Grim

Nothing can protect us from their weapons. It doesn’t matter how many trenches we dig to hide in, or how many grenades we throw, the enemy still seeks us out and hits our troops with bullets and bombs. I’ve seen men, friends, carried past me on stretchers bleeding out from a gunshot or now missing a limb because of a grenade, and I know that their screams will haunt me to my own grave. We are out here fighting a pointless war and suffering needlessly. The final outcome looks grim, for both sides. In war, there is no real winner.