Rifle bullets flying and mortars screaming through the air I scuttled to the nearest indent made from the mortars. Sliding into the muddy hole I catch my breath while men scream in pain. As viscera and ichor goes flying through the air, I check my rifle to see if it is loaded. My breath wheezing I glance at men running and maxims mowing down men. A man slid into my ditch screaming at the top of his lungs, spittle flying everywhere, he died when a stray bullet hit him in the side of his temple. Smoke billowing into the air dulling my senses, I hear the distinct sound of the officers’ whistles signaling for all the footmen to fix bayonets to charge into the enemy trenches. Keeping my head down, my hands shaking, I fumble around my pack to get my bayonet on my rifle trying my darndest to not get spotted by those hell machines. My breath bated as I waited for the second whistle to signal for every man to get up and charge without care for their own well being. I was terrified. I straighten my back just a little bit more so I can run with all I have even though I am already beaten to a flesh bag of bones. Jumping up with me a bunch of men coming from a bunch more craters like mine scattering the battlefield. We run with all of our might to hope to live to see another day. Shrapnel and more bullets flying men drop like flies left and right. Miraculously I didn't get hit. Even though my clothes are ripped to shreds and muddy with dirt and blood, I charge. With a crazed look on my face I reach the trench and jump in without thinking I stab the man nearest to me. He whimpers in pain the soldier a mere boy. Maybe 17 in age. I realize what I have done and hesitate for a split second. The other soldier behind him screams and rushes me, as the kid slides of my bayonet dead. I struggle to lift my weapon and aim it towards the man. His entrenching shovel raised to kill. Pulling the trigger my rifle bucks and he drops lifeless to the ground. Soldiers file in behind me turning the bullet fight into a bloody fist fight using tooth and nail to survive. Another man knocks my rifle out of my hands and goes for another swing. He is stabbed from behind and goes down with a bloody gurgle. I pick u my rifle and load it as fast as i can before I aim at another man engrossed in punching one of my countrymen. Pulling the trigger my rifle bucks and the man flops down dead. I hear a clank next to me and see a small metal object hit the ground. Time slowed down and I watched with surprise and horror conflicting on my face as the object seemed to implode before fire slowly expanded like foam out towards me. Shrapnel flying out I was swept off my feet and out of the trench. Everything goes black. Groaning in pain I wake up and try to get up but find out I'm stuck in barbed wire and can't really move. Not only that but I realize that it's the middle of the night and no one is around. The ragged screams and stifflng sobs of wounded men echo around in the night. Shadows dancing in the night from small fires raging across the battlefield and tanks blown apart. Sitting up i carefully remove the barbed wire around me and stand up carefully. Stumbling around i turn towards the way i came and stagger slowly back to the trenches, back to my allies, hopping to survive another day. War is hell.

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