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(The person meant to answer this never did so if anyone else is interested let me know)
Sign up for King and Country. For Honor and Glory. Do your part. It started that way. Eager enthusiasm to serve one's country. But it didn't stay that way. The moment one had to put a seventeen-inch blade through another man and watch the light fading from his eyes it changed something. It changed when the bombs started falling and disintegrated a man right before your very eyes. It changed when you listened to young boys crying out for their mothers as they died tangled up in the muddy barbed wire in no man's land where nobody could reach them to render aid. No. There was no honor and there was no glory here. Only pointless waste of lives. Defeatists talk they would call it, but he knew the truth. The only ones to call it defeatist were rich old men with something to gain. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he sighed heavily to himself, knowing a cold rain would only bring with it more discomfort and suffering. Adjusting he tried to make himself as comfortable as he could within the small dugout in the side wall of the trench that served for a bed. No mattress and a helmet made for a poor pillow, but it was what they had. A few soldiers on patrol made their way back and forth through the trenches. The mood had become very somber. No longer was it the jovial banter of stating they would be home before Christmas. There was no end in sight.