The Eternity Project

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‘Stand tall and show an imposing front!’

Private Oliver Barraclough staggered to his feet as a thunderous blast shook the deep earthen walls of the trench towering around him. A shower of dislodged soil and stones pelted down onto his helmet and splattered into pools of icy water beneath his boots. His uniform was drenched and plastered with mud, and the sullen gray sky above was weeping thin veils of freezing rain that ran down his face. Dozens of soldiers clambered to their feet all around him, pale with exhaustion and cold, hands clenching the stocks of long-barreled Lee-Enfield rifles.

A screech shattered the air and Oliver hurled himself against the slimy wall of the trench as a mortar shell crashed down nearby. The blast hurled chunks of earth and rock mixed with torn limbs and ruined weapons that crashed down in their midst. The shockwave from the blast rattled Oliver’s eyeballs in their sockets, his vision quivering. Oliver blinked and shook his head as his ears rang from the infernal noise, droplets of moisture stained crimson now dripping from the rim of his helmet.

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