Creative Writing: The Western Front

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It has been a week since I have reached the front. The conditions in the trenches are deplorable and even worse than I expected them to be. My senses seem to have become numb to the ceaseless barrages of shells and artillery fire which pummel the trenches all day and night. Gas attacks have become a routine occurrence, and it is almost out of habit now that I swiftly slip on my mask and secure it for dear life whenever someone yells the dreaded cry of “GAS!” I have seen people who do not get their masks on in time or do not fasten them properly. They choke and they gag as the infernal gas excruciatingly consumes them and then they drop to the dirt, never to get up again. Witnessing this once is incentive enough for me to always keep my mask

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