Doveland Page 5

  “Are we losing the war, Clovis?”

  “We’re going to help win the war, you’ll see.”

  Because some of the troops were moving away from camp under cover of darkness, Clovis and Homer discussed the necessity for keeping vigil at night. Clovis would stand guard the first half of the night.

  CHAPTER 7

  The British and French armies were forced to retreat once again deeper into France. For several days, the withdrawals continued as far south as the Marne River. Instead of retreating again, the allies fought oppressively instead of defensively, and pushed the troops of the central powers back as far north as the Aisne River. To firmly hold their position, Germany’s armies began to build trenches. Likewise, the allied troops began to build trenches to halt any further invasion. This action would mark a turning point in The Great War that would begin a new kind of warfare ~ stalemate.

  After building their new homes, Clovis and Homer watched the soldiers form the trenches, each dug several feet deep, with duckboards placed at the bottom. The trenches were shaped in zigzag form to avoid total bombardment. Along the top of the trenches were endless rolls of barbed wire to halt intruders, open at certain intervals for the allied troops to exit. Separate trenches along the sidelines were reserved for the grenadier guards.

  The troops had followed their leaders off to war waving their banners of glory, with promises that the war would end by Christmas. But life in the trenches would tell a different story.

  The next morning, they flew to the sidelines and found a good place for their lookout. Machine guns rattled incessantly, as one of the grenadiers went over the top, throwing hand grenades across no man’s land to clear the way for his rifle-bearing comrades. A whistleblower stood at the end of the trench line. On the third whistle, he ordered the Tommies over the top to halt the oncoming enemy.

  “Get them before they come and get you!” he commanded over and over. Clovis wondered why the soldiers were forced to leave the safety of the trenches.

  “Why can’t the allied soldiers fight from the trenches, instead of going over the top?”

  “Don’t know, looks like some kind of game to me,” replied Homer.

  In the beginning, the troops were full of patriotic spirit as they ran over the top like a storm that hits with its mighty force to conquer all who challenges its inevitable wrath, but most of them would never return. The trench lines had produced a deadly gauntlet that would become known as no man’s land ~ the battlefield between the guns of the allies, and the guns of the central powers. Sometimes the wounded were able to crawl to safety in newly shelled holes where they waited for rescue by the medics.

  Clovis and Homer liked watching the grenadier. Running over the top, he stopped short, leaned back with one arm forward, pulled the magic pin and threw the grenade far out into no man’s land. Homer watched with anticipation as each grenade exploded on impact.

  “Boom!” he yelled each time.

  As the trees near the sidelines were destroyed by heavy gun artillery, Clovis and Homer were forced to move further into the forest.

  When gunfire decreased on the battlefield, some of the soldiers would take a short break from the front lines. One day Clovis and Homer followed the grenadier to a quiet location in the woods. To their surprise, he sat beneath a tree and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. He began to silently read a letter from home. His eyes clouded with tears that soon streamed down his face. He squeezed the letter tightly against his chest, and began to cry aloud, as though he would never see his family again.

  “What’s this bloody war about, anyway?” he couldn’t help but wonder aloud.

  After a few moments, he composed himself as he acknowledged the presence of two wild birds standing before him with sooty beaks and grimy feathers. Their tame approach reminded him of the roaming pigeons back home, and he compassionately pulled out a crumbling piece of bread from his pocket. His spirit was lifted with the essence of freedom given to birds living in the wild.

  “Here, my feathered friends,” throwing the crumbs on the ground before them. It was the first time they had seen him smile.

  “Tur-rr,” responded Clovis, and Homer followed with a short whistle.

  While they were feasting on the delicious crumbs, the grenadier was summoned back to his post.

  “Well, cheerio!”

  “Yum, yum,” exclaimed Homer. “When the war is over, I am going into the big city and beg for bread crumbs all day.”

  “Yes, Homer, when the war is over,” said Clovis as he watched the grenadier return to his post on the battlefield.

  Germany had led its strongest units to invade France, using passage through Belgium, as the British second division continued to defend its position against the enemy. As casualties increased, new recruits arrived daily from Great Britain proudly displaying their flag exhibiting the same patriotic spirit as the troops before them.

  Gunfire decreased on both sides to handle another enemy – inclement weather. With heavy downpours, the troops used every means, including their helmets, to scoop the water out of the trenches. The narrow furrows formed between the trench lines for drainage were overflowing.

  The weather began to turn cool. One night, a blast of cold air swept across Clovis’ nest. His night shift would end soon and he flew down and snuggled into Homer’s warm nest inside a low-lying shrub. Homer was asleep under a large dried up oak leaf, which Clovis pulled over himself to keep warm. Homer stirred a bit and pulled the leaf back, thinking it was a gust of wind. Clovis tugged at the leaf, which awakened Homer. Back and forth they pulled the leaf between them until Homer stood up.

  “I don’t mind sharing my nest with you, Clovis, but quit taking my warm cover!”

  “It’s your turn to keep watch!”

  “Does the guard on duty have to leave his post?” argued Homer.

  “Yes!”

  “That’s it, get out!”

