The guns fired for what seemed like the hundredth time.  Back and forth the screams of agony pierced the ominous air.  The smell of gunpowder overwhelmed the men on both sides. Soldiers fired back and forth as the numbers on both sides began to diminish.  “How you holdin’ up,” Peter screamed across the trench to Alex.
“As fine as you can be, when bullets are whizzin’ past your head,” Alex replied hoping that his humor masked the fear that was overtaking him.
“Don’t worry we’ll be out of here before you know it,” Peter said hoping that his assurance wasn’t false.  He had promised his mother that he would protect his younger brother and bring him home safely.  They had no choice but to go to war,  Alex had just turned eighteen when the draft happened.  Both brothers pushed their backs harder against the hard dirt wall of the trench. They must have thought the harder they pushed up against the wall the safer they were.  The cold dirt felt nice in the hot sun.  They took turns standing up and firing, while one was shooting the other was reloading. 
Peter stood up after reloading his M1917 revolver.  He looked across the battlefield into the ocean-blue eyes of one of the German soldiers.  He felt a ping of sadness inside his chest.  He thought of the possible son and daughter that was waiting for their father to come back home.
“What you waitin’ for? Aren’t you gonna shoot already,” Alex yelled.  Peter hadn’t realized it but he hadn’t started shooting.
“I don’t think I can do it,” Peter replied.
“What you talkin’ ‘bout?” Alex questioned wondering what was up with his brother.  Peter felt that it wasn’t right to take someone else’s life, but it was his job to kill.  So he reluctantly looked through his viewfinder, and aimed at the soldier.  Ready to pull the trigger. 
“I can’t do this,” Peter whispered to himself.  He took one last look and closed his eyes.  He thought that he would feel better about himself if he didn’t watch the soldier die.  He pulled the trigger, but his shot sailed off target because a loud noise startled him.  Peter turned to where the noise came from.  It looked like an explosion had erupted about a hundred feet to their right.  He knew immediately what had happened.  Peter squatted down behind the wall of the trench to face his brother.
“What was that?” Alex asked Peter.
“Looks like someone stepped on a landmine.”
“Do you know who it was?” Alex inquired.
“I didn’t recognize the guy’s face,” Peter replied.  Alex knew when his brother was lying.  Peter was always a bad liar.
“Who was it Peter? I know you’re lyin’,” Alex snapped.
“Look at me Alex,” Peter said with seriousness in his voice.  “You just promise me that you ain’t gonna look,” Peter said somewhat shaky.  Peter knew that if Alex looked over the trench wall it would be the most horrific sight he would ever see.  Alex slowly stood up from his crouching position.
“No! It’ll be too much, you ain’t ever gonna be the same.” Peter screamed in agony.
When Alex’s eyes finally cleared the trench wall he saw to his right his best friend Thomas.  He had been the one that had stepped on the land mine while trying to advance.  His right leg was completely gone from the hip down.  The loss of blood was too gruesome to describe.  The life in his friend's eyes slowly began to fade, as he struggled to survive.
“It can’t be! We have to go and try and save him,” Alex stated urgency filling his eyes.
“Alex we have to stay here, there ain’t nothin’ we can do for Thomas,” Peter replied hoping to convince his brother.
“You gonna just watch him die! If you ain’t gonna do nothin’ ‘bout it, then I will.” Alex spoke with tears pouring down his face.  The truth was that if they were to go out there they would be exposing themselves to the gunfire from the German side.  It would be extremely risky and the chances of getting shot would be pretty high.  Alex stood, his back pushed up against the trench wall, ready to go.  Within moments he was gone, out into the open. 
“Alex don’t!” Peter yelled after him.
No response. Alex ran with all his might towards his friend.
“What are you doin’? I’m a goner, get outta here while you still can,” Thomas spoke in a soft whisper.
“I’m gonna get you outta here,” Alex replied.  Alex picked up Thomas and started running as fast as he could.  He could hear the gunfire all around him.  Alex’s running strides pounded against the grass.  Sweat was pouring down his face, his eyes locked on Peter.  He was almost back to the trench.  His legs burned.  Thirty feet, twenty feet, ten feet.  Peter was motioning for Alex to hurry up.  Just when Alex was about to make it to the trench he dropped to the ground with a thud.  He had been hit in the chest by crossfire.  Peter screamed and ran to pull Alex and Thomas into the trench.  Peter turned his head to look over to where the gunfire had come from.  He saw the soldier who had shot him.  He would never forget those ocean-blue eyes.
He pulled them in but it didn’t look good.  Thomas had lost too much blood, and the gunshot wound had hit Alex straight in the chest.  Peter placed a tourniquet on Thomas’s leg and tried to get Alex some medical attention.  It was only a matter of time before his promise would be broken.  He had tried to keep his brother safe, and had failed. 
Alex struggled to speak, but he managed to say “It’s okay Peter, I’ll die knowin’ I did the right thing.”  Alex closed his eyes and would never open them again.