(Don't shoot 'til you see the yellow of its eyes!)
Seargent Blood of the fifth Worm battalion crawled through the hospital tunnels, offering words of encouragement and congratulations to his men.
"Jolly good fighting yesterday, Private Tape," he told one worm who was being bandaged by a nurse.
Private Tape saluted the Seargent as he walked past to the next casualty of war.
"How are you, Private Ring?" he asked a worm resting unsteadily on a crutch.
Private Ring looked at him and simply grunted, "Fine.".
Seargent Blood was momentarily taken aback. "What's wrong, Soldier?"
Private Ring replied, "It's this war, Sir. They said it would be over by Christmas. That's what they said, Sir. How long has it been now? Years? My family are dead and most of the lads I joined up with are either dead or Missing In Action. What are we fighting for, Sir? What's the point?"
The Seargent looked up. His gaze went through the tunnel ceiling, through the grass and into the sky. "We fight for the rain, Private Ring," he said. "Its steady rhythm calls us, our bodies ache for its touch. But with the rain come the birds; hungry, evil creatures who threaten our freedom. That is why we fight, Son."
Private Ring shook his head. "It still seems so hopeless. How many worms have died..."
Seargent Blood reached over. Taking a firm grip he shook the soldier. "What are you, Soldier?" he shouted. "Are you a worm or a maggot?"
Private Ring, shocked by his officer's reaction, shouted, "Worm, Sir!"
Seargent Blood nodded. Letting go of his soldier he told him, "This morning's battle will be one of our finest battles yet, Private. Today we'll show them crows and their cronies that the worms of this garden are a force to be reckoned...'
His speech was cut short by the arrival of a messenger.
"Our spies report the crows have dispatched the blackbirds," reported the messenger.
"E.T.A?" asked the Seargent.
"Under one hour," replied the messenger.
Seargent Blood swore under his breath before sending the messenger off to deliver his message to the other fronts.
After watching him leave the Seargent turned to Private Ring and said, "Hold in there, Soldier. And pray for us all," he added quietly.
Private Ring saluted and watched the Seargent leave.
"Good luck, Sir," he whispered.
The blackbirds, a cunning and deadly element of the crows army, soared through the clouds. Three battalions, their stomachs howling with hunger and their hearts hungry for a fight, flew for the garden.
"This is Gold leader to base," said the lead blackbird, "we are approaching enemy lines and are in view of the targets."
There was a moment of delay before the reply came.
"Copy that, Gold leader," said the crow at base. "Is there any movement on the worm lines?"
Gold leader surveyed the area. "Negative base, but you can bet they know we're coming. Hold on, I do see some commotion down at the dog kennel. It seems that the dog is strangling a fox. Could this be some kind of diversion, base?"
The crow at base sniggered and replied, "That happens everyday, Gold leader. Ignore it and continue with your mission, we're hungry here."
"Copy that base," replied Gold leader, feeling the pain in his own stomach. "This is Gold leader to Blue leader and Red leader, enter into attack formation and begin your descent."
"Copy that, Gold leader," came the replies.
The worms under Seargent Blood's command gathered at the Northern front. Seargent Blood paced up and down shouting orders and trying to keep his men calm, whilst always looking up into the heavens and looking for those dark shapes that signalled death and destruction.
A messenger ran upto him.
"What news lad?" asked the Seargent.
"We have engaged the enemy at the Western and Eastern fronts, Sir," he panted, breathless from running. "The Western front has taken a huge beating and casualties are high..." The worms on the Northern front all bowed their heads solemnly on hearing this news. "But the Eastern front are holding their ground and have reported one bird down!" The assembled worms cheered.
"Any other news, Lad?" the Seargent asked him.
The messenger nodded gravely, "The earwigs and woodlice send reports of moles sapping beneath their tunnels."
The Seargent swore. The moles were mercenaries, for them to be working for the crows meant that this battle could be futile and the war over.
Another messenger ran upto the Seargent.
"The Western front has fallen, Sir. When I left there was but a handful of men still alive."
"E.T.A. of the birds?" demanded the Seargent.
The worm looked up into the sky. "They're here now!" he cried.
The Seargent gasped as he followed the worm's eyes and saw ten dark shapes gradually getting closer.
"They're throwing everthing at us this time, Lads. Be prepared, this'll be a hard one!"
He ran upto the field guns manned by Gunner Earth.
"Sir," said Gunner Earth, looking into his sights, "there's too many of them. We don't stand a chance!"
"We have to, Lad," replied the Seargent. "For Bingo and Johnny and Wiggles and all our lads that have died in this war. Have you made your peace with God, Gunner?"
Gunner Earth nodded. "Then let's rip them bird's blasted feathers out!"
Time seemed to drag as the wings of death gradually grew closer. Finally Gunner Earth saw the blackbirds' hungry beaks in his sights.
"Incoming, Sir!" he yelled. "Your orders?"
Seargent Blood stood watching as sharp beaks descended upon them.
"Your orders, Sir?" shouted a panicking Gunner.
Seargent Blood turned slowly to his gunner and with an angry snarl said, "Don't shoot 'til you see the yellow of its eyes!"
Geoff the gardener opened the gate to his beloved garden to find the ground covered in worms.
"Must've been raining last night," he said to himself, trying not to step on too many.
Geoff walked over to the dog and patted it on its head. Dog growled softly but never woke up.
"Left you out all night again, have they?" said Geoff, putting a bone in the dog's bowl. He looked up and saw the bodies of seven blackbirds lying, as if in state, on the grass.
Geoff shook his head. "Bloomin' cats!" he said. "Where's me spade?"
Below ground the worms celebrated. Seargent Blood, killed in battle, was hailed a national hero. The battle had been won and, for the moment, the worms could enjoy the rain that they fought so hard for. But they all knew the birds would be back. The battle may have been won but the war was far from over.