The following is a work of historical fiction. The events and horrors surrounding this story are real, but the characters and their achievements are not.
May we honor all those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.
Jean strolled through camp with purpose. His face plastered with the same cold, emotionless, scowl he’d worn since before he was a teen. Bodies moved out of the way as they saw him approach, assuming he was on business. As a Soldat 2.eme, there was no business.
Off to his side, a soldier called out “Morning Ft. Jean!” Being from a man in his regiment, he nodded an acknowledgment but never once dropped his scowl. The nickname ‘Ft. Jean’ was given to him during basic by his fellow enlistees as a joke that had followed him all the way to the trenches. They’d said ‘the only thing more impenetrable than Ft. Jean, is Verdun’, at least before the German’s started taking it back in February.
Jean’s destination was the mess hall, ready to receive his rations before he could try enjoying his couple days reprieve from the front. Normally, nothing caught his attention as he walked through camp but today something, or more specifically someone, did.
He was a slightly shorter and less built man than Jean, though his muscles were well defined. Shirtless, his sun-kissed skin seemed to radiate. His back was to Jean, as he talked to some fellow soldiers, giving Jean an ample view of the delicate curve of his back making way to a round and perky butt. The man then turned towards Jean, catching his eye. Jean realized he was staring, and his face began to blush. Turning his gaze down, Jean tried to blend into the crowed and move away.
Jean was eager for a good shower, ready to wash away the grime, mud, and blood of his last deployment to the front. It had been an especially brutal time that had taxed him greatly. It started with a German push not 100 meters from him in an attempt to distract the French from Verdun. They’d gotten to the first trench and carpeted the men inside with fire, their screams hollowed Jean as they begged for death.
The French then retaliated with Chlorine shells as the wind was in their favor. This too was hard on all the men as they heard their enemies who weren’t fast enough with their masks choke to death as their lungs burned on the deadly gas.
Jean hoped this war would be over soon.
Inside, he stripped off his clothes tainted with the smell of death and stepped into the communal shower. A mantra that had plaid a thousand times before repeated in his head. ‘Eyes forward. Don’t look down. Don’t even glance. Get in and get out.’
To his shock, he found the man again. The mantra ended as his eyes latched themselves onto the man’s bare butt. It was perfect in every way, well developed with a fine curve and hints of hair sprinkling the crack. Against his will his cock began to stir.
Jean had moved to a showerhead and started the stream but couldn’t break his gaze. The man once again turned and looked directly at his erect cock before looking him in the eye and winked.
Jean’s face turned bright red as he threw himself around to face the wall, hands covering his crotch as he begged his erection to end. It did not do so until the man had finished and left, finally allowing Jean to bathe.
Sitting just outside his tent, Jean pretended to read. The image of the man had painted itself onto his mind. Every detail was finely etched from his face, which he’d only now realized was handsome and somehow cheerful, to his slender body, to the perfect butt.
“So Ft. Jean isn’t so impenetrable!” a voice boisterously rang out next to Jean. “Or should I say, he’s more of a battering ram!”
Jean glanced over to the source to discover the man was standing next to him. Immediately his face turned red as he tried forcing it into the book. “W-what do you want?”
“I think you know what I want and I know what you want.”
Jean tried to ignore the man as his cock grew hard, afraid of what the consequences would entail.
The man lowered his voice as he sat down. “Relax Ft. Jean, your secret is safe with me. In fact, I have a similar secret, but I don’t hold it as close.”
For the first time, Jean turned and looked directly at the man’s face. “Do you?”
“Yes indeed. Should we find a place a bit more…private to discuss it?” The man stood up and started walking away. Jean amazed himself by following. The man guided Jean between a series of tents that looked deserted, likely unused at the moment.
Finally alone, the man turned to Jean and kissed him. Jean was startled and stepped back.
“What? Is this your first time?”
Jean’s normally large stature shrank as he looked down, embarrassed.
“Let’s take it slow. I know your name is Ft. Jean for that gorgeous strong attitude you always wear. Mine is Rene.”
Jean looked at Rene and let the layers of cold protection melt away as they talked. Jean shared his upbringing in the countryside. A small village of a few hundred people where everybody knew everybody else’s business.
Rene spoke of life in the Meditation costal city of Nice. Nowhere near as big as Paris, it still held enough people that one could blend in. And, for those who knew what they were looking for, one could find a few cafes and bars to meet others who shared their interest.
Jean was shocked to hear this last part. Sure, he’d been to Leon a handful of times but to think that there were places where he could find others who share his interest and not be in hiding in the cities was a revelation to him.
Jean’s reaction perplexed Rene. For his part, Rene had spent as much time in a commune as Jean had spent in a city. Out of curiosity, he asked Jean why he was so scared to have anyone find out he was attracted to men.
Jean lowered his head as he gathered his mental strength to revisit his childhood. Slowly, he shared the story of two boys only a few years older than he was. They had been rising stars in the community until their secret got out. One of their parents walked in on the boys in bed together. That same day they were kicked out of the commune with whatever they could carry.
