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This page is where I plan to post updates as the book comes nearer to being ready for release. Stay tuned!

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The First Three Chapters

Here's an update for 2020. My goal last year was to release this book, and while I sent it out to about 20 publishers, I also took up postgraduate schooling that was extremely demanding for somebody with no prior technical degree, so my attention was drawn away from being able to entirely dedicate myself to this project. I'm looking to change that this year, so I'd like to share the first three chapters (plus an updated prologue). It's a hearty amount to put online, but it's what I send to publishers when I pitch my book, so I'm completely alright with sharing this with anyone and everyone. I began this project because of an experience that I could relate through these soldiers and their stories paired with a newfound fondness for writing, so it's a very personal piece for me. Frankly, it's quite challenging putting myself so out there with something so transparent in how I find myself thinking. Regardless, I'm always accepting of any comments ...
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Past The Word-Count Goal!

Dear fans, As many of you may know, All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque is a key influence to my book. Being as much of an inspiration as it was, I set its word count as my goal, as 61,922 words. I am delighted to announce that I had recently made it past my goal for the word count! There are only a few more chapters left, and I expect to finish the first draft of this book this week! To celebrate, when the book is finished, I will start extracting quotes from parts of the book I think are neat, and sharing them with all of you. Shout-out to all of you for the support, particularly to my mom for consistently finding a way to call me during the most intense moments for writing. Stay tuned! -Benjamin
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Prologue: It Was Them, or Us

Prologue: It Was Them, or Us Unterfeldwebel Rupert Schmidt Crack! The bullet sliced through the air as it left my rifle. After a split second, I saw poor Ivan flinch as his peace was disrupted by the rude interjection of my lead. The rifle dropped from his hands as he slumped over, no longer an active player in this skirmish. Instinctively, I promptly got ready for whatever next shot that will await me by tugging back the bolt handle on my rifle as the empty shell spewed out of her right side. It was my favourite piece of consolation after taking such a gruesome shot – the expended shell brushes against the metal receiver of my Karabiner 98k to make that familiar noise metals tend to make when touching. It’s reassuring to break the trend of exclusively worrying about what was often several hundreds of meters surrounding me to reach forward within my personal space and tend to my rifle for even just a moment. Pulling that bolt handle back has always been a wordless avenue for my rifle a...
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