Thank you

Grey. Swirling shades of grey made up the majority of the morning sky. They matched my emotions perfectly, the swirling shades making me feel sick as the revelation of my own depression was made more and more apparent with each passing second. The air was cold, I could see my breaths, barely. The fatigue made it hard for me to process anything other than killing difficult. The orchestral sound of wings beating against the air signalled the crows that fluttered overhead, circling the skies before they feasted upon the corpses that littered the ground above me. The trenches stunk of rotting flesh and blood. The two infusing to make the most sinfully wicked of scents, become a reality. I heard shouts off in the distance, must be more bodies about to throw themselves into the barren no man's land above. The following gunshots proved my hypothesis to be correct, and the shouting of English words helped me to understand which side took the bullets. I let out a shaky breath, the heat of my respiration landing nicely upon my calloused and grime ridden hands as I went to wipe my face. What was I doing here, why was I doing this to other people. My thoughts stopped themselves as I felt a slight pinch on my toes. I look down to see the pleasant sight of a scraggly rat, chewing on my toes. It stung, but I didn't care, no pain well and truly hurt me anymore. My soul was already dead, just had to wait for my body to catch up. The rat scarpered as I heard the sound of boots squelching into the torn up, blood covered soil that was now the pathway to one of the many bunks that I resided in. The sound of wet footsteps became closer and eventually stopped. I looked up to see the stern facial features of the sergeant glaring down at me. I awaited his words, knowing full well what he wanted of me. I stood up and saluted. "Sergeant." I said, trying to sound not quite as low as I felt.

"Peterson." He looked at me, and then at my boots, picking them up he threw them at me. Might as well have been throwing a pair of bricks at me, that's how much it hurt me. "Get your god damn boots on, The krauts are making another charge across the no man's land, and we need every man up there doing there doing their duty. Which also includes you." He barked, making me understand that he was the dominant one here, oh well. I laced up my boots after putting them on and straight away a rifle was thrust into my arms. This gun…when will I ever be rid of it. The sergeant turned around and began walking, and I followed. Maybe this time…maybe.

The no man's land looked worse than last time, the soil was sodden with fresh blood, and that showed more than the brown of the dirt. The bodies were just piled upon each other, a veritable human pyramid of dead flesh, that was being feasted on by the crows and rats that plagued these walkways. The smell got worse the higher up you stuck your nose. The smell of decay. It made me sick, on more than one occasion. A volley of shots were fired and I heard the tell-tale sound of my friend shouting his nonsense guessing he was called up here too. "Hey Peterson, get your scrawny ass up here and help me out ey." Definitely Alfie. I hopped up next to him and pulled back the bolt on my gun, sure enough, I saw the onslaught of German bodies being thrown at us. What a waste of life…I pulled the trigger.

I saw his face. As the bullet ripped through his chest, the look of shock and then terror was very apparent upon his facial features as he realised his life was over. He let out a scream, like most of the men that were shot around him did. Their blood littering the floor as they dropped like the raindrops that started to fall all around us. I felt sick again. I pulled back the bolt pressed on the trigger, and watched as more men died by my hands. Pull, click, kill, pull, click, kill. The sick repetition of my actions making me fall further and further into the devils sick embrace, bet he was laughing at me right this second, yeah, we'll be meeting each other face to face soon enough. One of the Germans seemed to know he was defeated and just stood there. No shots were fired, and everything went silent…then came Alfie. I heard Alfie next to me laugh a little as he fired the shot, the cranium of the enemy defeatist exploding in an array of blood. And that made me feel like turning around and shooting him in the head, the sick bastard…"Ha, yes! That's ten!" Screamed Alfie at the top of his lungs, I held back my anger and instead aimed down my sights, and to my horror, up came another wall of bodies, and those bodies soon fell. I couldn't understand why, all they do is carry on fighting and they carry on dying. I felt myself tear up, why? Nothing made sense in this world anymore, and I felt each time I fired my gun I lost more of my humanity, like I was turning into something less, maybe I was. Maybe…

"Gas! Everyone masks on!" I heard someone shout from behind me and sure enough, the yellow fog began to appear from around the corner. As quickly as possible I put my mask on, and turned to see a gagging Alfie beside me. His mask was nowhere to be seen, and I watched in horror as he became engulfed by the cloud of yellow, his screams of pain as he hacked up his own burning insides, his skin beginning to blister and peel, his screaming turning into choking as he couldn't breathe, he turned to look at me before dropping to his knees, his eyes tearing up as his squeals of terror and pain intensified, eyes looking at me, pleading for me to save him. I froze up, I didn't know what to do and I instead just stood there watching him slowly burn from the inside out. I took a step forward finally deciding to act upon what was happening, extending my arm almost enough to drag him out, then a masked German landed right in front of me. I didn't know what else to do…so I ran. I didn't look back, my eyes watered from the loss of my friend, the memory burning inside my mind. My last thoughts of him were of how sick he was. Why am I still alive? I kicked up so much dirt as I heard the Germans shouting behind me, bullets flying everywhere. I couldn't stop running, I wouldn't, not until I was more or less safe.

I stopped, hypocritically, spotting some of my comrades hobbling along. One was wounded badly and the other seemed insistent on carrying him out of this. I pulled out my pistol…they were going to die anyway, it was the humane thing to do. I carried on sprinting until I saw yet another group of soldiers, all priming their weapons, focusing down the one path that I was walking up. They saw my clothes and moved aside, and I joined them. One of them looked at me with the purest of sorrows I could have ever laid my eyes upon in my life. He must have only been sixteen at most…poor lad.

The first of the Germans made his way around the corner, and sure enough he was killed. Then another came, and another. We fired so many shots but they had so many numbers. With each shot we fired we lost more and more people, but we were all stupid, firing volley after Godforsaken volley at them. Time seemed to have slowed down, the blood of the men I was fighting with spattering against my pale skinned face, never before had I felt so deaf from all the fighting that was going on around me, I couldn't hear anything, the parting groans, the gunshots…it just wasn't audible, after a while though, I heard one thing. The sixteen year old lad dropped beside me, his face contorting with pain. I gave him one look, and fired a shot into his skull, I then turned and ran as the last of the men dropped dead. I ran and ran and stopped. A hot, exquisitely rich pain exploded inside my thigh, and I dropped. I turned to look at the sky, the same old grey. Just like me. I took off my gas mask, allowing myself to breathe in the fullness of the cold, dirty, disgusting air. It was beautiful. I saw the face of a German stood over me as he primed his pistol. He aimed it at me, and I could have sworn he took on the form of an angel. "Thank you…"