“That’s awful!” Rene exclaimed. “But the sodomy laws were eliminated in the first revolution?”
“That’s life in a commune. Many don’t accept it even if it isn’t a crime.”
Rene’s lustful mood was dead, but a new mood had replaced it. He leaned over and hugged Jean.
Jean felt awkward in the embrace. It was the first real human contact he’d had in many years. As he felt Rene’s warmth encompass him, he leaned in and embraced Rene.
“Lets go get some coffee.” Rene said as he broke off the embrace. Jean nodded and followed Rene to the mess.
Nearly a month passed before Jean could see Rene again. Their scheduled deployments to the front had been thrown off by the battle to the north. For Jean, most of that month was the same routine he’d adjusted to. The occasional artillery fire, the odd rifle shot here and there, and a chemical shot that missed and quickly blew back to the German lines as it killed the rats the ruled no-mans-land.
One event stood out to him, not just because it happened right before his last deployment ended, but because it happened right next to him. A man in his regiment peered out of the trench to observe the enemy’s movements, head barely sticking over the top. Before the shot was heard, his head exploded and covered Jean in his blood and brain matter as his body sunk into the foul water and mud of the trench.
That was in the past now. In the present, he moved towards the set of tents Rene’s regiment was using. He strolled in and saw Rene unpacking, having just got back himself. After seeing Rene’s subtle acknowledgement to his presence, Jean continued walking to an abandoned section of camp. Nussle between tents, out of sight, he waited for Rene.
Rene strode into view and waisted no time. He walked up to Jean and pulled him tight before uniting their lips. Jean gave himself over to the kiss and let his arms wander south, cupping Rene’s ass.
While both reeked of war, Jean felt happy in the warm embrace. No longer touch starved, he wanted more. Looking deep into Rene’s eyes as the kiss broke, body language conveyed all that was needed. Together they unbuttoned each other’s pants and pulled them down to reveal their prize. Jean was amazed at how Rene’s butt could still look angelic after all that’d happened.
Before Rene’s pants had hit the ground, he’d pulled a small cloth ball out and opened it to reveal just over a day’s worth of rationed butter. Jean looked at Rene confused at this. Rene responded by once again moving in close and covering Rene’s dick with it before doing the same to his butt.
Finally prepared, Rene turned around and pressed his butt into Jean’s hard cock.
Jean was already in heaven as his cock was embraced by Rene’s meaty butt for the first time. Unsure of what to do and afraid that he’d hurt Rene, he slowly tried pushing the head in. To his joyous surprise, Rene’s butt welcomed him in as he sank deeper, slowly every centimeter plunged into the man he’d lusted before bottoming out.
Rene let out a soft moan before he could catch himself. Quickly he bit down the brim of his uniform hat before pulling forward.
Jean was scared that he was too but for Rene, or that he’d gone to fast. That concern was quashed when Rene thrust himself back onto his cock. Confidence slowly built as he started thrusting himself. He’d noticed Rene was stroking his cock and decided to take action. He swatted Rene’s hand away and started stroking the cock himself.
Rene was making him feel good, so to Jean it was only natural to make sure Rene felt good.
Back and forth the two went until Jean couldn’t hold back anymore. He whispered into Rene’s ear that he was about to finish, ready to pull out when Rene thrust his hips back to keep the cock inside. Jean understood the message and orgasmed deep into Rene’s glorious butt.
Jean pulled out and saw some of his orgasm begin to leak out. To help Rene stay “clean”, he scooped it up. Unsure what to do with it, he realized Rene had yet to reach his. With his orgasm filled hand, he started stroking Rene’s cock again. Feeling it get stiffer yet and desperate to ensure Rene enjoyed it too, he started sucking the head of Rene’s cum covered cock. Finally, Rene reached the threshold and Jean tried to take as much in as he could.
Post orgasm, they once again looked into each other’s eyes and saw the lust had shifted. A deeper understanding and appreciation of the other had formed. Together they wiped the sex away with some spare rags and dressed before leaving to wash away the musk of sex and the stench of war.
Jean and Rene spent all of their free time together. Jean felt that Rene was already a part of him. The piece he’d been missing for so long that made him feel alive, the piece that made him feel wanted.
Several more months passed where Jean and Rene would see each other whenever they could. Usually at basecamp in their relief from the war but occasionally on the front during especially quiet nights when their regiments were stationed together. A confidence had developed in Jean that they would survive the war together, because they had each other.
This confidence was shattered one morning when Jean saw Rene run into the collection of tents his regiment as stationed. The look of dread painted on his face rocked Jean to his core. Together they slipped away to privacy.
“I’m going over the top tomorrow, Jean.”
The words hit him like a brick. Rene was going to leave the relative safety of the trenches to cross no-man’s-land. Immediately, he guessed as to the reasoning for the order; that being to distract the enemy from Verdun to hopefully finish the battle that started so long ago. “B-but why you? Can’t they send another regiment?”
