Last Hours in the Trench Oh, how bright the light is, in the early morning, as the sun starts to rise. I look down at my work.The large, deep ditch that runs as far as I could see, is nearly six feet deep; it is finished. I drop my small and rusty shovel and prepare to fight. It is now late in the day, but how late? I couldn’t really be sure. As smoke fills the sky, and another shell* lands not a yard from our forces. I look to my right, and there’s the new guy, eyes open wide and mouth moving silently, praying to any God that would hear him.
and cries tears of sadness, wondering why we’re here. I’ll always remember the look in his eyes, before another shell* ends his life. I am blown backwards, and nearly lose my arm. It’s time to finally take my stand. I’m called to no-man’s land. I take a drink of tainted tea, knowing that this drink would be my last. I stand, and start to climb out of that accursed pit, when I looked back at all the men. All my brothers under one flag,who were sitting in the mixture of wet mud and the blood of those around them.
or I will die trying. With a scream of anger and frustrationfor all the pain I and my brothers have been put through, I charge forward into the smoke. I barely make it three steps before I feel the metallic feel of bullets burrowed deep in my body. I drop my weapon, and fall onto the soft ground. I am facing up, barely breathing. I will die now, says my soul However, it is with my last breath that I see the bright morning sun shining down to me. Oh, how bright the light is. *artillery shell