Chapter 1 – The Passing of a War Hero.
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Announcement

Welcome everyone to my second story! I am also the author the Red Hand, so check that out here if you haven't!
I hope you all enjoy this story, I plan on doing this one in the background of the Red Hand for now so it will be released slower at only one chapter per week (maybe 2 if I can do it) at 12:01 midnight EST on Mondays. I'll be putting up the first 10 chaps today!
Also disclaimer. I am trying to make things historically accurate where I can. The AI images are a bit harder so that is sadly a part that will not look right, so I ask for your forgiveness and understanding.

*BANG* *BOOM*

Explosions rang out across the battlefield as twin railway guns lobbed their massive shells. Even deep below ground in their trenches, the Soldiers of the 38th infantry divisions could feel the impact of the shells as they rained down on Fort Douaumont. The trench itself shook and it felt like the worlds most powerful earthquake was happening just outside.

"Damn, listen to those things roar!" A young man laughed as shells continued to explode outside. "I don't think the even the Boche can survive an explosion from shells that big! Its almost as if we've got our very own land dreadnought reining hell on them!"

"Don't get too excited, kid!" One of the older men, their Sergeant, yelled over the explosions. "The Germans have been taking our shelling for months, and I doubt even railway guns like Alsace and Lorraine can break their formations that easily. Otherwise, we wouldn't still be fighting them, and Verdun would be secured, so quiet down and wait for the signal! We'll be storming the Fort once the saturation bombardment completes." He turned to the young boy next to him. "Emile, I want you and your team right behind me the whole time. We'll clear the forward positions and pave a path for the tanks and flame teams to clean the Germans out of their positions safely."

"Yes, Sergeant!" Emile nodded. He'd turned 18 only a few months before the battle of Verdun started, and his first deployment after training was straight into hell itself. He'd gotten some leave and time away from the front, as the French army was rotating everyone in and out of this battle, but once he was back it was straight to the frontline.

{I hope it's not too optimistic to think that those guns have done SOMETHING. The last time we used railway guns, they seemed pretty effective and the German's own is quite the earthshaker.} Emile pulled a small Rosary from underneath his uniform. His mother had gotten it as a gift for his first holy communion, and right now, he figured he needed all the protection he could get. After saying a small prayer, he made the sign of the cross and put the Rosary away.

"Sergeant, do you think the Germans will use gas again?" Another soldier asked. "I heard that two sectors down, they were deploying shells and command was caught off guard."

"No idea, but keep that mask close by and ready to use." The Sergeant growled. "I don't need my men being killed because they misplaced the damn thing! So be prepared to mask up the second you think there's gas. When in doubt, put it on. If command bitches at me for wasting filters I'll eat the angry letters it if it means you boys get home alive."

{They're definitely going to use gas again... Dammit Gabriel, why didn't you listen to me and keep your mask on?!?} Emile thought back to his first time at Verdun and how he was one of the few survivors from his squad when the Germans deployed gas. Some of the men struggled to get the mask on, while others simply didn't understand the danger.

"So Emile." The young man across from Emile spoke, pulling him out of his thoughts. "What are you planning on doing once you get home?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Arnold." Emile gave a dry laugh as more shells exploded. "I'm thinking medicine, but right now, I just want to get out of this alive before I start thinking that far ahead."

{Being a doctor sounds a million times better than sitting in some muddy trench shooting at Germans.} (Emile)

"Come on, don't be like that." Arnold smile. "If you keep thinking you're going to die, it's going to happen. Just be like me and try not to take this too seriously, it's not going to help you any to be so pessimistic."

{You only talk like that because you haven't crossed No Man's Land yet, Arnold. Out there, you've got no time for fanciful think, and it takes all your effort and luck to stay alive.} (Emile)

"Cut the chatter!" The Sergeant called out. "The signal should be coming soon, we're about to hit zero hour, so everyone get ready!" He stood up and the other two dozen men readied themselves.

"Take positions on the trench wall. The Germans aren't shelling this sector, so it should be safe. Once you hear the whistle, get your ass over the top and move towards Fort Douaumont as fast as you can." He yelled out. "They should be disoriented from all the shelling, and we'll have one opportunity to get across and start clearing them out of their defense network! You all have your orders, so I expect you to fulfill them flawlessly and god willing we'll meet up at the designated location!"

"RIGHT!" (All the soldiers)

Once instructions were finished, the soldiers moved out of the shelter and took up positions inside the trench. Things were incredibly muddy, and the fresh summer rains had turned everything into a disgusting swamp that could suck you in if you weren't careful. In the distance, they could see the explosions along the German positions and the distinct sight of No Man's land between their trench and their enemy's position.

{Alright... Here we go again...} Emile's heart raced. This was far from the first time he'd gone over the top, but that didn't make it any easier. {I'll be alright... I'll be alright... Mom... I'll be home soon and you can make that stew you always made for me...} His thoughts continued to wander to his home and family until a dreadful sound rang out over the battlefield

*TWEEEEET*

The sound of a whistle echoed around him and he knew it was time.

"LET'S GO!!!" His Sergeant yelled at the top of his lungs as Emile and his entire squad climbed out of their trenches and ran full speed towards the German positions. As soon as they popped out, German guns opened up on them and men started dropping left and right.

{I have to get home. I have to get home.} Emile began thinking to himself as he charged forwards, bullets whizzing over his head. Charging forward, Emile found an overturned tree trunk to take cover behind as artillery exploded around his position. He sat, terrified that he was about to die from enemy fire, and as he lay with his back on the wood, a voice echoed in his mind.

