So here's some more, it's not my favorite but it's something.
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It had been a tough past couple of months fighting. Being stuck in a drainage ditch of some burned farm in the middle of the Crying Fields was not exactly the type of heroic bravery and valor the 51st had initially envisioned. The Crying Fields, an ironic name since the only liquid that wet this ground was the blood of honorable men. Here, in this drainage ditch, the pointlessness of the war had not started to settle into the Aundairians’ hearts, for they know that even though they fight for scorched soil, bereft of life and devoid of hope, they would rather die than fall to Thrane. This was their pride, their honor and valor, their heroic bravery tied to these few square miles that they so steadfastly held with no mercy, this is Aundair and no Thrane would ever hold this land.
Time had taken its toll, however; time and hunger. They had received no word from command in two weeks save to hold this line. With diligence and passion, the brave soldiers of the 51st Airborne did just that, knowing their brothers and sisters harbored the same dedication to their country and to each other. Though they did not push, they held, the stalemate endlessly enduring. Days would pass between skirmishes, yet complacency never set in. Supplies ran low, food scarce forcing rations to be cut, stomachs to be empty.
Despite all this, the 51st Airborne had suffered minimal casualties while reaping devastating effects against their foes. They achieved this through camaraderie, superior teamwork, and a wealth of skill. While their training had prepared them for battle and life on the lines, it had failed to prepare them for the attrition they faced.
In their religious zeal, the Thranish converted any Aundairian by the sword; they scorched any land not yet blackened. Opposing scouting parties were common, as was their immediate capture. When orders dictated a change of locale, the 51st would meet any foe head on, attacking with the fervor one would expect from a soldier from Aundair. But a friend would fall, sometimes two, and the doubts began.
While it was important not to lose any ground to Thrane, at times it seemed pointless to fight and die for such trivial land. Surely there were more pressing matters the 51st Airborne could be doing. For a platoon with such a stellar record, their efforts seemed wasted in this desolate land.
