The trench reeked of mud and sweat, and Stanhope’s fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles ached. The men around him moved cautiously, as if afraid the slightest misstep might trigger the storm he carried inside him.

Raleigh had just arrived, beaming with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Sir! I saw the new reinforcements coming through—maybe we could—”

“Don’t ‘maybe’ me, Raleigh!” Stanhope’s voice cut through the trench like a whip. The suddenness of it made the younger officer stumble back, nearly tripping over the mud. “Do you think this is a game? Do you think I have time for your… your childish enthusiasm while men are dying out there?!”

Raleigh’s eyes widened. “I—I was just—”

“Just what? Trying to prove you belong here? Trying to make me think you’re brave?!” Stanhope slammed his fist against the trench wall, mud splattering. “You have no idea what it’s like out there! You don’t know what it means to stare death in the face every single day and come back here alive!”

Raleigh swallowed hard, his hands trembling. “I—I want to do my best, sir. I really do.”

Stanhope’s chest heaved, the storm inside him barely contained. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “Your ‘best’ won’t keep anyone alive! Not you, not me, not the men depending on us! Do you think courage alone can save you? It can’t, Raleigh. You don’t understand, and you won’t… not until you’ve seen it. Seen what war really does to a man!”

For a long moment, the only sound was the distant rumble of artillery and Raleigh’s uneven breathing. Then, Stanhope turned abruptly, muttering under his breath as he kicked at the mud.

“I… I didn’t mean to—” Raleigh started, but Stanhope didn’t hear. His anger was like a living thing, raw and unrelenting, but behind it, buried deep beneath the rage, was fear: fear for the boy standing before him, fear for every man he commanded, fear for himself.

Raleigh stood still, staring at Stanhope’s retreating back. He didn’t speak, but somehow he understood. This was not hatred, not cruelty. This was a man broken by war, trying to protect everyone in the only way he knew—by letting the anger out, letting it roar, hoping it would keep them alive.

Silence returned to the trench, heavier than ever. And in that silence, Raleigh made a quiet promise: to survive, to learn, and to somehow reach the man behind the fury.