Keiran Eagen

Sellers ~ Humanities

A Flight with the Birds

Sweet June air fills my lungs as I sit here with my comrades in this year of 1916. We sit
together in the hills surrounding the small town of Lutsk, Russia, waiting for that dreadful
moment that only we soldiers will understand. We do not think of the moment when we will
have to run into this town only to be stopped in our tracks by a piece of metal and bury our faces
in the mud and breathe no more. I avoid these dark thoughts for they are the ones that can bring a
soldier down. I turn my head away from such lifeless things and look towards this town in which
I walked through and talked too and planted my roots in. This place is different, my senses are
confused because it does not contain the tastes and smells that once permeated the air. My lungs
are filled with the taste of metal and men and blood. Death, it hovers around me, around my
comrades. How can something so dark, so colorless, hang around a place filled with light and
such an exquisite nature?
Our cook rings the bell letting us know that our rations for the evening are ready. I scurry
to my pack and grab my mess tin. I find many of my comrades have beaten me in this little race
to the food cart but I do not worry. The man always in the first ten people to get in that line is
Alexei. He is a short little man but he is strong, he could pick me up and throw me out into space
if he wanted to. That would be quite a feat for I am very tall and am not as light as a feather. In
line with Alexei are Yurij and Erik. They are young boys, almost children, but they are good
fighters and have great aim with a rifle. They tag around me and Alexei because we are strong
and are looked up too. We do not mind them doing so, Erik and Yurij are good comrades and we
consider them our friends.
We take our rations and leave. Yurij says he has found a nice spot to sit and eat and we
follow him there. I have been to this grove before. I do not tell them this, they dont even know
this was where I lived with my family. That is alright with me, they may be my trusted comrades
but this place remains too close to my heart. The smells, the tastes, the sounds, and the people are
all a part of me that cannot be described adequately through words. I sit with my comrades here
in this grove and we talk and laugh and smile. I am reminded of how lucky I am to be here. I
think of Savva. My first friend during this terrible war. Savva was a young man, maybe in his
early twenties when I first met him. He had a wrinkled muddy face and looked tired and worn,
but he saw me there, a new recruit who was lost and confused after being thrust into a uniform
and handed a gun and a pack. He smiled, he came to me and taught me what you can teach a
person about fighting a war. He was transferred to another division and when I asked if anyone
had seen him there they said he had been shot. I was shocked by this, that a man so experienced
could die because of one lousy bullet.
I finish my rations and say I am going to take a walk, and leave Alexei and the boys to
their devices. As I walk away I am captured by the whole and surrounding sensation of what
death would feel like. Not a natural peaceful death in your sleep, but rather one where a bullet

hits its mark or shrapnel pierces your body. I am scared of that happening to me. I fear death, I
see how it affects people. I watch it penetrate the minds of my comrades that have no energy to
go on. It seeps into all of our tired bodies, into our bones. I see the birds, they dive and climb up
and then dive again only to soar into the beautiful blue sky once more. I wonder what it would be
like to be a bird. To be so free and to see the earth as it really is from up above. To escape the
sounds of rifles firing and shells landing. How magnificent it would be to see all the little people
and all their little lives and never have to be involved in any of them. How colorful everything
would be. You would probably see the whole spectrum of colors with everywhere you might go.
These birds get to live. Why cant I go live with them? Why cant I go and see the whole
spectrum of colors? Because I am scared of life that is why I cannot go live with them and that is
why I cant go see those colors. I am scared of what I will be after this dreadful bloody war is
finally over.
Lev! Leeeeeeevvvvvv! nags Yurij as I return back to camp.
Hey Yurij, wheres Alexei and Erik? I ask
Oh, they are comin. They had some extra baggage.
And promptly Alexei arrives carrying something in his arms and Erik right behind him
with something even bigger and a grin from ear to ear on his face. They set down their things and
Alexei comes to me and says Prepare for a little surprise kind Sir.
With that he motions to Erik and Yurij to take the cloths off of whatever lay beneath
them and showed me the sweet food they had gathered. The last of the rations, beans, biscuits,
and some juicy pork.
You three are all scoundrels of the worst kind! I smile and tussle with them
lightheartedly.
Ah, we know Lev. Or else there probably wouldnt be this food in front of ya, eh?
replies Alexei.
Yes I know. You may be scoundrels, but I sure as hell love ya all for it!
We dig into the wonderful food that these three had somehow managed to get away from
the cook or maybe they conjured it up with magic. I do not know, I dont care either. Its extra
food thats all that matters. The sun is setting and it shines golden warmth upon all of us. It is
like sweet elixir. There is more laughter and more smiles, it is almost as if we are all in a dream
for it is rare that we get a day like this. I have probably seen this beauty in full display only once
since the day I was handed a gun and pack. That was almost a year ago. This day drives out all
those bad memories, and only brings in dreams. We get lazy and recline into the soft grasses that
have not been trampled under the boots of our men. We talk and laugh and we remember. Those
times that where good and bright and full of life. We dream and fall asleep as the night falls and
takes hold over us.
I do not sleep though. I rarely sleep. I just think, sometimes I wonder if I could be a
philosopher. I sure as hell think enough to be one. I wonder what philosophers dream about at

