16 years old when i went to the war to fight for a land fit for heroes god on my side and a gun in my hand chasing my days down to zero and i marched and i fought and i bled and i died i never did get any older but i knew at the time that a year in the line was a long enough life for a soldier we all volunteered and we wrote down our names and we added two years to our ages eager for life and ahead of the game ready for history s pages and we brawled and we fought and we whored til we stood ten thousand shoulder to shoulder a thirst for the hun we were food for the gun and that s what you are when you re soldiers i heard my friend cry and he sank to his knees coughing blood as he screamed for his mother and i fell by his side and that s how he died clinging like kids to each other and i lay in the mud and the guts and the blood and i wept as his body grew colder and i called for my mother and she never came though it wasn t my fault and i wasn t to blame the day not half over and ten thousand slain and now there s nobody remembers our names and that s how it is for a soldier6