“It’s an order, Jean. I have no choice.” Rene leaned in and kissed Jean as he wrapped his arms over Jean’s shoulders.
Jean pulled Rene tight. “I don’t want you to go.” Traces of tears pooled at the corners of his eyes but he held them back.
“I know Jean. But I won’t die. I’ll storm those German trenches and get a great win for France, because I’ll have the man I love watching over me.” Jean looked at Rene confused. “You’ll be stationed right next to where I’m going over the top, providing back-up.”
Jean pulled Rene tight again and whispered words he’d thought he’d never say into his ear. “I love you Rene.”
“I love you too, Jean.”
The two were forced to break off as their regiments were about to head out. They said their farewells and snuck in one last kiss before departing.
Dawn broke behind the German lines. The body numbing rattle of artillery landing in no-man’s-land had been going for hours in an attempt to clear the obstacles that would obstruct Rene’s path had yet to stop. Jean hoped it never would, for the moment it did the real battle would begin.
The final rounds landed and exploded as a few disparate pieces of barbed wire embedded themselves into the far side of the trench. The call was made.
Off to his left, Jean could see Rene’s regiment begin climbing out of the trench. Scattered riffle shots began to fire from the German’s trench as his fellow soldiers worked to identify their origin to take out. Jean fired off a single shot, unsure if he’d made the kill.
Glancing back to the men traversing no-man’s-land, he immediately identified Rene, but his perfect butt of course. They had crossed half the 30-meter distance with few losses. For a brief moment, Jean thought they would make it.
The whirl of a machine gun erupted in his ears. With marksman’s focus he located the concealed nest on the German’s side. Panic filled him as he looked back to Rene, just in time to see the first bullet enter him. Several more followed as Rene sunk to the ground.
“No!” Jean screamed out, voice lost in the war surrounding. Time slowed to a crawl as Rene’s head hit the ground.
Rage consumed Jean as he turned back to the machine gun nest. Raising his M1886, he took aim. ‘7 shots’ he though as he looked down the iron sights and puled the trigger. The bullet landed in the wood protecting the nest just below the opening. Fully exposed, he drew the bolt back and chambered the next round.
‘6 shots.’ He aimed slightly higher and released his breath slowly as he pulled the trigger. Just above the opening, he reloaded. ‘5 shots’ he corrected his aim again as he steadied himself and fired, finally feeling the recoil of the gun again. The bulled entered the nest, but he wasn’t sure where. ‘4 shots.’ He’d already reloaded and fired before seeing someone clamor in pain. It was the assistant and he appeared to be shot in the shoulder. ‘Good’, Jean thought.
‘3 shots’, the bullet landed in the nest again as he could barely see the assistant fall over, hopefully dead. ‘2 shots.’
A conversation Jean had had when he was first deployed to the front flashed through his mind. “We generally aim for the triangle of death”, the sniper had told him. “The area between the corners of the mouth and the bridge of the noise. When hit, it’s instant death as the bullet pierces the brain stem.”
Jean aimed for the gunner. Through the opening and in the darkness, Jean could just make out the gunner’s mouth. Having taken out the assistant, the gunner had spotted Jean, and was moving to intercept. Bullets started flying to Jean’s left as he held his ground. Lined up in the iron sight, Jean pulled the trigger.
The barrage of bullets stopped just short of his left arm. With one shot left, Jean was looking for more targets, more German bastards to eliminate to avenge Rene. A force lunged into this left side, toppling Jean as he turned and fell back wards into the putrid mud. It crawled up his face, covered his ears, and threated to enter his noise and eyes before he hit a solid ground.
Looking up, Jean saw his CO restraining him. “That’s enough Jean!” he yelled as he fought of Jean’s desperate advances to continue his rampage. “That’s enough.”
The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, France was celebrating. She had won the war and reclaimed her territory. Jean was not celebrating.
He stood in a cemetery before a grave. It was empty he knew, but it was all he had. Appended to his dress uniform was the Legion of Honor from the events of that faithful day two years ago. He couldn’t speak for his throat was constricted, and if he could he wouldn’t know what to say.
An older woman walked up to the grave, standing next to Jean. In a horse voice strangled with grief she spoke. “Are-were you a friend of Rene’s?”
Jean lacked the composer for talking as the mask he’d worn for so long fell into place. “No.” was all the said as he turned and walked off.
Standing outside of the train station in Leon, baggage in hand, Jean looked for the bus terminal. He checked the time on his ticket and sighed. There was an hour wait before he would board the bus that would take him back to the commune of his childhood. Back to the life of secrets and dread.
The image of a man kept flashing in his mind as he did his best to cast it aside. The last thing he wanted the people he knew to see was tears in his eyes. That wouldn’t be the hero’s welcome they wanted.
The bus pulled up and Jean collected his things. Moments before boarding he froze. A snap decision coursed through him. Jean turned and reentered the train station. With the pay from his service, he purchased a train ticket heading south and then east. Final stop, Nice.
Magic Fable 