“Cold” I thought to myself. 

The cold mud on my face froze my lips and frostbitted my ears, the wound on my shoulder pulsing in pain. The artillery explosions in the distance made a light rumbling in the ground as I felt myself sinking into the darkness. “On your feet soldier, we're not done yet!” screamed a voice behind me. Suddenly, yanked up to my feet, the world of the battlefield flooded into my eyes.

 “It's just a flesh wound, you'll be fine” blurted out the infantry combat medic that I vaguely recognized as my friend Jeremiah as he was pouring antiseptic on my shoulder, grazed by a bullet. 

Then the familiar sight of warfare was right in front of me. German infantry was being picked off by snipers. American infantry units were falling like flies. Mustard gas scorched my lungs. War, an unholy sight where the depths of evil of mankind were able to surface. 

Jeremiah snipped off the suturing thread, threw my rifle to me, and sprinted to the next downed soldier. The wooden body of the rifle felt slick from the freezing mud that filled the warzone, I could no longer feel my tattered hands. 

“Advance!” screamed a general behind me as a wave of soldiers sprinted forward, I too would join them. I rushed to the next trench to escape the wave of bullets-- a wave of darkness and numbness overtook me as I fell to the ground, I would never see my loved ones again.