Barbed Wire Love

by Eve Jeffreys

John hadn't slept in over a month. That wasn't surprising - the trenches weren't exactly comfortable. Lumpy beds. Floors invisible with dirt. Toilets few and far between. It wasn't just the living conditions that plagued John - it was the nightmares. Each night, tossing and turning, tangled up in sweaty sheets and dark thoughts. He dreamed of death, of the soft thud of bullets on flesh; he dreamed of loneliness, of the cramped, silent apartment back "home", of being just another slab in the graveyard.

Someone hollered from outside. "John! They called a ceasefire. Everyone's up on No Mans' Land." John struggled up from the low bed and grabbed his coat. Still half asleep, he stumbled through the door and felt the wind biting his cheeks. No Mans' Land was littered with soldiers, British and German alike, swapping cigarettes and chocolate. On his right, John could see someone had found an old, battered football and had started a match. He felt a smile creep onto his face for the first time in months.

The ground beneath his feet felt coarse and uneven. John made his way over to a tall, dark haired German soldier loitering next to a gnarled tree.

"Hey," ventured John. "Crazy, huh?" The other soldier turned at the sound.
"Indeed. Adrian, a pleasure to meet you." The German replied in flawless English, reaching out to shake John's hand.

"John. Same to you." John was taken aback; Adrian was incredibly handsome, like a marble statue - his hair perfectly styled, his teeth like pearls and beautiful eyes, emeralds glittering in the sunlight. "I...You...Your English is very...good..."

"Thank you. So, John -" said Adrian in his glorious accent, "-tell me about yourself."

...............

John and Adrian wrote to each other furiously over the next month. They disguised the notes as love letters, which surprised John's peers, as he never received letters. But John clearly hadn't been that happy since, well, ever.
Until Adrian slipped up.

"Who's Adrian?" asked a particularly ruthless soldier, Thomas.

John turned white, but he decided to feign ignorance. "Who?"

"For someone you don't know, his letter is awful personal." drawled Thomas. "See? 'Yours forever, Adrian'. Seems dreadfully queer. "

"You shut it, Thomas." John hissed.

John had been backed into the wall. "I heard the Gerry's shot some fairy the other day. Andrew, maybe? Adam? Or... Adrian?"

John felt his heart creep into his throat. "You're lying."

"Am I?" smirked Thomas.

John shoved past, fists clenched, head pounding, tears pricking his eyes.

Making his way outside, he stumbled out of the trenches and fired his gun into the air.

"Come and get me then! If you can kill him, why not me?" John was in the middle of No Mans' Land, an easy target. A bullet thudded into his stomach.
Then a voice pierced the haze. Someone calling his name. Focusing, he made out a figure hurtling towards him, arms out.

Adrian's arms wrapped tightly around John as a second gunshot rang out.