GerEng: Battlefield (REQUEST)

Oh, how he hated this war.
Ripped away from his home months before due to a stupid draft, then forced to fight miles away from home, on the Western Front. He had arrived in Flanders a week ago. During that time, he was given instructions on how to aim and shoot a gun, what basic commands meant, pretty much everything a soldier had to know. Was it rushed? Yes. Did he forget half of it? Yes. Did he hate being here? Oh, bloody hell yes.
Arthur Kirkland crouches next to his fellow soldiers. They are preparing to charge out of the trench and into the battle zone. Gunshots ring in his ears, and the ground shakes as bombs strike it, sending curtains of dirt flying into the air. Some of it falls into the trench. Thankfully, his helmet prevents it from getting in his hair or on his face.
"Be brave, be brave," The young Brit keeps to himself. But he's terrified. His body trembles, he feels like crying, and he has a deathly tight grip on his gun. Next to him, a young teenager is crossing himself over and over, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Get ready!" Their leader shouts. They all go up to a low crouch, their heads just below the surface of the ground.
Knees weak, arms are heavy. He feels like he's going to vomit all over his uniform. His checks to make sure his gun is loaded. He crosses himself a final time.
"CHARGE!"
He forces his muscles to haul him out of the trench. He already sees his troop members falling down, dead. He forces himself to ignore and runs forward as fast as his legs can carry him.
Eventually, after what felt like forever but was only seconds, he finds some sort of shelter from the gunfire. He hides behind a stack of sandbags. Two other men scurry next to him, but he pays them no attention. It's every man for himself out here.
Arthur peers over the edge and sees some German soldiers hiding behind some rocks. He aims for the one who is straight in front of him. He aims his gun and waits.
for a second, although it felt like minutes, a head peers around the rock. Bright blond hair, piercing blue eyes, a very square jaw, and a German uniform. The uniform of the enemy.
Arthur fires his gun, but he was too distracted looking at the man and taking note of his features that he missed his chance. The head slips behind the rock right before the bullet is fired.
"Shit! Ah!" Arthur cant help but curse. A massive tremor shakes the ground and a deafening boom sounds. Arthur falls over due to the tremor and is dazed. His ears are ringing and for a moment, he forgets where he is. But then he remembers: he stuck in the middle of a battlefield. He must survive!
He gets back up and looks around. A bomb shell had landed a few meters behind him. He realizes he is covered in dirt, so he brushes it off his helmet and runs a hand over his uniform, then aims his gun at that rock again.
He waits for a few seconds, before that head peers out again. Arthur fires immediately. And that's when time seems to slow down.
The gunshots and sounds of explosions seem to fade into the background. Arthur can hear his breathing, his heartbeat, and the blood pounding in his ears. He feels the gun jerk back slightly as he fires, and shifts his weight forward to prevent himself from falling backwards.
The German lifts his eyes up from the ground, where he had been looking. And, for just a second, the two lock eyes. Arthur freezes, his jaw slightly agape. he feels those blue eyes burn into his green ones, right into his sole. He shivers and grits his teeth.
Suddenly, those eyes widen, and a look of pain crosses the German's face. Arthur grins and can't help but laugh. He hit him! Right in the head!
Well, almost.
A think line of blood appears on the German man's cheek. No hole, no face suddenly exploding.
"Damn it," Arthur thinks. The bullet had grazed him.
So distracted in his own thoughts of how he is a bad aimer, and how he wants to just throw himself over and beat the man to death, he doesn't notice the German whip out his musket, nor the sudden excruciating pain in his left arm until he blinks. Then time goes back to normal.
Arthur cries out and falls backwards, clutching his arm. How did he let himself get hit?! He had been so wrapped up in that stupid German.
As Arthur struggled to get himself back together and to try again, or maybe even try running to a different spot, he couldn't get those piercing blue eyes out of his head. Why were they so haunting? He didn't know, to be honest.
He picks up his gun and crawls out from the sandbags. He stays low to the ground, and moves slowly, praying not to be seen.
Unfortunately, it doesn't work so well. He feels a blast of pain in his back, then another one, then another one in his leg.
As the world fades to black, he sends some final prayers to his family before slipping away. The final image he saw as he closed his eyes was a flash of that square job, that German uniform, and those bright blue eyes.