Fifteen gruesome minutes later I somewhat limped out of the hole we named the medic center, grabbed my identical M14 that was mass produced to supply the thousands of soldiers fighting, sweat drenched helmet with dents on every square inch and rushed as fast as possible back to the battlefield.

“Head in, head in!” I catch the captain shouting as I approach the line of soldiers preparing to face most likely the last day of their lives.

“You ready?” I hear a taller, skinnier cadet nervously say as I regretfully slither into line with the rest of the soldiers.

“Yeah I guess this is what we have been training for,” I state trying to sound as confident and intimidating as possible, adjusting my rifle to fit comfortably strapped around my shoulder.

“What’s your name?” the skinny cadet inquiries as he gulps down some water.

“Ummm… John, John Locke,” I declare becoming louder and slightly more confident as every word spills out of my mouth, “You?”

“Thomas Hobbes, born in Westport.”

“What are you fighting for,” I inquiry to pass time.

“Liberty, for all people to live freely and equally,” he says in a confident tone while giving a slight grin of happiness slips out of the right side of his mouth.

I’m just fighting because I couldn’t find a job and possibly be part of the three branches of the government, I pondered to myself.

“CHARGE!” I hear the angry captain scream sounding as if he was using a megaphone.

I scatter forward almost stumbling over the dashing boots in front of me. I glance over to my right to make sure Thomas was still in sight to ensure myself that I will have an ally during the battle. Dirt spitting up into my face covering my eyes in slimy mud, brush my face off and unstrap the rifle from my shoulder and hold it tightly, nervous for the events that are about to occur. I dive into the slippery mud and slide next to a sandbag stack, taking cover from the bullets swarming the entire field. Examining my surroundings I see bodies flying to the ground, limbs being torn straight from soldiers corpses, and blood splattering onto trees from the wounded soldiers.

“John, we have to get somewhere safer.”

I spin around in startelement only to realize that it was Thomas laying on his back trying to catch his breath from the sprint of dodging bullets from the Germans. “Thomas!” I say just in excitement to see someone that I recognize.

“Hey, let’s head to that ditch over there for better shelter,” Thomas shouts like an old man without his hearing aids.

“Sure,” I mumble not acknowledging what I agreed to as Thomas leaps to his feet, sprints in a crouch, then dives into the man-made ditch carved from the soft ground.

“S**t!” I yell to myself jumping up and tripping my way to the ditch as bullets zoom past my head with the wind cutting next to my ringing ears.

“TAKE COVER!” Thomas exclaims as a grenade drops in front of our noses. Laying under the protection of the ditch.

Dirt accumulated, and piled onto our faces like gum stuck under a middle school desk. I raise my head from the edge of the ditch trying to look invisible. I raise the rifle loading its magazine with 20 gold bullets that were manufactured at a local factory. Then peaking the barrel of the gun out of the dreadful hole, glaring my left eye down the iron sight while closing the right fiercely, I spot a target slowly crouching toward a tree. Like a hunter spotting a deer in the open woods I pull the trigger cautiously, trying to keep my aim steady. Everything turns slow-motion as the bang of the gun blisters into my ears and through my head, the bullet shell is ejected from the right side of the M14 and grazes my arm with its blazing hot metal warming my skin. The bullet races toward the german and makes contact right through his chest. Stopping mid-stride the man collapses to the ground peacefully and is still. Everything snaps into reality and I fall back into the ditch with a feeling of adrenaline as well as slight sadness in my body.

“Let’s get out of here!” Thomas yells from the opposite side of the ditch followed by several gunshots coming from him with each shot making me go slightly more insane.

Without any words in return I gathered my rifle and backpack that now looked like a dirt ball and ran throughout the twisting tunnels. I check behind me making sure that Thomas was following behind me.

“A waterway,” he calmly says as I come up from behind him gasping for air feeling as if I was suffocating.

“It’s got to lead to some type of city, most likely Philly,” I said still breathing hard from the sprint.

“Let’s follow it, there is no way I am dying here, we are behind enemy lines, let’s get on our grounds again,” Thomas sighed.

Days of trudging along pass. My feet cramped up to the point where I can’t feel them, legs wobbling more with every step I take, about to collapse on the ground. I spot a smokestack puffing grimessing, grey clouds of pollution into the air.

“Thomas, a factory straight ahead,” I wheeze with the remaining energy in my limp, broken down body.

“Uhhhhhh,” I hear Thomas mumble in front of me.

“BANG!” a piercing gunshot from behind us is let loose.

The bullet makes contact on the back of Thomas’ dirty, long neck. He collapses like a rag doll and does not move. I limp my way over to him falling like a boulder to his right and begin to desperately say, “Thomas, Tom....” as I slowly drift aways knowing this is the end.

“BANG!” another golden pellet is fired from the opposite direction.

Looking around in curiosity I frantically search from where the bullet was shot from and where it made contacted. Slowly checking my body a sudden pain is inflamed throughout my entire body. Blood slowly oozing from the upper right part of my chest, losing oxygen throughout my body with ever quick, shallow breath I gasped for and my vision becoming blurry like cataracs were glued to my eyeballs. I slowly pass from reality as what looks like a factory worker approaches me with a gun.

“They were ally soldiers,”  young child laborers yell as I slowly sink into darkness.