Not everyone can enjoy the same food treatment as the Supreme Commander, after all, having a personal chef and enjoying hot meals anytime is a privilege only for a few officers.
Having missed the hot dinner, Allied Forces soldiers could only gnaw on cold compressed biscuits and dry food in the trenches. Rainwater gathered into streams, flowing along the bottom of the trenches, soaking the already loose soil into an even muddier mess.
The soldiers' boots sank deeply into it, each step requiring effort to pull out, producing an annoying creaking sound. The air was filled with a damp earthy smell, the odor of sweat, and a strange rotting mix of various things, making one nauseous.
The Allied Forces soldiers could only curl up in the narrow space of the trenches, looking for a slightly drier spot to barely rest themselves.
However, the moist and chilly air seeped into every nook and cranny; even if a temporarily water-free patch was found, the penetrating cold couldn't be escaped.
