John doesn’t belong here. He didn’t want to fight in the Great War in the first place then he was ripped out of battle and dumped in an alien land filled with soldiers from every era of human history. Haunted by the death of his wife and desperate to get back to his son, John joins the rag-tag group of soldiers, who have fourteen days to reach the silver gates.
Danger lurks everywhere and in the most bizarre forms. Sharks in the trees, subterranean wolves and even John’s body turns against him when his hand melts into his machine gun, leaving him crippled and defenceless. His companions change too: the Maori with his plant abilities; the Celt who can run at incredible speeds; the Arab with his ability to read minds.
Struggling with their new abilities, the army cross a scarred plain littered with ancient battles and populated by surviving alien soldiers. To complete their challenge the Humans must win a battle and soon encounter a blue-shelled warrior-race, the Brakari, led by their all-powerful leader, Belsang, and the twisted General Panzicosta.
Allies are made and deals done, but time is running out and battle is imminent.
Each warrior must use their enhanced powers, but will John be able to fight and will the Humans survive?
A shape moved in the branches.
‘Who’s there?’ John shouted.
A naked man covered in paint leapt down. ‘Prohiba!’ he yelled as he landed.
‘Shit!’ John stumbled back.
‘Prohiba homusionem!’ the man’s wild eyes widened and he jabbed a three-pronged spear at John’s chest.
John was too surprised to be scared and his first thought was how lucky he’d just been for a piss or he would have ruined his trousers. The thought tickled him and he smiled.
‘Ego ridiculam?’ the man barked.
Who was this nutter? Probably some local farmer angry with the army for straying onto his land.
‘Sorry mate, I don’t understand you,’ John lifted the machine gun off his shoulder and checked the magazine was locked in. ‘Je na comprend pas.’
‘Quid agis homusionem?’ the farmer barked, hopping from foot to foot in his sandals.
‘Listen, I don’t understand you. I’m just trying to get back… home,’ John shoulders dropped: he’d had enough of all this fighting.
The painted man stared at John and twisted his head in a manner that unnerved him. He had seen it before: a lad in his battalion, Miller, had lost all emotion: no smile; no fear. The next day he bayonetted his commanding officer and was shot running across no-man’s land in his underpants.
‘Don’t you try nothing!’ John lowered his gun.
Where has the time gone? It’s been almost three months since the gates were opened and the first pledges streamed in for Darwin’s Soldiers. How our band of merry readers has grown since! Warm thanks to all our newest pledgers and generous patrons!
Deadline day approaches and I hope if we reach 50% we will be granted an extension – Darwin’s Soldiers will be published!
In the meantime, and with…
We’re growing in numbers! Hello to all the new members and welcome to the Darwin’s Soldiers clan. Thank you all - I am constantly surprised and humbled by your support and generosity.
It’s been a couple of months since I left John and the surviving characters from Darwin’s Soldiers in their bizarre world and I miss them (spoiler – quite a few die!). I can’t wait to get back in there and work with…
Darwin’s Soldiers is 30% funded! Time to let off some fireworks, drink some ale and dance like a loon! A big thanks to Lynette and the Weekes posse and everyone else who has pledged this month!
Our clan is growing stronger - from Shanghai to Copenhagen, Frating to Felixstowe - support for Darwin’s Soldiers is growing and we’re looking for the 50th pledger to join us on the journey.
Thanks to you all, Darwin’s Soldiers is a quarter of the way to publication!
Going by the Land’s End to John O’Groats analogy we’re in the Midlands now – ancient Mercia. Did anyone bring a metal-detector? Let’s find a hoard! Or maybe we’ll dig up Utred’s sword?
It’s been an interesting journey so far. Like the hobbits leaving Hobbiton, I’m down to one breakfast a day and have nearly run out…
Darwin’s Soldiers is 20% funded! Thank you!
We’re one-fifth of the way along the journey, which means if we’re running from Land’s End to John O’Groats, we’ve just made it to Bath. So, bring on the Midlands!
Please share this page with anyone who would love to have their name in the book, or any writers who would love to see their short story published. (Andy C. I’m looking forward to reading…
Thank you for pledging your support and for your help in bringing Darwin’s Soldiers to publication!
My shed at home has a brass ‘Captain’ plaque on the door and is full of rusty implements, but this shed is a more relaxed affair. Here we have a thick carpet on the floor and well-worn leather chairs to sink into while we chat and I answer your questions. Take your shoes off and relax.
These people are helping to fund Darwin's Soldiers.