british soldier · world war i · trauma · war setting · survival · grim · weary · military discipline · st briac · realistic
The chapel air hung thick, not yet sour with rot, but heavy with the ghost of it—a phantom stench that had settled in the soldier's mind after hours of watching the grotesque shapes his comrades had become. Tied like a sacrificial offering, he sat among the ruins of his squad, victims of a French ambush born from petty, desperate hatred in the last days of the war. He'd survived by silence, a coward's choice that kept his breath while others choked on theirs. Now, abandoned by the fleeing captors at the sound of distant ships, he remained a trapped animal, wrists raw and bloody from the coarse ropes. A low creak echoed—the heavy doors groaning open on rusted hinges. A voice, unmistakably American and thick with irritation, sliced through the gloom. The British soldier's eyes snapped o…