Why do we fight in this ankle deep snow?
It is colder than hell.As the temperature seems to reach 54 below.The stench of the smell, Of the wounded and dead.And not to mention our frostbitten hands and feet.There was barely enough food to satisfy our need.Yes it is exhausting out here, with little to no sleep.It seems like we are always in a fire fight.They say victory of this battle is just around the bend.Only if we believed this was right.But we do not believe,
because it seems like it will never end
By Frank Pulver Mar 21,2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem