Storm of War

Thomas breathed in the cool, salty air as he stood on the deck of her majesty’s own “Indefatigable”. It was a rough night, waves crashing over the side of the ship. Large black clouds hung over them like vultures circling a carcass. He was peppered with large dots of rain as lightning crashed in the distance. Thomas drew in his jacket closer to him. The ship tossed and turned on the ocean. Thomas clung to a guy-rope for balance as the ship rocked violently. Large pools of sea-water were forming on the floor.

A large boom was heard. Thomas, startled, quickly spun round to see the mast crash to the floor. Yells came from below the decks as the sailors rushed upstairs, and piled out of the cabin door. A large gaping was carved into the side of the ship, it leading up to where the mast used to be.

It was then he saw them. At first it was obscured by rain and mist, but as it moved forward it was very clear what it was. A huge ship twice the length of theirs! It sharply turned so that its port side was facing them. It was the enemy, the enemy that Thomas was supposed to have spotted.

Several flashes came from the side of the enemy ship. Thomas realised to late what they were, cannon fire. The shots pounded the ship, rocking it violently. Thomas was hurtled thorough the air. He lashed out with his arms frantically. They contacted something hard, he grasped it. He dangled from the mast that was hanging over the edge of the ship. Thomas gathered up all his strength and hoisted himself on to the mast. He cautiously crawled his way back on to the ship, where all hell had broken loose. Men were running around yelling, shooting, and in general, panicking.

The enemy’s ship’s guns blazed furiously, each blowing out a stream of fire and smoke. The smell of gunpowder singed the air. It was utter chaos. There were dead and dying men lying on the deck. The enemy ship drew close. Twenty armed men swung on to the deck swords drawn. The burnt cracked and splintered as they ran furiously over to Thomas and the other survivors.

The ship lay in ruin. Main fallen, sails burnt and men dead. The last few survivors were fighting outnumbered for their lives. Thomas heard a crack and reached down to his stomach. He felt something warm and wet. His strength fell away from him into a pool on the floor.

The smiling soldier with a pistol stood smiling like a shark at him a few meters away, before moving off to find a new target.

He collapsed into a pile and stared blankly over to the horizon. A Ship! He strained to see its flag. A British ship!

“Too Late” he thought.