(This is set in the eastern front of WW1 with the Americans as the main protagonist)
Capt. Zakary Knight was woken from his restless sleep on his lice-filled straw bed by a large shell explosian. He looked around in comfusion for a moment before grabbing his khaki helmet and his Springfield bolt-action from his makeshift wooden dresser. His bedroom bunker shook again as another shell shook. At that moment his assistant, Corporal Micheal Smof, ran into the underground bunker/bedroom.
He stopped behind Zakary as he looked at him and saluted. "Sir," He stopped to take a deep breath, "The Germans are shelling and Colonel Parker wants you to prepare for enemy assault on trench fifty-six."
Zakary nodded, thinking of a strategy. Trench fifty-six... The front line and a good place for assault.
"Allright, Corporal, tell the colonel that I'll get the defense ready." As he was talking he checked his rifle, and loaded a stripper clip. He then cycled the bolt. He also put on his helmet.
Smof nodded quickly and ran out into the mailstorm of shells. Zakary followed him out of the room and paused despite himself, looking at the beautiful sky only marred by the shell smoke. The a shell hit and jarred him out of his wonder and set him straight back to his task.
"Damn, damn, damn...." He muttered to himself as he ran of trench fity-six.
