A dark shadow lays over the trench, the stench of my own rotting flesh lies in my nose. I fumble nervously on the dirty bandages on my arms, legs and stomach. The steel helmet temporarily slips into my eyes and hides my view of no man's land in front of me. Although my boots sink almost completely in the mud and silt together with the box I'm sitting on, my whole body feels dry. Almost Mummified. My eyes stare into the wide void, nothing but rotting morass and puddles capture my eyes.
In my head, the clock counts down my lifetime. How many times has this watch stopped and broken.... Just to be patched together again. I have already died hundreds of times. When will it be final? When will my time finally come?
My bony fingers clawe into the wooden cladding of my rifle.
Once again, death rises from his grave to enter the harvest. My comrades rise with me. The time is right. The pipe sounds. He's calling for me.
The pack rises shouting from the holes, the silence escapes the scream of thousands of dead men who rise to die again. At the same time, the machine guns begin to sing their rattling song.
And their singing is joined by the whistling of the artillery.
The Symphony of the Dying.
But all of a sudden I stop. My legs stop bringing me towards death, even though my head convulsively sends the order to my body. The blood-infused eyes turn away from the exchange of fire flashing in the fog. A cold wind bites through my holey coat. Over the barren treetops sits silver and gigantic the full moon, surrounded by its shining stars. And what do my ears hear there?
My eyes capture a shadowy silhouette in the fog wandering over the battle-field, the wind blows through her hair and makes it float behind her. She moves almost silently over the mud dunes and corpses, looking at the sky.
The Symphony of Death fades. All I hear is her voice singing a soft melody.
I start to tremble and I let the rifle sink.
My eyes fill with tears. Slowly she stops at one of the trees and touches the burned bark with her hand. Her gaze turns to me.
Looks like she's smiling...
I want to go to her. But my legs don't obey me. I try to stretch out my hand, but my body suddenly feels so weak.
She is so close and yet so far away.
And before my dried-up vocal cords can produce anything, she disappears with the fog...
