1917 Monologues

April 6th, 1917. As an infantry battalion assembles to wage war deep in enemy territory, two soldiers are assigned to race against time and deliver a message that will stop 1,600 men from walking straight into a deadly trap.

Shut up. We've fought and died over every inch of this fucking place, now they suddenly give us miles? It's a trap.

But, chin up. There's a medal in it for sure. Nothing like a scrap of ribbon to cheer up a widow.

Straight ahead to the left, past the dead horses, there's a gap directly behind them. Useful, because if its dark you follow the stench. When you get to the second wire, look out for the bowing chap. There's a small break beside him. The German line is 150 odd yards after that. Watch out for the craters. They're deeper than they look. If you fall in, there's no getting out.

No. The sub-trench was blown to hell weeks ago. Its full of bodies anyway. Your best bet is to pop over here. If you do get shot, try to make it back to the wire. We won't come after you until its dark. If by some fucking miracle you do make it, send up a flare.

Are they out of their fucking minds? One slow night, the Bosch and the Hun have just gone home?

We lost an officer and three men, two nights ago. They were shot to bits patching up wire. We dragged two of them back here.

I do hate losing these to the Hun, so when they start shooting at you, could you be so kind as to throw it back when you get shot.