The morning mist spread, and the cold clouds felt like water.
The once peaceful field by the River Somme had now become scorched earth, with the wind carrying the smell of gunpowder and rotting corpses. Sunlight pierced through the thin fog, casting refractions onto the bodies in no man's land, terrifying the rats gorging and fighting over the remains.
The British Army's attacks and bombardments had finally quieted down for a few hours during the night, but neither side fully relaxed. Everyone knew that this brief respite was only for preparing a better offensive next time.
"Stay alert," Colonel Ralph of the German Army's 21st Infantry Regiment shouted at his drowsy subordinates.
He complained, "These rabbits, don't think the British will let us off so easily."
"Colonel," someone responded, "aren't they refusing to let themselves off?"
The soldiers burst into laughter, none of them expected the British to launch such suicidal charges.
Ralph replied indifferently:
