The Mud Beneath
What waits in the mud below a trench in WW1
France, 1917 The mud in the trench was always there, thick, clinging, and alive in a way that made Private Edward Hale uneasy. It sucked at his boots, pulled at his ankles like it wanted him down with the others who’d never made it back to the surface. He kept to himself mostly. The other lads in his unit thought he was soft, too poetic for war. He wrote no letters to anyone and stared into the mist longer than a sane man...