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Aug 13

Le François de la Tranchée



With my stomach on the ground I look over the parapet and into the trench. Nobody could be seen.

Slowly I lower myself in and attempt to make as little noise as possible when my boots reach the ground. Up and down this trench eleven other soldiers did the same. 

I see three shapes in the darkness. So I raise my rifle, train it on one, and slowly walk towards them. 

The dark shapes morph into the outlines of men as I approach, a hushed French conversation floats through the air. I walk closer as I lower my rifle. 

“Everyone ready to go?” I whisper.

“Ready as ever,” Louis replies.

“All right, holster the rifles. It’s too loud,” I order,“ only use them if you must.”