Kylesar1
This is my loudest bork
Soldiers are tasked with the defense of their country, or the invasion of other countries. There's nothing more brave than standing your ground and holding your position with bullets flying at you, mines at your feet, snipers taking off heads, tanks steamrolling through everything, and everything exploding around you.
The screams, the gunshots, the explosions, the yelling haunts the soldier's ears, while dead bodies, blood, and erupting dirt haunts their sights. Their family, pictures, possessions lie in their heart and their ultimate goal of survival supposedly lie in their future. The soldier longs to return to their normal lives, free of the constant threat of instant death
But how will they make it back home and their normal life?
Their only saving grace is the trench. Dug deep, fortified and supplied for the long haul, these become their residence for a while. Their heads must be kept down, lest a well-placed bullet spell their untimely end. Sleep is hard to catch, and you pray you never get god-forsaken order of charging across the no-man's land. Food isn't there for the taste. Food is survival. McDonald's looks like gourmet. Eating nothing but beans and stale bread, and drinking from canteens, a soldier's life is never an easy one. The only thing keeping the trenches from being blown to bits are the mounted machine guns and the raw awareness of those next to you
The screams, the gunshots, the explosions, the yelling haunts the soldier's ears, while dead bodies, blood, and erupting dirt haunts their sights. Their family, pictures, possessions lie in their heart and their ultimate goal of survival supposedly lie in their future. The soldier longs to return to their normal lives, free of the constant threat of instant death
But how will they make it back home and their normal life?
Their only saving grace is the trench. Dug deep, fortified and supplied for the long haul, these become their residence for a while. Their heads must be kept down, lest a well-placed bullet spell their untimely end. Sleep is hard to catch, and you pray you never get god-forsaken order of charging across the no-man's land. Food isn't there for the taste. Food is survival. McDonald's looks like gourmet. Eating nothing but beans and stale bread, and drinking from canteens, a soldier's life is never an easy one. The only thing keeping the trenches from being blown to bits are the mounted machine guns and the raw awareness of those next to you
