More Than Just A Life

Within minutes it was driving snow. To make matters worse the partly made road he had kept to now moved into more open countryside with no hedges to protect him. The wind and snow continued to drive across the flat, featureless landscape. He had very little to keep him warm. He had decided to wear the overalls he had picked up from the farmhouse over the top of his uniform and was glad he did. His head was exposed and was absolutely numb and it felt really tight across the wound. He walked for hours and the snow gradually turned to sleet then rain and then stopped altogether. The sky cleared from the West and the moon shone brightly for the first time for days. The trouble was it made everything freeze, in no time at all the landscape was white from the frost. He started to run and wave his arms just to keep warm. His stomach ached from the lack of food and at times he felt very light headed and nauseous. He was now on a proper road and the visibility was much better, so much so that he could see a house about a half-mile away. He stopped and sat on a fallen branch by the side of the road, he felt utterly exhausted. He looked down the road at the house and thought perhaps this time he could get some food. The next thing he knew he was laying on his back staring up at the moon. His head was spinning and he felt extremely cold yet he was sweating underneath. His overalls felt solid, as the icy wind had frozen the wet cloth. He assumed he must have passed out. He felt dreadful. He got to his feet but tottered around as everything around him was spinning. He sat down again on the branch and put his head between his knees but could not stop his head from spinning. He felt faint and twice he had retched but nothing came up. His stomach suddenly went into a spasm and he gripped himself round the waist and rolled off the branch and curled up into a ball. The pain was awful and then just as suddenly as it had appeared it went away again. He struggled to get to his feet. He managed to find a length of wood and used it as a stick to support himself. He staggered off along the road towards the house. He thought he would have to rely on the mercy from whoever lived there – they might turn him over to the Army but, if he was lucky, they might take pity on him. It seemed to take ages to get there and during that last quarter mile he could hardly put one foot in front of the other as he swayed along. His overalls were now almost white with the ice. He had to stop every ten steps or so as the stomach cramps had him almost doubled up with pain. Once he even fell to his knees and crawled along the road on all fours. His head wound had opened up again and he could feel blood running down his face. It was going into his eyes and he could even taste it on his lips. He must have hit it on the ground either when he fell off the branch or when he was writhing on the road with the cramps Without really knowing what he was doing he slumped by the door of the house. He could not make out if there was anyone there and before he could do anything else he lapsed into unconsciousness. As he came round he could make out someone talking to him in what he guessed was French and as he lifted his head he could see a concerned look on the attractive face of a young woman.