Thunderous explosions echoed throughout the sky, followed by a shining star that seemed to be climbing the heavens. However, after a few climbing moments, the bright star made an arc in the sky and started falling from the heavens. As the star moved closer down the ground, a sharp wheezing sound was silently emanating from the surroundings. This didn't last; as the star descended, the sound became louder. Thus, the silent wheezing sound became a scathing screech at the moment before impact.
The world rumbled as the star that descended crashed into the ground and exploded, creating a shockwave that undressed the surrounding forest, followed by a cloud of dark billowing smoke, leaving a humongous crater of eternal fire.
In the ground, in the sea of trenches, far from the point of impact, a person stood alone above the trench with a trench whistle in his hands. Side by side, the man observes, with no shots nor enemies in sight, he breathes a large amount of air, which he blows as hard as he can on the trench whistle.
As if the barren no-man's-land came to life, dozens, if not hundreds, of silhouettes responded to the trench whistle with only one goal in mind, and that was to make it across the fields and take over from the enemy side the enemy trench so that the army could advance further into the enemy territory.
Meanwhile, as the smoke from the point of impact was clearing up, a person stood up and looked over the trench. What he saw was forever ingrained in his mind. It was like an avalanche, a human avalanche that was coming to kill them. He glanced to the sides of his comrades and saw them disorganized and still recovering from the numerous artillery harassment for the past few hours, and so with a mouthful of air.
"Yankees, advancing on the front!!!" with a single shout from the man, the disorganized army looked in horror at the advancing enemy. However, it did not last long as they found their resolve to give up their life for the motherland.
Men of all ages, no matter their career, all grab a weapon, be it a cooking pan, a gun, a stick, or whatever they have; they hold as long as it can kill. With fear and courage in their hearts, they took up their positions, aiming down their sights and eventually pulling the trigger.
Amid the fields of no-man's-land, the enemy was pushing through. However, they were too late, as they did not expect the wind to be strong today, which dispersed the smoke screen that the explosion made earlier, and so they were now sitting ducks in the middle of the battlefield. Unfortunately, losses have been made, so progress must be made, and so they advanced with a heavy heart towards the other side of the trenches from which they came.
The first casualty came as the advancing army was met with a barrage of bullets; the ground was dyed red, flowers of death came, and a river of blood soon followed.
The army felt more fear with the enemy advancing into their trenches. However, bravery and courage are needed on this battlefield. After all, if they falter now, the enemy will get a breakthrough and spread its black wings over the meadows of the motherland. With it, their friends, families, and all the people they care about will perish in the sea of fire. This is why they cannot falter no matter the cost, and so even with calluses on their hands, injuries from all over their body, and hallucinations from sleep deprivation, they still hold on to their weapons, pulling the trigger.
After breaking through the barbed wire, the enemy poured into the trenches. The first one to enter stabbed their adversary with a bayonet from the rifle, to the horror of the person that was stabbed. The bayonet, even though highly sharp, did not go through correctly towards the flesh, and so the person pulled the trigger, which, a sound, echoed throughout the system of trenches. With horror evident in the eyes of the man that was stabbed, he grabbed the service pistol from his side, seeing the action of the man, the enemy or the one that stabbed attempted to pull out the bayonet. However, the man grabbed the rifle where the bayonet was attached, as if refusing to let the enemy pull out the bayonet.
With sweat dripping down his back, the enemy looked in horror at the adversary he just stabbed. Even in death, they are witty. However, his horror turned into surprise and back into horror as he saw the man smiling at him.
"Go to hell!" The man smiled and shouted at the enemy in front of him before he unloaded an entire magazine at the stomach of the enemy. The enemy blurted out a mouthful of blood before going down, while the other person also fell with a bayonet in his stomach.
Another man on the other side saw the events transpired. However, this man was vastly different from the others in the trenches; he was of a higher rank. He clicked his tongue, brought out his service pistol, and unloaded everything onto the people coming towards the trenches. One by one, they fell. Unfortunately, an enemy got past his sight and could aim its sight down and shoot him.
The officer groaned as the pain emanating from his shoulder was comparable to the extreme of all extremes. Nevertheless, even with a bleeding shoulder, he still used it to grab a magazine from his side pocket to replace the empty magazine in his service pistol. Unfortunately, days without sleep have caught up to him, as he did not notice an enemy approaching him. He only noticed it when a mouthful of blood came out of his mouth.
Now that he's been stabbed with his eyes losing light, he looked at the enemy that had stabbed him one final time. The enemy was smiling as he reached for his neck. Anger welled up inside him, but he found no strength to resist. The enemy grabbed and stole his medal of honor, the greatest shame and insult a soldier can ever feel and experience. With that final scene in his eyes, the officer finally lost consciousness.