The year is 1943. I'm a member of the 496 regiment under the command of Lieutenant Charlie Gibson. In the next few hours we are going to be going over. For many of us it will prove to be the greatest remedy of all!
            For the last week it has been raining hard. The surrounding landscape has turned to mud. The floor of our trench has six inches of water on it. My feet are irritating me. I can't take my mind off it. Not even the thought of coming up against our German counterparts can stop the pain.
           Six days ago we got our supply of ammunition. We have all been issued with new rifles. It seems pointless, as the fate of many of these rifles will be to sink into the horrible mud. Along with the ammo, we got new gas and helmets. At that point spirits were high despite the continuing rain.
          Five days ago we received the shocking news that all the members of the 325 regiment were wiped out in an ambush. I knew no one personally but a few of the other men did. They seemed unaffected but deep down I think they knew it could be them soon enough. What seemed like a consolation, though, was the fact that we were issued with a transfer radio. The reception isn't great but it can make many an hour pass more quickly.
         Four days ago Lieutenant Gibson told us the game plan. It basically involves us getting up and walking over out into the open. Many men protested about this idea. That night three men tried to escape from the trench. They were all shot for being cowards. However I believe they were the bravest men. They knew when they were beaten.
          Three days ago we received the last letters from our loved ones. My letter had a paragraph by both my mother and my father. After quickly reading through the letter we were called for another briefing from Lieutenant Gibson. He warned us about the price that cowards have to pay. If I just ran this whole thing would be over now. But I was compelled to stay, for King and country. We were also told to reply to our families for the final time.
           Two days ago we were under heavy fire from the enemy. They were obviously getting impatient for us to come out. The men were also getting impatient on our side. The tension was high in the trench. Fights were breaking out amongst us on a couple of occasions. I had to help restrain a few men. It was becoming difficult to stay in the trench but we knew we would be out of it soon enough.
           And finally, yesterday we got many crates of rum brought to us. We were all delighted, as we needed something to warm us up. It was yesterday that we were also told that we would be going over today. The sense of fear but relief aswell was immense. We can't wait to get this over and done with.
          That brings us to today. We have all been given our flasks of rum. I feel so calm now. I can do anything. I can see the men lining up now. We are ready. How I have waited for this day. Lieutenant Gibson is preparing to give the order. We are waiting. There it is. It's time to go.
          Were all over the top now. The enemy machine guns are firing frantically. I can see many of the men falling to the ground. Still I keep going. Suddenly I feel many bullets entering my flesh. I fall in agony. I can't feel from my waist down. I can hear the other men screaming for help. I try to reply but to raise my voice causes great pain. There's nothing I can do. I'm stuck here.
         I realise there's no hope. I will die here. The worst part is what my family will know. They will receive a letter saying I died bravely in the defence of my country. Really I died in defence of a few hundred yards of muddy, useless land. I feel so sorry for them and all the other families who will receive those letters. Now I die and hopefully go to a better place.