Narrative/descriptive piece about someone in war. There was always the steady bombing of enemy or allied artillery in the distance. Its was just quiet enough to not be at the forefront of your mind but close enough that sleep always evaded you. Sam lockwood hated war, Back home in Illinois they sold it to him as adventure and glory but so far it was just blood, mud and sleepless nights. It was his own fault of course, that he feel victim to this sneaking trap but oh well, what could he do now other than serve his time. Sam lay back looking up at the stars, his body in the cold mud. Being a lowly foot soldier Sam was entitled to nothing and was merely cannon fodder for the enemy, at least he felt this way. “Sam, you still there?” shouted out someone from a neighbouring foxhole. …show more content…
That's how bad it had gotten, he was so acclimatised to death and the thought of dying that his life seemed worthless even to himself. “Alright boys time to go,” yelled the sarge. It was time to move out again, wearing soggy boots and filthy kit. Most of the platoon didn't take off their boots out of fear of the common plague amongst us soldiers, Trench foot. Sam slung his bag over his shoulder, people instantly thought that when you say army its long marches and heavy packs, but Sam’s platoon was so underprepared that their bags were almost devoid of anything useful. It was typical of the army, during winter they would give you desert kit so you would be wearing singlets in the