Tale of the Week 288: After the Battle - Winner's Circle

**Turkafinwë** · February 07, 2019, 11:17 AM

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After the Battle

- Marquess of Granby relieving a sick soldier, Edward Penny, 1765, source

Again we were blessed with many a tale in this Week's Competition! Battered and beaten King Athelstan's story, telling the thoughts of a soldier who lies dying on the field of battle, emerged victorious. King Athelstan takes us through the horrors of the immediate aftermath of the battle, with the wounded soldiers being left behind by their retreating comrades. For his tale of woe, King Athelstan receives one Writers' Study Competition Point, bringing his total up to 3. Congratulations to our winner, King Athelstan!

If you haven't read this moving tale yet, you can catch King Athelstan's winning entry below:

TotW 288: After the Battle - WINNING SUBMISSION Thirsty. So thirsty. So very thirsty. His lips were cracked, his face full of dirt. His ears were ringing, and he laid there upon the mountain. At last he opened his eyes, and he was met by blinding light. Lowering his gaze, one hundred meters down below he saw the weak defenses and freshly dug trenches, where his countrymen had fled to. They would not hold for long. Soon, the trumpets would blast, the whistles blow and the bullets come raining again. Soon the air would carry the screams in a language he did not know towards him, filled with dread, hate, fury and fright. This was no mans war. He tried to stand up, but couldn't. His mind willed it, but his body wouldn't, couldn't budge. He tried to move his toes. And felt nothing.

He looked down, and saw nothing. His legs were gone, bloody stumps remaining. He shouted, but no sound came. Just a slight whimper. He was as good as dead. Looking up, he saw the sun about to set. Sighing, he closed his eyes. Then, his head stopped ringing and sound came to him as hell had come to earth. The ships off the shore were firing their massive cannons, the mortars on the shore were firing in high arcs above the trenches, and the machine gun nests bore fire down from the hills. No side would be victorious. He felt a large blast beside him, and closed his eyes.

He opened them, and the sun had set. Thirsty. So thirsty. So very thirsty. His tongue had swelled in his mouth, yet he felt oddly at peace. He looked down towards the shore. The lanterns were lit, but it was quiet. He was sure his hearing was back, yet it was quiet. He searched through the lines of his foes, but saw nothing. No people, no movement. Wait! The ships had come closer to shore, and a steady line of small boats flowed between. So this was it. They were finally leaving this hole. Without him. The mortars and supplies were left for the enemy to loot. He tried to call out for help, but no sound came.

He watched the last ship depart into the distance. A tear ran through the dirt on cheeks. His body was lying still. He closed his eyes.

Our gratitude goes to all who entered by submitting a tale as well to the voters who elected a winner! Many thanks from WS Staff!

TotW 288: Submission thread | Voting thread

Those whose lust for battle has not yet been satisfied can enter the fray in the next Tale of the Week 289: Behemoth.

**The Wandering Storyteller** · February 07, 2019, 01:57 PM

Congrats!

**King Athelstan** · February 07, 2019, 03:52 PM

Thank you very much! - To put this story into context, look at the Gallipoli offensive during the First World war, it was in the back of my head while writing this