Date- September 3rd, 1945
Home. I'm finally coming home. The day I long waited for was finally coming. I can finally take off my ruined green and black uniform, that stunk like the sewers of Germany.
I can take off my boots, my boots full of reached muddy water from the trenches, my boots with black laces filled with brown water,
and looked as if they had been chewed by rats the size of dogs.
My God those rats were big, teeth as if they had been chewing the Luitenants razers, eyes: red, red like the blood of the many fallen men.
I can finally lay down my weapon and stop killing innocent foreigners because the front line was mostly innocent men, slaughtered by the Allies.
The warmth of my home is incredible to think about. I want to be back in my warm bed, wrapped in my duvets, waiting for the love of my life, Candace, to return from her prolonged day at work.
The idea of seeing her again, after facing Satan himself and facing death, is seemingly a dream, a dream which doesn't seem to exist, but it will.
(Be nice, its my first one and not comleted, any advice happily accepted!)