The guns were shooting overhead, the sky was black with smoke. No birds were tweeting, nobody smiled.
There was no happiness. The explosions knocked you from your feet, from shells thrown in our trenches. Dead bodies scatter no-mans land, no easy way to retrieve them. Watching was the worst, you see them mown down by the bullets. Those poor, innocent lives were taken and shot up into heaven. The poppy fields mark the graves of those who died in battle. Those brave soldiers who died to protect your home and your country.