Cascadialandsaga

Welcome back to my ongoing story about Anson and his experiences of the Great War. In time I expect this story to form into a long "short story" or even a novel.   Chapter 2 Anson turned to rush back and grab his rifle, but was knocked off his feet after taking a smack to the head from a club-like object. He lay in the trench grime momentarily helpless as he hears whistles off in the distance competing with the ringing in his ears. Panicked shouts were soon to follow. He couldn’t quite identify his attacker’s features even once the searchlight from the defensive slope aimed down to identify where the attack was occurring. The man was now a dark form with a halo of artificial light and he stepped forth to skewer Anson on his bayonet. Anson felt a moment of dread, realizing what was about to happen and his attempt to scramble away was futile on the slick surfaces. Out of the corner of Anson’s vision an unknown assailant stopped his executioner by rushing in unarm...