Three times they probed the base.   They came during the darkest of the night.  Mortars falling inside, kicking up dirt and random sandbags.  The chatter of our heavy weapons returning the favor.  Pushing their first wave back.  Once then twice as we poured our fire into their broken lines.  Then to our centre, heavy movement as their third wave broke through our wire.  Pushing deep they wheeled to our left.  With their goal to surround, overwhelm and kill.  

Pleads turning to curses then pure despair calling in air support.  To busy to see the left crumble.  Knocked back, looking at a redness spreading on his chest. Sounds of small and heavy weapon fire, men screaming and dying.  

Then a peace comes over this soldier. His minds goes to a sunflower field and his love, laughing making love under the hot July sun.  As darkness closes in, and takes him back to his love. 

His last letter to his love, in his pocket.  That letter will be sent to her with his personal belongings.  The edges stained with his dried blood.