A soldiers remorse

The snowflakes drift down adding to an ocean of white. A grim reminder of how nature is not usually on your side. The flakes blanket the fallen, those who were lucky enough to escape this man made hell. Now these men were soldiers when they died, but before they were farmers, carpenters, bakers, teachers and laborers. They had families that will be missing fathers, brothers, sons, uncles and friends. But here we are all brothers, brothers in arms... and brothers in blood. In the morning we will find our brothers who are being buried under a blanket of white. Our barracks feels empty now that there are only thirty-seven of us left. Our barracks holds about one hundred and twenty men overall. I don't think that anyone back home understands what we do or why we do it. But none of us care anymore. We protect each other because we are all that matters in our world.