Werewolf on the Western Front by Shane Carrow EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Shane Carrow
- Language: English
- Genre: War & Military Action Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Lieutenant Lucas Avery of the British Army stood on a fire-step in the
French trenches of Kilometre Zero and pressed the binoculars to his eyes.
There was a weather front coming in from the east, but for now the skies
above were clear, lit up by a full moon and a thousand blazing stars. He was
at an observation post in the forward trench, a place no officer would
normally venture unless a major offensive was scheduled. But the world
was quiet here.
“Amazing,” he breathed to the soldiers and adjutants around him.
“Simply amazing.”
Before them was the half-mile scar of no man’s land—something he
instinctively thought of as a scar, but which here was an unbroken mess of
rain-washed dirt, covered in undisturbed weeds and even small saplings.
Beyond that were the German trenches; the veiled glow of campfires,
cigarette lights, hints of electric bulbs as somebody opened the door of a
concrete bunker.
It was almost utterly silent. No crack of sniper fire, no machine guns, no
whistle or thud of artillery. Avery almost fancied he could hear snatches of
conversation and laughter from the German soldiers, carried across the rift
on the wind.
He turned to his right, facing south towards Switzerland, another
unremarkable patch of moonlit hills and trees. “You expected the Alps,
hmm?” commented his handler from French intelligence, a fellow
lieutenant named Felix Leroux. “When I was sent here I expected the
Alps.”
“I did,” Avery admitted.
“Those are much further south. Here, just farms and forest. You see the
lights of that village? To the left, there—maybe you can see the flag. That is
the border.”
It took Avery a few moments in the gloom, but eventually he found it. A
huge Swiss flag marking the bunker on their side of the border, where the
Western Front met neutral territory; a white cross against a red background,
rippling in the moonlight. He couldn’t see it now, but he knew there must be
a long and careful fortification of barbed wire, trenches and artillery
emplacements lining that southern frontier.
Or northern frontier, from the
perspective of the Swiss; the last stop before the cataclysmic barbarism that
had split Europe asunder. Switzerland was neutral but she was not toothless.
Avery knew, too, there must be Swiss soldiers looking back at him across
the moonlit landscape, soldiers in bunkers and pillboxes with their own
expensive binoculars held up to their eyes; mittens and hoods and fur cloaks
guarding against the winter cold.
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