And the third and the fourth and the fifth. Lucas put his hands over his ears, the sound deafening. He could still hear it through his hands, and he could see the orange glow from above the parapet. He looked over to Jungwoo, finding him doing the same, and clearly wincing from the intensity of the sound.
And several minutes later, the sound was finally over. Lucas brought his hands down from his ears, instinctively finding Jungwoo’s hand again, and intertwining their fingers. Any moment now, they would receive the order and the first wave of men would run into no man's land, bayonets ready, and attack the Turks. The Turks would be unable to fight back, as they would have had no chance to prepare, after being bombed only moments ago. They would be in disarray, giving the Australian’s the upper hand. And then a couple of minutes later, the second wave would run in, and Lucas and Jungwoo would be on the battlefield.
But by now, the order should have been called. The first wave of men should be running onto the battlefield.
“What’s happening?” Lucas muttered. “Shouldn’t the order have been called by now?”
“It should have,” Jungwoo replied quietly. The men around them were also muttering to each other in confusion. Was the timing off? What had happened? Why weren't they calling the order?
“They were meant to go at four-thirty, were they not?” Jungwoo asked. “And it’s four-thirty now, isn’t it?”
“It’s… it’s four twenty-three,” the gruff man from earlier said, looking at his wristwatch. “They’re seven minutes off.”
Dread pooled in Lucas’s stomach at the revelation. “So are they going to go now, or wait for four-thirty? Because if they go at four-thirty, then the Turks will know what’s coming for them.”
“I’m not sure,” Jungwoo replied, squeezing Lucas’s hand. “But since they haven’t called it yet, they might be waiting for four-thirty. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
Lucas looked back up at the sky. The last few stars were almost gone, being taken away by the inescapable dawn. That would be them soon enough, if this didn’t go to plan.
The next seven minutes passed, mingled with confusion and steadily increasing fear. The pooling dread in Lucas’s stomach was sure to overflow soon, but Jungwoo’s hand in his helped keep it at bay.
And finally, finally, the order was called. The first wave of men crouched on the edge of the trench, bayonets in hand, ready to climb over, the second wave standing just behind them. And then they were off, scrambling up and over and out of sight. Within moments, Lucas could hear gunfire, the sound ringing in his ears. The Turks weren’t meant to be fighting this battle with guns. And Lucas was terrified.
“Lucas,” Jungwoo said, his hand finding Lucas’s cheek and turning Lucas to face him. He was shaking, his hand clammy on Lucas’s cheek. “If we don’t make it out of this one alive, just know-” he stopped, taking a shaky breath as Lucas nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue. “I just want you to know that I love you, okay? I really love you.”
Lucas’s heart was racing as he reached up to wipe away the tear that had slipped down Jungwoo’s cheek. “I love you too, Jungwoo,” he murmured, pulling Jungwoo into a tight hug. He could hear Jungwoo’s rapid breathing in his shoulder, clearly trying his best not to cry. And then Jungwoo pulled away, glanced around quickly, and apparently deeming it safe, pressed his lips to Lucas’s. And Lucas didn’t want him to pull away, he wanted to stay in this moment forever, but then someone was tapping his shoulder and then Jungwoo’s lips were gone, and the moment was gone and Lucas was terrified he would never get to experience it again.
“Hey, kids, it’s almost time for us to go out,” the gruff soldier said, a fond look in his eyes as he looked at how Lucas and Jungwoo’s hands were joined. “And be careful doing that sort of thing in public,” he muttered, quieter now. “A lot of people don’t support… well… our type of people, I suppose.”
Lucas nodded, confused at what the man was getting at, but acknowledging what he had said anyway. And then his mind caught up. Jungwoo had kissed him, in public, and they were both boys. Anyone could have seen it, and something terrible could have happened if the wrong person had. Lucas gulped, looking towards Jungwoo, who was smiling at him, despite his tear-stained face.
“I love you, okay? Don’t forget that while we’re out there,” Jungwoo said, and Lucas smiled back, heart-racing and face all red, as he picked up his abandoned bayonet and crouched beside Jungwoo at the edge of the trench. And then the order was called, and they were scrambling up the sandy, uneven ground, and onto a sea of bodies, blood and gunfire.
