Creative Writing 2.4
World War I has hit. It has now been two years; this unsettled conflict was only supposed to last 100 days. Shells and gunfire are not all that we are afraid of, for winter is coming.
His hands tremble as the icy wind bites at his bare fingertips. Night watch must have started as he leaves his frozen post with the sun setting at his back. The frosted mud cracks underfoot as he returns to a temporary home in the safety of the concrete hard trenches. Indents of the standard service provided footwear follow behind as a shadow of his movements.
Their booming voices break the eerie silence of the once serene night. The lack of brazier causing an uprising between gown men for there would be no tea or coffee tonight to cut …show more content…
It seams appropriate as our last night alive to have a taste of what our murderous deaths would be like, the darkness that enfolds over us now shall be one that may last a lifetime. All I wish is for it to be over, for one day it shall.
As morning comes it should bring the pleasure of living for another day. Only it seems to prolong my overdue expiration day in the field of war. I wish to see them again one last time my precious wife and daughter. She was so young when I left although I can still sense her little hands gripping my thumb with all her might. Those loving eyes just like her mothers are indented in my mind.
Over the front we must go. To charge the German’s awaiting army forces, through the leftover mud and fallen snow we must go. We shall dye the blissful unpigmented ground a crimson red with the blood of the enemy. But many of ours shall sit blood-soaked in what we call no mans land never to be returned to the ones they love. Some will survive but many will fall at the hands of our countries …show more content…
A reprisal camp as they were called was the camp of the dead. Soldiers of all ethnicities marched in but never out, hollowed eyes followed movement although never made any for themselves. Mass graves lined with the decomposing lives of people I once knew.
We were crowed into a room like chickens in cages waiting for the day of slaughter. Physiological implements spread through the broken like wild fire; men who were once strong now screaming mad. Many committing themselves to the barbed wire fence that blocked then from freedom, skin ripped to shreds in the moment of their fall. A slow painful death that left them to bleed into the oblivion, their faces unrecognisable, their minds changed forever the horror they saw never to be wiped from history. I now wish I had made that decision to leave, only to escape the nightmares of history that haunt my
World War I has hit. It has now been two years; this unsettled conflict was only supposed to last 100 days. Shells and gunfire are not all that we are afraid of, for winter is coming.
His hands tremble as the icy wind bites at his bare fingertips. Night watch must have started as he leaves his frozen post with the sun setting at his back. The frosted mud cracks underfoot as he returns to a temporary home in the safety of the concrete hard trenches. Indents of the standard service provided footwear follow behind as a shadow of his movements.
Their booming voices break the eerie silence of the once serene night. The lack of brazier causing an uprising between gown men for there would be no tea or coffee tonight to cut …show more content…
It seams appropriate as our last night alive to have a taste of what our murderous deaths would be like, the darkness that enfolds over us now shall be one that may last a lifetime. All I wish is for it to be over, for one day it shall.
As morning comes it should bring the pleasure of living for another day. Only it seems to prolong my overdue expiration day in the field of war. I wish to see them again one last time my precious wife and daughter. She was so young when I left although I can still sense her little hands gripping my thumb with all her might. Those loving eyes just like her mothers are indented in my mind.
Over the front we must go. To charge the German’s awaiting army forces, through the leftover mud and fallen snow we must go. We shall dye the blissful unpigmented ground a crimson red with the blood of the enemy. But many of ours shall sit blood-soaked in what we call no mans land never to be returned to the ones they love. Some will survive but many will fall at the hands of our countries …show more content…
A reprisal camp as they were called was the camp of the dead. Soldiers of all ethnicities marched in but never out, hollowed eyes followed movement although never made any for themselves. Mass graves lined with the decomposing lives of people I once knew.
We were crowed into a room like chickens in cages waiting for the day of slaughter. Physiological implements spread through the broken like wild fire; men who were once strong now screaming mad. Many committing themselves to the barbed wire fence that blocked then from freedom, skin ripped to shreds in the moment of their fall. A slow painful death that left them to bleed into the oblivion, their faces unrecognisable, their minds changed forever the horror they saw never to be wiped from history. I now wish I had made that decision to leave, only to escape the nightmares of history that haunt my