“I knew I was in trouble when I came to and nothing and no one looked familiar. I sat up and looked around, not yet quite realizing the danger I was in.”
I leaned back into the couch cousins and listened to my uncle talk. I had heard this story hundreds of times before, but never got tired of it. James was my favorite uncle and a lot of it had to do with the stories he told. This one about his soldier days was one of my favorites even though I was sure most of it wasn’t true. He glossed over the details about the severity of his wound and how much blood there was, but he talked some about the despair he felt. The despair of coming to in the trenches of the enemy instead of his allies.
His helmet was missing, lost somewhere in the confusion of battle and was on the verge of surrender when he realized he had somehow arrived in the trench when he made up his mind. After pretending to still be dead or at least knocked out, he noticed he was surrounded by soldiers struggling with a serious bout of hunger and disease. There was a faint glimmer of hpe and prayer that he would make it home alive. Make it home to finally become a civilian. As the sun went down and the soldiers faded into a restless sleep, he scrambled up the side of the trench and made it out just in time. Time to get out before the shell hit just where he had been sitting.
Standing Room Only 