WW1 Victory

Dead bodies lying in the bottom of the trench.

Stench of rotting flesh.

Blood spattered on uniforms.

Bullets in the sandbags.

Silence, no shooting or sound.

Rats and lice crawling over bodies

Sun shining over but fog smothering it.

The last bomb had been dropped and the last shot had been fired. Bright sunlight shone at last,
piercing through the fog and steam to hit the faces of the soldiers. The celebration had ended and
now there was silence. Everyone, dead or alive, lay sleeping after the long battle. Men were proudly
wearing their uniforms even with the dry blood spattered all over them. Shells and shrapnel had
penetrated the thick layers of beige sandbags and grains of sand slowly drained out making a pile on
top of the muddy ground. Looking towards the horizon, there was only bare ground. No trees, no
grass, and no wildlife. War had ravaged the land and no animals went there, no plants dared to grow
because of the deep, black craters engraved in the land and the ammunition stuck in the dirt. The
stench of thousands of dead corpses wafted through the air as they rotted in muddy pits. The
battlefield would be left as it was, like a museum. Rats and rodents would stay feasting on the tons
of bodies left, with no regards for a burial. Too many to count and too many to bury separately.