The night was cold as I stared in to the vague sky that lit the universe. I could only dream that one day I would get the chance to go home. Home that word is so unfavorable to me as I have no home my home is my company a bunch of soggy bottom drop outs who had nothing else to do, either this or shooting beer cans with their fathers 12 gauge. Which at this point doesn’t sound too bad? It’s cold very cold the kind of cold that goes deep deep down into your bones. As I tried to keep warm dropping down more into my foxhole. You would think shooting someone would be easy that’s what I thought to until you get the chance to stare into the eyes of a young werhmacht solider fresh out the Hitler youth. He’s crying out Führer help me help me.
I can’t seem too close my eyes to go to sleep. “what is it ashton you’ve been up forever. I know I just can’t sleep. I keep thinking of dieter that German solider who had no rank who signed up for no reason but to prove his loyalty. The same as us. Who gave us the right to deprive the wonders of life from that young soul? Who beared his first gun was going to be the gun that would do the same as we do unto him.
man you need to stop all of that if lt heard you he’d throw you in the stockade for treason. Now get some sleep. Sleep what sleep I repeated in my mind as I toss and turned in my foxhole. Sleep but a deep rest for the mind to wonder to timeless places of fortune.
GET UP UP AND AT IT. The LT yelled at us as to make a point I crawled put if my foxhole stretched the grabbed my m1. so LT whets the word. are we trapped or did the French resistance make it in time. I don’t know he said as he stared deep into my eyes. I pulled away and turned to my comrade. As they grabbed snow from there helmets and unclogged their weapons for combat use. They all looked at me as to seem that I was in charge I stepped aside for a second but their blade piercing eyes followed me. I fell over a stump extruding from the rigid top soil...