My heart was pounding out of my chest. The soldiers in my regiment had tear streaked faces along with patches of frostbite. The cold was unbearable. My toes and fingers went numb early on in the march. The post had come earlier that day, and many were broken from the words their loved ones sent them. The homesickness we felt was heartbreaking. Frozen, hungry and tired we marched along the hidden pine trails of the forest. My shoes had gaping holes in them, and it felt like every step was a stab in the heel. About a third of the regiment died from hypothermia during that fateful march. I watched them fall out of line into the snow with soulless eyes. The only reason why the rest of us made it, was because we found another regiment