16 April 2012
Crouching in the mud, up to my knees in it. Its black and wet, squelching and slurping with each readjustment of my tired feet. My head rests on my slowly rising and falling, battered to soaking by the smug horizontal rain that allows no shelter from it, chest. It's hard to smile in these dark days and as i look around i realise this is hell. The trenches all full of stagnant sludge; mostly earth and water, partly external contaminants added by the inhabitants of this hole. They have a choice to go but they all stay and they all stay down for lifting your head means risking the bullets that rip through the ever-constant spray. Their screams ring out and cut through the pitter patter, the loose bullets, not the weeping, cowering, crying soldiers.
Night is coming. Night is sweet. Its quiet and safe. You're out of the kill zone for a while. But it's short lived. When your eyes open to the bloody morning sun beating down on the bloody battlefield shimmering on the bloody pools of water randomly formed on the bloody ground.
And you now realise the full extent of you're troubles..
Because it's only monday. So until friday comes and you can get off work for the weekend... You're pretty much f***ed.
Hell • Opuss № I