survivorman; stuck in the grid of everyday duty

survivorman; stuck in the grid of everyday duty


repost/ edit
fighting in your place on the castle walls

fiction
edward w Pritchard


So much I wanted to be far out in wild country, arboreal woods or infested swamps or frozen mountain tops alone. Anywhere but here on the castle walls resigned to death, prepared to die honorably.

In the midst of a prolonged siege by our longtime enemy I fight, I fight. Eventually one accepts that we must fight, we must fight on using any means to endure; so we can stay in our place in the grid of our responsibilities, duties and everyday tasks.

Fighting in your place on the castle walls after eight hours of intense battle one grows numb to the slaughter and begins to see the mayhem clearly, dispassionately and with more than idle curiosity.

 The man to my left, the braggart as I had previously judged him had an arrow through his neck, angled low to high, he is now dead; but he hadn't fallen; the man once a braggart was now unceremoniously impaled and held up on his own spear. The man to my left had an arrow through his neck and was supported in death by his spear, the spear he probably polished before battles and stored between battles in a place of honor in his home.

Our purported invincible enemy below fuming and strutting at us as they fought; screamed in agony and cowardice when scalded by burning oil or spattered with small pieces of metal from our artillery. As I fired our cannons, round after round loaded with smoking steaming lead and metal the enemy below melted and evaporated with each roar I fired down upon them. For a few minutes after each blast they strutted no more.

In the midst of a prolonged siege by our longtime enemy I fought  bravely but wished to be anywhere else. Back in my youth, hiking with my Father on the mountain pass near my grand fathers home, or in a small tent with Gemma before our marriage.

A light rain began to fall and the sweat on my arms and back bristled with chill as I continued with my duties of tending to the cauldrons of burning oil nearby the smoking canon I fired over and over. I waited in a light rain and cold wind for the enemies next charge. Again and again I reheated the small chunks of metal to be fired soon from our over heated field artillery machinery. I watched the enemy below as they were showered with the scalding pieces of lead and iron. Their strutting stopped temporarily when struck by the missiles. As I fired the canon I was careful not to work up a sweat, in the cold wind that I stood in as I manned the canon hyperthermia is a real possibility.

This my fourth siege here in the castle and it looks to be several more days before it will became known if we would succeed in our efforts to drive off our besiegers and save our children and wives from slaughter and mayhem.

I didn't plan to be here in battle today and I did not properly arm myself for the conflict. First, I used  flint and steel I found laying about to start a fire, the fire that heats the projectiles I fire into our enemies bodies. Then I always carry a small Swiss style knife, my multi tool is always with me in battles. Shelter, I have no tent and must rest between enemy charges by dreaming of being in a tent far from here in place and time with Beautiful Gemma.

If I have time later I will gather more metal projectiles now laying scattered about the canon I tend to. Water, a small bucket sits near the canons to cool it between shots but I cannot drink, though I am deathly thirsty. The canon must be given my share of the water.

If there is a lull in battle perhaps I can catch a small mouse and lay him on the canons heated core and have a bite to eat between charges to keep up my strength. Obviously there is no time to clean the fur off the mouse.

The canon doesn't boom as it fires when full of molten metals, it thuds and then the enemy below scream. The winds are powerful here high up on the walls and they effect my shots from the canons. Sometimes I use my multi-tool to clean the bore of the canon  between shots.

I am the survivorman. I do my duty as I wait to die.