A Soldier
By: Darcy Jones | Merthyr Tydfil Writing Squad
I am standing here in this trench full of oozing mud. It’s been raining for the last three to four hours. I’m soaking wet.
The whistle went, German tanks came out firing shells and the British tanks came out of hiding. I went to get out of the trench. My eyes went black for a second. Then I found myself lying on the floor, my arm bleeding badly.
Best thing about a wound is it means I’ll be safe in hospital for a while.
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