Jerome's P.O.V.
I shivered, clutching my rifle to my chest. It was freezing cold, too cold for snow even so the normally thick mud at the bottom of the trenches was frozen solid, along with every other part of my body. Despite two pairs of thick, knitted socks from home I couldn't feel my feet and my nose was on the verge of being frostbitten, despite the scarf wound around my neck and face.
I glanced around at the other boys to see many of them in a similar position, dressed in thick woollen clothing but hunched over because of the cold or huddled together, trying to sleep while they could. I was off patrol, we had switched stations just an hour before so I could try and catch some sleep, but it never came. It was far too cold and I was frankly terrified.
We were going over the top, tomorrow at dawn. We had been talking about it for weeks, knowing that many of us wouldn't come home from that day but it was just a harsh reality for many of us now. I had accepted that I would probably die, just like many of the others around me.
I didn't like to think about it, the ones I had already lost, but I couldn't help it. James, one of my best mates, killed in an ambush before we even made it to the trenches, shot in the head. John, sniped on guard duty one night, he was taller than the rest of us and hadn't thought about standing. Richard, died in a gas attack.
Thomas went more peacefully than them, slipping away in the night from the cold and hunger just a few short weeks before. He had hardly even seen combat and had never been injured.
I thought of my family back home. My mother and my two little sisters, my dad who was working as hard as he could to support them, too old to join the army he had been told. There was a piece of paper in my pocket with a letter for them, in case I never made it home.
My dearest family,
It read, in my messy and scrawling handwriting.
If you are receiving this letter, then I will not be coming home. This might be short but even every letter in the world could not express how much I love you and how much I miss you and although the sky here might be the same as the one I see at home, but oh how it is different and how I miss you all so. Just know that when I died, I saw the dawn.
Love, your son and brother, Jerome.
It was short but it was all that I could bear to write. I wanted to go home to my family, but if I were to die then so be it. I died fighting for my country, for my freedom and for my people and if my death meant my family could keep on living then I would accept it.
I clutched the little bit of metal around my neck, the dog tag with my name, army serial number, my next of kin who was my father, and his address. It also included my blood type, whether of not I had been immunised for tetanus and my religion. It would be vital, possibly the only thing that could identify my body if I died.
I sighed and pulled my hat down over my eyes, hoping to catch some dregs of sleep before the dreaded morning arrived.
-------------------------------------------
Dawn arrived far too soon. I awoke at 4 by no choice of my own, the adrenaline was already pumping through my body so there was no way I would be able to sleep and I knew it. A lot of the boys were already awake too, sitting around with rifles clutched in their grasp looking both terrified and determined. We would be going over the top at exactly half past 5.
The sergeant of our regiment, Ronald, was pacing up and down the trench with his back hunched, occasionally stopping to talk to one of the soldiers, trying to keep morale up. He knew this was hopeless, so did everyone else, but no one ever said it.
