It was October 17,1914
He was breathing rapidly unable to think because of the bombs deafening sounds, he was sitting there back against the trench wall Lee Enfield laying there beside him covered in mud and blood as he was too. The bandage had gone red on his side again blood running threw. He sat there curled up into a ball,eyes teared ,dirt and grit running down his face with each tear....Out of no where the officer yelled "on your fucking feet men" as his eyes widened he stumbbled to get up, "fix bayonets"and as he predicted it was time to storm the next trench the fourth and final.With every nerve in his body starting to scramble, trying to focus and process what was going to happen. The whistle blew loudly, louder than the bombs.All of the men started climbing up the ladders he was pushed around by the other soldiers, almost jumping to the ladder, but shortly it was his turn. Each step he took up the ladder the more the possibility of dying grew bigger, not paying attention his hand slipped and he fell gracefully....A loud thud. Everything was a blur and a loud ringing in his ears, all he could see was the officer's mouth moving but no words coming out.