The sludge clung to every crevice. The constant piercing thump of artillery in the distance was a grim harbinger that life here was fragile. We huddled together, searching for solace in each other's faces. The silence between the bursts of fire was more terrifying than the chaos itself. Every noise could be an foe, every shadow a hidden sniper. Sta

The mud clung to every crevice. The constant shrill clang of artillery in the distance was a grim constant that life here was fragile. We huddled together, hoping for comfort in each other's presence. The quiet between the bursts of fire was more oppressive than the chaos itself. Every whisper could be an foe, every shadow a hidden sniper. Survival

The sludge clung to every crack. The constant shrill rattle of artillery in the distance was a grim constant that life here was precarious. We huddled together, hoping for comfort in each other's presence. The stillness between the attacks of fire was more oppressive than the chaos itself. Every sound could be an enemy, every shadow a hidden assail