Free Doveland by Martha Moore

no man’s land. Both sides huddled inside the trenches to avoid the bitter cold winds. Clovis and Homer watched from their lookout as the cold rain dripped through the tree foliage above them, saturating their feathers. With the lack of role models, they sometimes emulated the behavior of the troops to survive the elements.
    â€œI have a good idea!” announced Homer.
    â€œWhat?” Clovis asked while shivering.
    â€œWhy don’t we dig our own trench in the ground like the allies to keep warm?”
    â€œOkay, do you think it will work?”
    â€œS-s-sure, I’m freezing.”
    Into the woods they went to find a perfect location. The cold drizzle turned to sleet as they hurriedly began to dig into the frozenmud. They turned around, back to back, only to backlash each other. When that didn’t work, they stood side by side and began working their claws into the frozen mud. They worked together until they prepared a small furrow at an angle they could exit.
    â€œThis will be better than a tree nest. You’ll see!” bragged Homer.
    When it was large enough for both of them to slide down, Homer pulled an evergreen twig over their opening as they slid down inside. Soon, they began to relax in their warm environment, protected from the north winds.
    â€œYou are one smart grouse, Homer!”
    â€œA partridge, Clovis, did I tell you I come from a smart line of partridges?”
    â€œHow can you be related to so many birds?”
    When Clovis heard no answer, he knew Homer had fallen asleep in a warm comfortable environment.
    The next morning, ground artillery commenced at dawn, awakening the birds.
    Overnight, several inches of snow had fallen above them.
    â€œIf it’s already daylight, how come it is so dark in here?” asked Clovis.
    â€œAre my eyes open?” Is it still night? First, my hearing goes, now I can’t see!” shrieked Homer.
    â€œCalm down, Homer, it is too dark in here to see.”
    â€œWe’re buried alive?”
    â€œRise above it, Homer, and help loosen the branch.”
    Clovis tried to peck at the hard pieces of ice glued to the pieces of evergreen.
    â€œMy beak is numb,” slurred Homer.
    They finally pecked a small hole through the ice and soft snow crumbled in.
    â€œI can breathe again!” sighed Homer.
    Finally, they emerged out of the small hole, one at a time, and flapped the snow off their wings. Clovis began to criticize Homer.
    â€œIf it had been rain, I suppose the smart partridge side of your family would have drowned us!”
    â€œRise above it, Clovis!” he retorted.
    Clovis began to laugh at Homer.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?”
    â€œNothing really, it’s just that those squishy combs over your eyes are frozen stiff.”
    â€œWell, the feathers on your head would be frozen if you had any.”
    They both began to laugh at each other with cold numb beaks, glad to be alive.
    Later that day, they returned to the sidelines to find the intensity of warfare gradually decreasing once again. Both sides of the battlefield were huddled deep inside the trenches to shield themselves from the bitter cold winds. Clovis and Homer found a warm lookout in a nearby underbrush.
    It was the second Christmas into the war, which meant another holiday truce. The grenadier and his friends gathered around a small fire to keep warm, while Clovis and Homer chose to remain in their warm underbrush and stay out of trouble this holiday.
    As the weather grew warmer and spring was approaching once again, Clovis and Homer set out in search of enemy carrier pigeons delivering messages. While they were taking the message out of the canister, they noticed another flyer overhead. There was a change in the pattern of communication. Enemy carriers were being liberated in pairs. Their strategy had to change. They would work alone, and meet back at the lookout, unless something went wrong. This strategy worked for weeks. One day