The French Ship

He had almost made it to the quarterdeck when an explosion, searing pain and bright white lights had preceded the blackness of unconsciousness.

A strong pair of hands helped him gain his feet. Strangely, he was out of breath although he hadn't extended himself in any way. The pain eased as he accepted the support of his unknown helper and he eased his weight on to his good leg. He opened his eyes and stared about him. The carnage that he beheld shocked him and left him numb.

Bodies lay two and three deep around the quarterdeck guns. Here and there men cried out for help from a bloody heap. The pitiful few that were still able-bodied moved among them, straightening limbs that lay at crazy angles bringing screams from those they helped. Giving what aid they could to the accompaniment of screams from the dying, cries from young unbroken voices, yells and curses, from older throats.
Limbs hanging on by a strip of flesh were severed; cord was cut into short pieces and brought into play as tourniquets, the regular, pumping, debilitating loss of blood stopped by the twisting of the belaying pins tightening the looped cords. Those that could be helped were helped; but for the majority there could be no help; smashed limbs, headless bodies, entrails, blue, red and plump, looking oddly out of place. Pieces of flesh red and formless, unrecognisable as body-parts were spread about the deck..

Author: Glyn Adams

Title: The French Ship

Series: The Face of the Enemy

First Published by: Glyn Adams

Place:

Format: Kindle

Date: 9 June 2014

ISBN-10:

ISBN-13: