The mud clung to every crack. The constant shrill thump of artillery in the distance was a grim harbinger that life here was tenuous. We huddled together, searching for strength in each other's faces. The stillness between the bursts of fire was more soul-crushing than the chaos itself. Every sound could be an foe, every shadow a hidden sniper. Sta
Voices from the Trenches
The muck clung to every crack. The constant shrill clang of artillery in the distance was a grim harbinger that life here was precarious. We huddled together, hoping for strength in each other's faces. The stillness between the bursts of fire was more terrifying than the chaos itself. Every noise could be an foe, every shadow a hidden sniper. Survi
Voices from the Trenches
The sludge clung to every crack. The constant deafening rattle of artillery in the distance was a grim harbinger that life here was precarious. We huddled together, searching for solace in each other's faces. The quiet between the barrages of fire was more terrifying than the chaos itself. Every noise could be an threat, every shadow a hidden assai