*As distant rumblings of explosions continue to rhythmically make itself clear through the foggy night and with the occasional crackling of bullets between combatants erupting out, most of the soldiers would simply be in their trenches trying to enjoy their dinner meal*
Private One: … goddamn it’s a pity that we can’t drink booze, you know, wash our mind clear of everything we have to remember and vividly experience during the day.
Private Two: Hah, as if any of us will be able to survive for long enough without dying or becoming mentally scarred beyond repair before we get rotated out of this hellh*le, here, take a cig, that’s the best I can offer.
Private One: Sure, at least it’s something I suppose …
Private Three: Hey, can’t I get at least one? I’m literally stuck on night watch tonight.
Private Two: Sure, here you guys go.
*The cigarettes would be passed on to the other Privates for them to smoke off of while having their dinner*
Private Two: Ahhh … well … tomorrow is back to the routine … hopefully no drone attack comes tomorrow and shreds up our trench line.
Private Four: I don’t know, been hearing of how drone attacks by the enemy forces are getting more common and more numerous, definitely not a good development.
Private One: Ah, where’d you come fr- oh wait what’s good my bro?
Private Four: Doing alright , and you?
*The two of them would clasp each others hands before going in for a warm hug*
Private One: Ah, you know the routine, stuck in trench warfare … wonder when it’ll be our turn to finally get some offensive action of our own …
Private Four: At least this place is better than being stuck in the urban warfare, like have you heard the rumours of the attrition rate there? Jesus is it ridiculously high, and for what? A completely devastated and hollowed out town that is too damaged to be of any actual strategic usage for us until we undertake perilous repairs of it, and yet we still have to fight tooth and nail to attack it …
Private Three: … as if the trenches are any better …