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He makes cover and shoulders into
The mud and he feels it soaking
Into his fatigues and the lash of
Rain as it breaks into the earth
Spattering his face and he breathes
Ragged and swallows and lifts his
M4 carefully over the incline and
Draws the stock to his body and
Staring into the dense atmosphere he
Takes aim and repeatedly discharges
The rifle into the enemy positions and
Reloads counting his remaining rounds.
Ordinance is falling around him where
He lies in a recess and as he reapplies
The rifle to the distance he is deafened
By a mortar detonating several metres
To the right and he fires silently
Through it the only sound the blood
Palpitating in his auditory canal and a
Thud in his chest cavity as the rifle
Recoils with the force of each discharge.