There was the first hill and
We needed to cross over it
Before we could meet the others

The sun was high
The clouds few but
They were still able to cast dark shadows
Across the field we were advancing on

The knot in my stomach
From lack of food and
Water twisted in my stomach, like
Someone had stuck me with a 8 inch blade,
Their hand spinning just to mock me

Ahead of me there were
A few men whose names
I could not remember; I trusted them,
But I could not recall their names and
Was afraid to call out
To them to ask them how much farther

My memory - always a little blotchy - was
Now sharp and pristine. I could remember
Every article of clothing, every piece of
Equipment in my pack, and knew I would
Not hesitate when the first
Bullet came soaring past my head

I looked ahead
Saw the men advancing
And took a sip from my canteen and
Continued on

When I reached the
Camp
There were the bodies of
The dead and the wounded
Scattered throughout, most of them
Underneath a white linen
Tarp,
Moans echoing from within

I veered to the left of the
Wounded
And made my
Way to the barracks of
The soldier's still alive and
Capable

A cook passed me
And
I stopped him

"Where is
The front?" I asked

"The front?"

"Yeah"

"You look to *******
Clean to be headed to the front," he
Said with a smile.

"That's why I'm looking for it," I
Shot back, "I'm looking to get a
Little *****. These clean scrubs
Are getting on my nerves."

"Well alright," he said, "Just keep
Heading in the way your heading
And you'll hit it. Good luck."

He nodded to me and
Sauntered off, a large
Knife hanging off a leather cord
Tied to his twine belt

Some men
Are born to fight and
Die

Some men are meant
To mend the wounded
So they can fight
Again another day

And some men are
Meant to cook the food
For both of them

I kept on where
The cook told me to go
And as I continued on
I saw more and more soldier's, fit
And able to fight again in the morning

The time was around 4pm and
I hadn't eaten a thing since morning

The knot in my stomach continued to
Turn as the echoing vibration of shells
A couple miles away stirred the
Dusty air of the camp

I needed water
I needed sleep
I needed a woman but
I knew I wouldn't
Be finding one
Out here

"You look lost," a
Voice from behind me
Said.

I turned around to
See Nelson, one
Of the men I had rode in
With at base camp

"Well *******..." I
Wheezed grinning.

"When the hell did you get in?"
He asked.

"Just hiked in with
Some new meat. Think I saw
Them head for the mess hall, but I
Wanted to set my eyes on the
Lay of the camp."

"Good for you." He shook my hand
And brought me in for a hug
To pat me on the back. "Glad
You made it this far, didn't know if
I would see you past the beach."

"Nah, and let you fight this war
All by yourself?"

"Was getting worried I was gonna'
Have to," he stepped back, "Head to
The mess hall?" He pointed in a direction
Father north through the tented barracks

"Let's go," I agreed, "I'm starving."

"I bet."

We started off
North and
He patted my back again
As we walked

I peeked into the other tents
To see some men sleeping
With their rifles next
To their bunks and some of
Them playing cards or writing
To their wives or kids or girlfriends
Over-seas. Most of these men
Had never even had the chance to hold
A pencil, let alone write a ****** letter,
But when the time came to seek comfort
From family, their minds had
Adapted and pushed their intellect to
Achieve that comfort - their courage could
Only warm their souls
So much.