We went to the front lines in the morning

Our rifles on our backs

Our grubby uniforms clinging to our skin

The yellow sun hung over the distant horizon

Like the yolk of the eggs we could have had for breakfast

Suddenly

We hear something

Footsteps?

Engines?

Gunfire?

We stop

Everything is quiet

Like the grave hanging over our heads

In the middle of this never ending war

We wait until we can wait no longer

Then we begin to march again

Then it happens

Machine guns

Thunder and rattling chains heard all around

They know we’re here

We scatter

My best friend and I cower behind

A dusty pile of charred and smashed rubble

Where the local village used to be

I raise my rifle to my eye and see the face of the enemy

Pale and grimy under a helmet one size too big

Just like mine

I am hesitant

But he sees me too

Damn

I pull the trigger and fire flashes before my eyes

The face of the enemy winces in pain

And falls

Paler than before

The enemy is moving in

There seems to be no escape

I have one last weapon

I pull the pin and reach my

Sweaty

Bloody

Dirty

Hand back to throw the grenade

Oops

Back