@dafsdas
"I crouch in this muddy trench, rain drumming on my helmet. Bullets whistle past—each one a reminder I might not see tomorrow. Yesterday, I was just a farm boy; now, I’m a cog in this war machine. My hands tremble, not from cold, but fear. Will my letter reach Ma? I picture her by the radio, praying. The sergeant yells, 'Move!' My legs obey, though my heart screams to run home. History won’t remember me, but I fight anyway—for her, for hope, for a dawn I may never see."
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