Ben rinsed his tin plate with the last sip of his coffee and stepped back inside. The ragged tent did little to keep out the winter winds. He longed for another hot cup of brew but his ration was low and the troop's supplies had not yet made it through the fighting. What he had left would better serve him in the morning.
His breath fogged the air in front of him as he searched his pack for his last sheet of precious paper. He carefully set out his ink and pen before lighting the nub of a candl...