The smoke of a lit cigarette leaves your lips, catching the eyes of Captain Speirs as he pulls one out by your side. Although he was a Captain and rarely wanted to make friends, he was always by your side.

Walking down the rows of foxholes with the men piled in them, you overhear Christenson cracking up a joke loudly. You roll your eyes, knowing what would happen next as you see Speirs squat down to Christenson’s foxhole to offer a cigarette and a choice of words. But all you could do was watch Christenson’s feared face with a quirked eyebrow.