Happiness is a suit of armour that protects a solider from the gunshots and blood.

It is the sound of the enemy falling over the dead grass and laying still, eyes wide open. Gripping your own dog tag just make sure you’ll still alive.

Happiness is when the letters arrive right before a surprise attack. Holding onto the crumpled up paper, stuffed in a random pocket, hoping you will be able to write back.

It is finding a hole underneath a tree, big enough for you and your friend. And deep enough that you are buried in the earth like a worm squirming around.

Happiness is watching the sun fall every night, hands held, eyes closed and being able to say you survived another day.