“Jungwoo!”
His heart was racing and his voice was shaky, adrenaline coursing through him like a river.
“Jungwoo!”
Bloodied and bruised soldiers were all around him, running in every which way in the increasing darkness. The battle had ended several hours ago, with almost every Australian being taken out in some way by the Turkish gunfire. A few had managed to crawl their way back into the trenches, Lucas among them, covered in blood and dirt. The rest were either lying in disarray on dirt in no man's land and being cooked alive by the sun or dead. And Lucas couldn’t find Jungwoo.
The first shots had fired and they’d been running towards the Turkish trenches, and Jungwoo was there one moment and gone the next.
“Kid, you need to get to the medical tent,” a voice said from beside him. A soldier with a medical band on his arm had a hand on his shoulder and had pulled him aside. “You’re going to bleed out.”
“I can’t,” Lucas said, voice shaky, tears pooling in his eyes and his throat going tight. “I need to find Jungwoo.”
“You need to get to the medical tent before you bleed out,” the soldier retorted. “If Jungwoo’s alive, he’ll probably already be there. If he’s not, he’ll be there within the hour. We’re taking as many of the living there as possible right now .”
“But-”
“Come on,” the soldier said. “I’ll take you to the medical tent, get you all fixed up, and help you find Jungwoo. Okay?”
Lucas nodded, unable to do anything else, as he let the soldier grab him by the arm and lead him through the maze of trenches and eventually to the medical tent. The journey there was a blur to him, the adrenaline fading off as he now noticed the immense pain in both his leg and arm.
They entered, and suddenly the soldier’s grip on his arm was gone and he was being jostled around, and then he was sitting on a small box to the side, a nurse in front of him bandaging up his leg. And then she was gone without a word, and Lucas was left to himself to watch Hell unfold before his eyes.
Soldiers were lying on stretchers in rows on the ground, groaning in pain as the very small group of nurses darted around, doing anything they could to help. Some were missing arms or legs, blood pooling around them, while others had a hole or two in their side.
And then it really was like Hell to Lucas, as the tent doors were pushed aside and another stretcher was carried in and placed at the end of a row. Lucas recognized the man on the stretcher instantly, despite him being as covered as he was in blood and dirt. He rushed towards the stretcher, a desperate sob making its way out of his throat as he fell to the ground beside Jungwoo.
“Lucas?” Jungwoo croaked out, blinking up at him. He reached up slowly, the movement clearly paining him, and cupped Lucas’s cheek, gently wiping away the tears with his thumb. “Are you okay?”
“I’m the one who should be asking that,” Lucas choked out. “You have a hole in your side.” As the realisation finally started to sink in, Lucas couldn’t help the gush of tears. “You- you promised. You promised we’d be okay. You promised but you’re not okay.”
Sobs racked his body, as Jungwoo pulled Lucas down into an awkward hug. “I’ll be okay. The nurses know what they’re doing.”
“But-” Lucas started, pulling away ever so slightly. His tears were leaving trails in the dirt on Jungwoo’s face. “But-”
“I’ll be okay, Lucas,” Jungwoo said, pressing a finger to Lucas’s lips. His voice was getting quieter now, more hoarse. He pulled Lucas’s back down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I promise,” Jungwoo whispered, voice barely audible, as his hand fell away from Lucas’s face and onto his chest, just over his heart.
“No,” Lucas whispered. “No, you can’t go. You can’t leave.” His throat and chest were growing tight and it was getting hard to breathe. “You can’t,” he choked out, voice cracking as sobs overtook him. Someone came up beside him, but he was in too much pain and despair to pay any attention to who it was. His vision was blurred and his hands were trembling as they held for dear life onto Jungwoo’s. Arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him up to his feet, away from Jungwoo. Lucas struggled, but to no avail, as a nurse crouched down where he had been, fingers on Jungwoo’s neck.
And then Lucas was being pulled away. Away from Jungwoo and outside. He was sat on a rock, body shaking, as the man, Mark of all people, Lucas now noticed, crouched down in front of him. But as Lucas looked away from Mark and to the night sky, tears still streaming down his face, he was met with a single glinting star disappearing behind the cloud cover. Just like Jungwoo left him.