Yesterday morning I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept at all. My entire body hurt and I was exhausted. I realized that I had been tossing and turning all night due to a fucked up dream.
I found myself among an Army unit very similar to my old one, but with nobody I recognized. I was clearly a replacement and was sent to the front lines of the conflict. I had no gear, no clothes beyond what I wore and my rifle had been lost somewhere in shipping. I was frantic as the enemy assaults hit like waves and I continued to duck into bunkers and craters.
I continued to charge into fighting positions, flip over my dead comrades and check their weapons. Each time, the weapon was either broken, missing or otherwise unsuitable. The grim mess of congealed blood and organ tissue was mixing with the mud and ash of the area all over my clothes. I didn't have the sense to strip the dead of their armor, as it hadn't done them any good.
I never saw the enemy, but I heard and felt the tremors caused by their bombardments and their small arms fire. Everywhere in the din of battle I could hear the screams of the dying and the commands of the Sergeants leading our men over the bulkheads. It was so strange of me to not be in the fight.
I met with one soldier who was clearly not in the fight; I tried to get him to give me his rifle. He denied my request, which is smart for him. This entire time, I never lined anyone up in my sights, I never held an operating weapon and I never saw anyone I knew. It was pretty nuts.
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Anyway, yeah... there it is... I woke up feeling like 217 pounds of smashed ass... I slept much better last night.
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