Scorched Earth

A Canadian soldier gets captured by French Soldiers and has to get past language barriers, plus his own personnal hatred in order to survive the war.

Blood and dirt covered my face as violent airstrikes pounded my home. I took a few moments to try and control my chaotic breathing. It didn't help. Damn, I was foolish to think that I could make a difference. All I am is part of the herd, destined to charge into a line of cannons so the experienced can take on less losses. 

Glass fell onto my vest and neck from a damaged window behind me. Must be stray gunfire. I slowly moved to brush the glass of, only to dig a sharp piece into my neck. Groaning, I tried to brush it of more carefully. Succeeding, I continued to wallow in my depression, punishing myself for losing my squad. I wonder what's going on now. I sat up to a crouch, turned around and stared out the broken window. Jets flew over the city, bombing everything. In the sky, random flashes of light broke out from the dogfights. Black smoke drifted up to even my height at forty-nine stories. A door screeched somewhere's behind me. I snuck underneath a desk disguised by the dark and waited. Multiple footsteps quietly- but, not soundlessly- hit the floor. The footsteps ceased and two voices whispered in hushed tones. Holding my breath, I aimed down my sight at the only entrance to my little office, a clear door. The door opened. A pop can rolled inside. I smiled French got a funny sense of humour. The pop can exploded into a blinding white light. The room vibrated with a loud bang, shattering the windows. Surprised, I let go of my gun, blinking rapidly. The desk flew away, leaving me in the open. Mumbled shouting became somewhat discernable to my ringing ears. A hand grabbed my chest, lifted me up and threw my body into a wall. My vision cleared- two French men stared at me through dark Iron sights, screaming something un-discernable. They got me. My mouth opened as I raised my hands to the ceiling "Uhh, no Francai! No Francai! English?"

The wall exploded inches from my head as a bullet impacted. "Wait-wait, I'm a prisoner of war under the Geniva treaty!! I'm a prisoner!" To drive that home, my finger pointed at my chest, then my wrists struck together as if bound.

"Prisonnier de guerre?"

Swallowing, I lowered my voice "Prisonnier", I raped my wrists together again. 

One of the French men, a shorter man said "We", nodding up and down.

The other french man stepped forwards. He- no, she kneeled down as a flash from the sky temporarily illuminated her face. She dug through her pockets and tossed a long zip tie at my chest. I tightened it around my wrists. Slowly, I asked "You... uh, Vou duh, only?" 

She looked at me like I'm an absolute moron. Okay, maybe I didn't try hard in my French classes, I accept that. But what were the chances that my life would depend on knowing how to speak a language that no one in BC spoke?! 

The French woman turned a flashlight on her gun on. Her companion asked something, which she hissed back a counter to. Something set her of- she grabbed her gun of the floor and yelled. I made myself small against the wall- I couldn't see her anymore, but the frenchman had his finger on the trigger. Get your finger of the trigger! 

The wall exploded with a roar. 

The End

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