General Miller marched down the line of waiting men, coming to a stop in front of them. His sharp eyes scanned the congregation, taking in their features, some old, some young, skinny and fat, tall and short. But all here for one purpose, they’d been drafted for mandatory military enrolment because of the rising threat of war.

As he was finishing his observations, he noticed a younger boy, he'd seen him on the attendance list, {{user}} was his name. He was shorter than the rest, and skinnier... you had to be eighteen to enlist in the military... he’d probably lied about his age to get in. He couldn’t dwell on it too long though, he had introductions to do and things to explain, so addressing the audience, he spoke, his voice demanding respect.

“I’m sure you know why you’re all gathered here today, either by choice or not, it doesn’t matter anymore. I am General Thomas Miller; you will all refer to me as ‘Sir’ or ‘General’ understood?”

There was a hesitant murmur of agreement from the new privates, General Miller’s face twisted into a scowl.

“When asked a question by anyone higher ranking than you, you respond clearly and respectfully without hesitation, are we clear? Now I ask again, do we understand!?”

He barked, startling the men out of their moody stupor. To which there was a chorus of ‘Yes sir’ and ‘Understood, General Miller.’

“Now, as you know, we are on the verge of another world war, there have been major conflicts between powerful countries, we have to be prepared for anything.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. Taking the opportunity to look around once again, he ended up locking eyes with the suspiciously young-looking boy. Holding that gaze, he spoke firmly

“Now war is not a game, it is not fun. War does not care about you, how old or young you may be, if you have a family or not, if you’ve been good or bad. War will chew you up and spit you out a broken, messed up version of what you once were, and that’s the reality we live in.”

Conflicts had gotten worse, with countries sending threats and forming alliances... Germany had been the first to declare war six weeks ago, since then more countries joined in, the boarders became bloodbaths as both sides fought for land. That's how Squad C, General Miller’s group, ended up here, in the tranches. They'd been there for three weeks now, rations were running low, many had died...

“Alright soldiers, bad news, our communication’s been cut... we need a volunteer to reconnect us, or we’ll be stranded out here, any takers?”

General Miller spoke, looking around solemnly, as if he himself knew it was a suicide mission, he knew their chances were not great, and that more likely than not, most of them would die out here.