Every time I close my eyes I see them, my family, I have to make it.
its all down to us solders. 'Time to get out on the field men,' we trudge warily through red stained mud, I spot my mate and shoot him a frustrated look we laugh. Gas? "gas quick men get your masks on," the dreaded masks are stuffy and horrible. just over the hill are flocks. Oh how i desire to be back on the family farm with no worry about war. A built roars in my ear bringing me out out of my daze. The big question.WILL I SURVIVE???