night. They probably dont sleep at all either. I guess I am a philosopher. Anyway, what do you
think mathematicians dream about? I bet they dream of numbers and properties and such. I was
never skilled at that subject so I will not dwell on it. As for me I dream of my family and the
birds, what the earth would look like from space, and words. They float in front of me like wispy
clouds. I touch them, and feel how soft and glorious they are to the touch, but when I grab them
and try to make them mine they slip through my fingers with such a satisfying poof that I cant
drive myself to get frustrated. I feel almost as a child because I try and try again and never seem
to learn that these words, these soft clouds in my head cant ever be reached no matter how hard
I try.
It is morning again. We have made a small advance that has brought us down closer to
where the Austro-Hungarian forces sit. We can see there little faces nestled in behind there
machine guns and barbed wire. They think we will never get through, that is their fault, and we
will get through because we are stronger than they think. We sit behind cover and listen to the
explosions and the bullets. The air smells of battle, of death, and of hot metal plunging into our
beloved mother earth. There is also the smell of food, which seems rather out of place and
intrigues me.
Sweet smells of warm food fills the air. It makes my stomach grumble and gurgle as I sit
with Alexei and we talk about the advance and all the other quaint small talk that people talk
about before you must go out for another charge. It was almost as if these smells had been
organized to fall over us just as our cook rang the bell. We are ready for our breakfast but Alexei
and I decide to let the other men go first because of our feast last night. Yurij and Erik are less
considerate and they expressed that to us very clearly.
We may ave ad a feast last night but I aint missin out on some breakfast cos o that!
said Yurij as he ran off to get in line.
Erik walked up next to Alexei and me and simply said, I like my food fresh, you two are
on your own.
So Alexei stayed and chatted with me as we waited until about half the line was through
then we jumped in and took our rations to where Erik was and waited for Yurij to return from the
woods where he was relieving himself.
This breakfast was good. Whatever got into the cook today was fantastic because we
hadnt had food so sweet and filling in a long time. War still somehow penetrated through this
splendid treat that warmed our stomachs and seemed to mix together with the smells of
satisfying food. Rumor had it we were going to charge tomorrow. It is these things that make the
death seep into all of us. My fear of death is almost as great as my fear of life. I do not want to
die but after all that I have seen I do not think that I would be able to return to my regular life. I
have seen nothing nearly as bad as the trenches on the Western Front but war leaves scars on a
man.
How they think that men can fight a war and still be sane, I do not know. My posters
always portrayed heroes. I realized long ago that nobody out here is a hero. I said to Alexei.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. These men that run our governments, our countries, and hold control
over our people have no idea what war is. They think we will return as heros and go back to our
everyday lives. Lev, we have roots, we have a life already. These kids, they have none. They will
never survive out there in the world of inventions and business. What would they do out there
Lev? These kids first job was to hold a gun and shoot them at men. You cant recover from that
Lev. We wont recover from that, but at least we will have something to come back too. Erik and
Yurij, they have nothing.
I know. I worry about all the children, all the boys that survive this. I am scared of their
deaths just as much as mine. I fear what their lives will be like after all this. I am scared for us
too. Will we be the same men? Will be able to be the good fathers we were? What will happen,
what will happen?
I dont know. That is only for the universe, God, or whatever else is up there to
understand.
The day has flown by at what feels like the speed of light. Before I even had a chance to
wake my mind up the day had passed and it was the evening again. I continue to sit with my rifle
ready to fire and look out at the Austro-Hungarian camp. We will be making our attack
tomorrow, which was announced by our stout little general. I prepared my things and made Yurij
and Erik do the same. Alexei had left to find something, who knows what the something may be,
I just let Alexei do what he needs to do. Erik and Yurij are talking about the rumors of how long
the front of the attack will be and Erik says, I heard that this fronts almost 200 miles long. I also
heard that there are over 2,000 guns.
No, no. There is no way that dis front will be 200 miles long. Thats enormous! Too
big, there is no way! Replies Yurij.
I must agree with Erik. A front can be this long. I have learned from some higher
ranking people that we are supposedly starting an offensive to draw those dammed German
troops away from the other fronts. And with that I leave those two to argue it out.
I am nervous. I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach and my heart beats in my ears.
This battle will be different from the other ones. I sit with my rifle looking at the town. I dont
dare shoot since it is so quiet. There is almost no skirmish fire today, it is odd to not have the
noise of gunshots in the background, reverberating in your ears, never letting you truly be at
peace with yourself. The noise robs you of your thoughts and sometimes your heart. How I will
survive this I do not know. I do not care, I have no desire to live in a normal place with normal
people. I could stand here and let the earth swallow me whole. Let it take my life so someone
else may keep theirs, so I can be free and let my spirit fly with the birds.
I fall asleep, there are no words in my dreams tonight just birds. I become them, I see all
the colors the world has. The vibrance of these colors is like nothing else that I have seen. No
colors in the world could be this beautiful and real, no force in nature could create these things. I
am tired of death. I am tired of life.