  “You’re a selfish grouse, Homer. Get out there and do your duty!”

  “You want me to crush that little head of yours?”

  As they began to wrestle, a strong gust of wind imploded the underbrush around them, and they found themselves in the open cold air. Realizing that pressure of the war was putting a strain on their friendship, they shared shelter in another shrub where they both rested until daybreak.

  “We’re supposed to be patriots, Homer.”

  “It’s just that for the first time, I really spent a lot of time making a real nest, and then here you come to spoil it.”

  “I’m sorry, Homer.”

  “Me, too.”

  “What are you going to do after the war?” asked Homer

  “I want to return to Belgium. What about you?”

  “I hope someday to have a son as brave as you, Clovis.”

  “I’m not brave.”

  “Well, Clovis, I was too big of a coward to tell you, but remember when Fantail asked us to join his flock?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I wanted to join them instead of staying in Belgium.”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  “Because I knew you would stay.”

  “That was a brave decision, wasn’t it Homer?”

  “But, I don’t feel so brave.”

  “Neither do I.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The sting of winter entered no man’s land and the Tommies draped their sleeping blankets over their thick woolen tunics to keep warm. A cold wet drizzle fell over the battlefield as sounds of gunfire decreased in no man’s land. Both sides huddled inside trenches to avoid the bitter cold winds.

  While Clovis and Homer were foraging in the woods that day, they found a new home in a hollow tree with a big round open notch. High above the deep snow, they claimed it for their shelter for the winter. They lined their new home with warm layers of foliage. Homer urged Clovis to help him gather all the seed leaves they could find and place them inside their new home.

  Later that day, they return
ed to the sidelines to find the intensity of warfare gradually decreasing once again. Both sides of the battlefield huddled deep inside the trenches to shield themselves as the bitter cold winds continued. Clovis and Homer returned to their warm home.

  In celebration of Christmas, an unofficial cease-fire began during the day on December 24. As the artillery smoke dissipated, the medic teams from both sides began removing their wounded to the sidelines.

  When all was quiet, the truce began, and soldiers began singing Silent Night, Holy Night. The tune could be heard up and down the trenches throughout no man’s land. That evening, Clovis and Homer flew down to the trench lines where the grenadier and three of his comrades were making a small clearing in the snow to erect a makeshift tent. Large pieces of wood gathered from the forest were buried in the ground to support the tent covered with blankets. A branch from an evergreen was propped up inside the tent and decorated as a Christmas tree. They decorated the little branches as they sang Christmas songs.

  They decorated the top with a candle for light. In the spirit of the holiday, trinkets such as key chains, watches, and photographs of their families were hung on the branches. Some removed holiday cards from their haversacks and placed them at the foot of the little Christmas tree.

  As four soldiers gathered inside, Clovis and Homer approached the door.

  “Meet my feathered friends,” smiled the grenadier, as he pulled a small piece of bread from his pocket and crumbled it on the ground. He rejoined his friends as they huddled in a circle for a game of cards. Clovis and Homer ate the pieces of bread and began to watch the game with great interest.

  Before the game began, another comrade appeared in the entrance and handed the grenadier a bottle of spirits.

  “Cheers!” the soldier said in passing, indicating he had lifted the bottles from one of the German supply trucks. He bid them Merry Christmas. The grenadier took the time to remove the top on the bottle, and spoke in a solemn tone.

  “Well, my friends, we were told the war would be over by Christmas, and that didn’t happen.”

  “I didn’t believe it anyway,” said another.

  Clovis and Homer looked at each other with great disappointment.

  “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, my friends!” said the grenadier, filling their mugs. “Here’s to an end to this bloody war!” They toasted one another.

  The soldiers gathered in a circle, and began placing their bets. Items such as combs, coins, keys, and pencils. The game continued as Clovis stood by the grenadier and watched him play his hand, while Homer watched from the other side.

  As the night went on, the soldiers fell asleep one by one. Clovis and Homer decided to have some fun. They took two cards each, mimicking the soldiers.

  “Ante up, Homer.”

  Clovis pushed a comb toward Homer, and Homer flipped over one of his cards. Homer pushed a shiny coin toward Clovis, and Clovis turned over one of his cards. As the bets continued, Clovis declared a win with one ace and a six. But, Homer said he won with the king and queen.

  “You’re a sore loser, my friend.”

  “I don’t know, Clovis, these look like important people to me!”

  Homer became distracted by the liquid left in the bottom of a mug clutched in the hand of a sleeping soldier. He slowly sipped the bitter liquid.

  “Yuck! But it sure feels warm.” he said as he sipped a little more.

  Then Clovis sipped some of the liquid in another cup which made his feathers ruffle.

  “Bitter,” he said, pausing between sips.

  “You’re right, it feels warm.” Homer looked around the tent at the sleeping soldiers.

  “Do you think they will be okay?”

  The last candle burned out, and Clovis and Homer, feeling a bit more confident about the inclement weather, set out into the cold night to find some carefree adventure. The small irrigation furrow was frozen all the way across the battlefield, and they took advantage of the holiday. The trail seemed endless as they skated down its narrow path, occasionally playing leapfrog. Then, with wings entwined, they skated joyfully into the snowy night. They were so drunk, they did not know where they were, and did not feel the cold brisk air. Around midnight, they became separated.