"Dad. Dad, are you alright?" An older man's voice startled Emile and suddenly he was no longer sitting on a battlefield, instead, he was laying in a chair in his son's living room. "Are you here Dad? Are you with us, or are you... there." An older man who looked to be in his seventies spoke to him.

"I'm... I'm alright, Arnold. I'm back now, sorry for worrying you." Emile gave a weak smile as he looked upon his son.

{I've been going back there even more lately. I wonder if that means my time is coming soon?" It had been 82 years since the Battle of Verdun concluded, but the one-hundred-year-old Emile could remember those horrifying days like they were yesterday, and throughout his life, he'd find himself pulled into his mind and forced to relive those moments.

"What were we talking about? I'm sorry, but I appear to have forgotten.” Emile let out a dry laugh.

"I was telling you that your third great-grandchild was just born." Arnold gave a bitter smile. "I just wanted you to know that Jessica's birth had no complications, and they decided to name the boy after you."

"Ahh... I'm glad to hear that." Emile smiled. "Jessica was always such a good girl, and I'm happy to hear it. Tell her... tell her thank you." He started coughing.

"Dad!" Arnold was worried about his father and knew his health was failing, he was told by his father's doctor that it was likely he didn't have much time left and his COPD was only getting worse as the days went by.

"Where is she?" Emile started looking around frantically. "Where is Cher?" He started getting upset. "Where is she?!?"

"She's right here, Dad." Arnold bit his lip as he handed moved his father's hand to the rifle that lay against his chair. It was the same Berthier rifle he carried during his time in the First World War, and he'd carried it with him ever since. "Ohh... Cher, there you are..." Emile calmed down. "Please don't disappear like that on me again... You know I can't be without you." He used what little grip he could muster to grab hold of the barrel. "That's a good girl."

{Even all these years later, Cher manages to calm him down.} Arnold looked at his father with teary eyes. {When Mom died, I think she was the only thing that kept Dad from going after her.}

"Arnold..." Emile spoke to his son. "Please... please make sure... that Cher... that she goes... that she goes with me..." He wanted to be buried with his gun.

Arnold let out a tear-filled laugh. "Don't worry, Dad." Arnold grabbed his father's other hand. "I'll make sure she never leaves you, and I know Mom won't mind having her around." Cher was one of the few things that could give Emile peace, and when he suffered from a PTSD attack, it would act as something akin to a security blanket. Arnold's mother didn't understand the connection at first, but after his time alongside his father in the Second World War, Arnold understood exactly why his father was so attached to the gun.

Simply put, it was his lifeline. During the war, it the only thing that stood between him and death, and was the only thing he could rely upon. After spending countless days in the trenches and losing more friends than he could, Emile's weapon was the only thing that remained at his side consistantly. Thus, he'd come to view the weapon as something stabilizing and as a provider of security. By this point, it was considered a member of the family in its own right, and Arnold made sure it was right next to his father in his final moments.

"Cher... it's... time... the whistle... we must... go... again..." Emile's words slowed as he spoke until he went silent for a final time.

"Dad!" Arnold panicked as his father slumped over. "DAD?!?" He checked his pulse, feeling nothing.

"He's gone..." Arnold hung his head. "Dad..."

{Cher, I know this is probably crazy, but if you really can go with Dad, please take care of him. You're the only one he could ever truly rely upon.} Arnold said a prayer for his father before calling the rest of his family. As a veteran of Two World Wars and a decorated member of the French Armed Forces, he was afforded a funeral with full military honors. Arnold was glad to see his father being given the honor he deserved, and just as requested, he buried Cher with him, allowing his father to hold tightly to her for the rest of time.

{I love you, Dad, and I'll never forget you and everything you taught me. Please find peace in the next world, and may we meet again.} (Arnold)

_____________________________________________________________________________

<Emile POV>

"I feel... weightless..." Emile couldn't see or feel anything. "I suppose this means that I've finally died. Its finally over... soon the pain will be gone, the screams will stop and I'll be free..." Emile floated endlessly in the void for what seemed like an eternity before a voice spoke to him.

"Emile." The voice of a young woman called to him. "I'm sorry you've had to suffer for all these years. Even though you've always kept me by your side, I've never been able to do more than provide you comfort."

"W-who are you?" Emile didn't recognize the voice, though it somehow felt familiar.

"I can't speak much now, but don't worry, I'll see you soon, my friend." He could not see the person speaking but could tell they were smiling. "And once we meet, I'll make sure we're never apart again. Until then, please be safe... partner."

Before Emile could question things further, he felt a surge of gravity pull him downwards.

{What's happening?} Emile's thoughts raced as he didn't understand what was going on until moments later, he could see a light and hear a voice.

"Lady Amanda, it's a boy." A woman dressed as a maid spoke. Emile's eyes adjusted to the sudden change in light, and as he looked around he saw an exhausted woman dressed in a gown lying on a bed, and around her was two children, a girl and a boy, and alongside her was a man with blonde hair.

"Oh, he looks so cute." The woman smiled. Though it was clear that she was still in pain. "Please bring him here." Emile was handed over to the black-haired woman, who swaddled him in a blanket.

"What should we name him, dear?" The woman looked over at the man.

"I believe we should name him after my Grandfather." The man smiled.

"I agree, he was a fine man. Did you hear that? From now on, your name will be Emile." The woman smiled at him as the two children began to stare.

{What's going on?!?} (Emile)

Spoiler

Emile during World War One!

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Arnold during World War One!

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Please check out the discord for teasers for the upcoming chapters and general fun. You can get there here.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2 - A Child of Destiny.

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