I wake up early. Most of the other men are up too. We no longer are our parents sons, we
are new men, we feel, think, and breathe war, and we no longer seek pleasure but survival. Our
brains have adapted to our surroundings and converted us into full on soldiers, with these
unknown changes we sense battle, it is near. We soldiers know things that are not understood by
normal people, people that have not experienced war. Being a soldier changes you from the first
day you put on a uniform. You are not the same person. Everyone you know treats you different
because youre a soldier, even though in the army you treat each other as if you are the same as
before. Normal people will never understand.
My comrades and I start preparing our weapons. They gleam and we look at them as if
they are old friends. In a way they are, they have been through countless adventures with us. We
call them adventures just to avoid the word horrors, but battles are only horrors when you get
caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yes they are bloody and hard and are terrible, but
horrors, they are something else.
The time has come for another adventure my friend. I say to my rifle. I run my fingers
over it and feel all of the rifles beautiful movements. My Mosin-Nagant is a bolt action, internal
magazine fed rifle. The rifling turns to the right and has a barrel length of 29 inches. This gun is
my friend and partner, we know all there is to know about each other. We are ready and so is
everyone else, we can all here our hearts pounding in our ears. The butterflies in our stomachs
almost seem to be making a buzzing sound that can be heard everywhere and fills the air with an
immensely unpleasant sound. This divisions feelings have become one, they change at the same
time and move as one. We are all ready to scream at the top of our lungs Urah and advance
into the town of Lutsk and make it ours once again. For no Austro-Hungarian deserves to stand
in that town that belongs to part of my heart.
Our division is told that it is time for the advance. The men take the almost ceremonial
last breaths before we all start running. The Austro-Hungarians sit smugly behind their razor
sharp barbed wire and spread their machine gun bullets along our lines. We keep running
anyway, we have no more thoughts, just actions. Scanning for the slightest cover, for anything
that could be the deciding factor between a bullet in your stomach or a couple more breaths. I
look to my right and there is Erik. He is running right next to me with his rifle ready to fire, and
then ducks behind some quick cover and I continue on without him. I fire my rifle as I continue.
It bangs and a bright blast shines in my eyes for a millisecond. It burns into my vision just like
the sun does when you look directly at it. I fire again, another bang, another flash, and then I
jump into a shell whole. I breathe, I take in the surroundings, I listen to the sounds of machine
gun fire, shells landing, rifle fire, and the sounds of my comrades falling into the mud, taking a
last breath, and then finally exhaling only to never inhale again. I hear a gap in the machine gun
fire and pop my head up and take a couple of shots with my rifle. More bangs and flashes, I do
not keep my head up long enough to see if I had hit my mark. I jump out of the shell whole. I run
through the mud we are so close to surrounding them and their barbed wire, but still so far away.
I take 5 more steps and feel something. This something does not belong to me, it is not mine and
it causes me pain. I fall. I lay in the mud and breathe. I position my head so that I may see the
wound.

A bullet. I mutter to myself. I never thought that I would handle this situation so well.
It must be because I have let my fears build up in the recesses of my brain and they were
overblown, like balloons at a birthday party. Everything feels almost serene, so tranquil, and I
could even describe this as placid. I never thought that dying would be so calm, there is nothing
to be scared of here, but I now think that I do not want to die. I have a fear of death just as much
as I have a fear of life but as I lay here I realize now that I want to see my life through. I will
live. I will not die. At least not yet I wont.
It is some days later now. I am not lying on the battlefield still, I am in a hospital now.
Alexei and Erik have come to visit me. They say that Yurij is dead. He was shot in the lung on
the left side. No man can live with a bullet through their lung for long. They say he must have
passed quickly. Erik reports that the battle was won and Lutsk is Russias again. I almost cried,
when they told me these things. I could not believe that young Yurij was dead. He was so
mischievous and it always seemed as though he could dodge bullets. Yurij had so much life left,
he could have lived through that war. He had dreams. Yurij had told me his dreams. I cannot
bear it anymore. I must forget him for the rest of the world already has, so I must as well.
My life is not over, that is what I told myself when I was laying there in that squishy
oozing gross mud. I knew I had life to live and that is why I am here in this hospital. Waiting for
the day when my wife and children come to visit me here. Then next will be the day I am out of
this hospital. Then the day that I am home for the first time in what feels like years. For the first
time in an eternity I dream of new things. For the first time in eternity I sleep. That is even more
exciting, I slept. I still think more than the average person, which is why I have started to write
down my thoughts and ideas. Maybe I am a philosopher.
I will go home, I am ready to return to my family and my people. I can live with the
struggles that come because the scars that war leaves on me. Everyone has scars that they carry
so I must be strong enough to carry mine. I want to see the colors and the birds that this earth
provides me with. I want to see the world through my eyes before I let go and see it with the
birds. I have lived my life, I have experienced beauties and horrors and now it is time to
experience everything else. I need to push on and understand life better than I did before. I dont
want to live my life, I want to LIVE my life and that is what I will do. I will see all the colors in
the world before I let my spirit fly with the birds. Nothing will stop me until I am swallowed up
into the earth for the first, last, and only time.