  The next morning, Clovis was awakened by a barking dog. Each bark was followed by a faint call for help. Clovis found himself in an abandoned squirrel’s nest with his wings hanging over the side. Clovis recognized Homer’s voice. He flew closer to investigate. Homer had landed in a thicket upside down, and was being held at bay by a stray Belgian sheepdog.

  “Get me out of here!” he yelled.

  Clovis distracted the dog by flying close to the ground until he led him far enough away; then returned to rescue his friend.

  “Did you get rid of that loud yapper?”

  “Don’t worry about him anymore, Homer. How am I going to get you out of here?”

  Homer slipped further down as Clovis loosened the twigs.

  “Ouch!”

  Clovis pulled twigs from one area until there was an opening. Homer finally began to slide out. The ground began to rumble.

  “What’s that noise?” asked Homer.

  Clovis turned to see enemy tanks out on maneuver rolling toward them. Homer felt doomed.

  “It’s the mashers, isn’t it?”

  “Well. . .”

  “Get me out of here, hurry!”

  The ground began to shake as the tanks rolled closer, and Homer finally broke free. As they leaped away, the tank crushed the underbrush. They perched in a tree overlooking the near disaster.

  “Where have you been all night, Clovis?”

  “How long have you been stuck in the thicket, Homer?”

  “I don’t know”

  “Same answer.”

  Homer began to preen his plumage.

  “Why are your eyes bulging?”

  “Your eyes would be bulging too if you were upside down all night.”

  “What happened last night anyway?”

  “Don’t know,” shrugged Homer. “But we’ll never win the war if the allies keep drinking that skunk water!”

  Aware that they were in enemy territory, Clovis and Homer returned to their perch on the sidelines for the remainder of Christmas day, and watched the troops play football.

  The next morning, Clovis and Homer returned to the sidelines to find total silence in no man’s land. Homer looked back and forth between the trench lines.

  “Do you think the war is over?”

  “Don’t know.”

  They waited and watched until the middle of the morning when a German field marshal stood on the parapet of the enemy’s trench line and waved a white flag. Across the battlefield, the allies responded by raising a white flag. Then, the German field marshal fired three gunshots into the air, thus ending the holiday cease-fire. Ground warfare resumed once again in no man’s land.

  CHAPTER 9

  The French army had offered the British army several carrier pigeons for use in the field with the onset of the war. However, the British army preferred to rely on modern technology. There would be many reports of interception by the enemy with the use of telegraph and wireless transmitters. Telephone equipment proved too heavy to carry through the muddy terrain. By the Spring of 1915, the British Royal Engineers Signal Service supplied their units with truck lofts of carrier pigeons. When all else failed, pigeon post would become indispensable.

  One day, Homer alerted Clovis that he saw an allied carrier pigeon go down on the battlefield. They flew to the rescue. The carrier was spinning on the ground, sort of disoriented. There was blood on her neck.

  “Are you okay?” asked Homer.

  The carrier rose to her feet.

  “I’m okay, the missile just grazed me.”

  “What’s your name?” asked Clovis.

  “BEF206,” she replied as she proudly raised her left wing to show off the tiny numbers embedded into her feathers. “You can call me Somerset.”

 
“Where are you going?” they inquired.

  “Field headquarters,” she replied. “Who are you?”

  Clovis and Homer identified themselves as birds living in the wild who saw her go down.

  “Thanks for coming to my rescue, but if I don’t get back to work, they will send another carrier.”

  “Good luck, Somerset!”

  They watched until she disappeared over the tree line.

  “It’s good to see an allied carrier for a change.” said Clovis.

  Because of previous breakdown in communication, the central powers began to employ other means of delivering messages, which included motor bikes. Eventually, they proved unsuccessful, not only because of the bumpy terrain, but there were reports that wild birds had been seen pecking at the riders’ helmets, causing vehicles to overturn. For Clovis and Homer, it was business as usual.

  One afternoon, they were returning to the sidelines when they spotted a bird lying in the mud on the forest floor. Taking a closer look, they couldn’t identify any characteristics except a wing with the bloody numbers BEF206. It was evident that Somerset had been attacked and pecked to death. Homer became angry.

  “What a horrible way to die, Clovis.”

  “Plain murder.”

  “They didn’t have to kill her.”

  They dug a small hole to place her remains.

  “If we had known she was in danger, we would have guarded her.” lamented Clovis. “From now on, it will be our duty to protect all allied carrier pigeons so that they can safely deliver their messages.”

  Homer agreed. The death of Somerset came as a warning to Clovis and Homer, because it was a direct consequence of their ongoing exploits which ultimately had mobilized a war among the birds.

  The next day, another allied carrier pigeon was liberated. As he flew over the deep woods toward allied headquarters, the patriots secretly followed him to insure his safety. As the allied carrier flew out into the open sky, two enemy carrier pigeons leaped out of the forest on his trail.