Fear

I believe this scene from Slogans: Our Children, Our Future did a good job of presenting true fear.  The sequence showed not just fear on a mental level, but its effect on the physical.  My protagonist, Igor, is a young soldier in the Bolshevik cavalry, the Konarmia.  Throughout his military career, he prided himself with a bravery that never failed.  In battle after battle, he channeled fear to strengthen his resolve and heighten his senses.  But in this battle against Poland, Igor was forced to face defeat and the power of true fear.

* * *

     Pop.  For the first time in his life, Igor felt real fear.  It was not the exhilaration that once fueled his reckless bravado as a young conscript in the Tsar's army and caused his heart to race, his blood to surge and mind to focus.  Rather this new fury was a numbing, paralyzing force that tightened his stomach and made his mind stumble into black places never before entered.  Pop.  Fear ripped his confidence with sharp claws; curled him into a tight ball and jammed him even further beneath the upended machinegun cart.  With what thought remained, Igor concentrated on gaining control and dispelling the fear.  He clenched his teeth and clinched his arms across his chest in an effort to stop the spasms racking his body after each pistol shot.  But his body, like the Konarmia, could not be calmed.  Pop.

* * *

Igor's Shelter

 Transition

Following the description of Igor's fear, I wrote several paragraphs telling how he and the Konarmia arrived in this situation.  I gave a brief description of the Battle of Zamosc, the greatest cavalry since Napoleonic times, and the aftershock of the Bolshevik's defeat.  Following this paragraph, I returned to Igor's plight.

* * *

     Beams from a dozen electric torches swept the meadow near Igor's hiding space and continued to move ever closer.  From the cover of his overturned tachanka, Igor watched through splintered floorboards as the lights converged on a stack of bodies. He sucked in his breath and cringed as cries of wounded men and horses were silenced.  Pop.  

   Closing his eyes, Igor mouthed a prayer remembered from childhood and then wondered how often the same words were being uttered by men who had just desecrated churches, burned ikon and swore there was no God.

      Pop.  Igor opened his eyes as the flash of light spilled across his shelter.  He held his breath as the searchers progressed around the ruined battlefield, prodding bodies with sabers and bayonets to find those still alive. 

     Pop.  Small caliber.  Pop.  Point blank.  Pop.  Execution. 

     Biting his lips and tasting blood Igor whimpered a prayer when the Poles halted and made cursory jabs at the corpse lying beside his hiding place.  His eyes were still wide when they reflected the light.

* * *

Beta Readers' Reaction

When I presented this scene to my Writers' Group, I got mixed reactions.  The males expressed positive and helpful comments, while the females were not so supportive.  One went so far as to say I should have given her a trigger warning, since she hates war and any story connected with it.  My initial impulse was to shoot back, "Hey, I'm that into your genre either."  However, I simply nodded and accepted her critique, such as it was, and was content my writing had an effect.