War Zone

I can smell the salt of the ocean as my heart pounds, my hands shake, But the drink warms me, calms me. I battle my way to the surface and bob there like a cork, bombs are flying, bullets falling, I can already see the dead. One of my men in the boat behind me whispers a prayer and marks the holy cross upon himself, the only word I catch is ‘Amen’ and then my sense’s are filled with the stinging salt and the blooded sea water.

Unknown Solider

Soliders, we will never know who sons and daughters of the red the white the blue.