Trench warfare was a war of attrition and in order to make a successful
push it was necessary to think things through before hand. All the
preparations must be made and the timing must be precise. Looking at
the map, we coordinated a plan of action.
"WHEEEEEEERRRREEEEEE is the best place to attack?" the lieutenant, named Greg, first inquired.
"I would say the northern section. It's cloooooooooser to Britain and
easier to attack," another lieutenant ventured. Everyone seemed to
agree, so I just nodded my head.
"GOOOD good...It will probably
best to attack at night when they least expect it. But first bombard
their positions with artillery to soften them up. Since this is a
pretty big invasion, I'd say five days of pummeling will be good. All
agree?" A few seconds of silence confirmed our agreement. "OKAY set the
date to be November 2, 1917." We dismissed and that was that. We pushed
forward past France and to Germany. It seemed as if the Germans had
lost all motivation. We received word that the German command was
experiencing confusion and disarray. Before I knew it, the war was over
and I had survived. It was November, 1918. I thought I'd return to a
peaceful life and maybe do something exciting with my life. Maybe I'll
find Tom again or look back into a job selling bonds. If anything, WWI
taught me that life doesn't last forever and that life should be lived
to the fullest. I contacted Tom who was actually married to my second
cousin and I moved into West Egg,
New York as a bond salesman.
