Echoes of the Trenches

The mud. It is the first thing you remember. Thick,

cold, and smelling of death. Then the artillery starts.

A constant drumbeat that rattles your very soul. You look at the man next

to you. You see the same terror in his eyes. But in that

terror, there is a bond. A brotherhood forged in fire.

Sgt. Miller crawls past, his face a mask of grim determination.

He does not have to say it. We all know what comes next.

The survival instinct kicks in. It is not about glory. It is about