Eyes followed our every move in the forest, and every step only made escape that more difficult. High, towering oak trees circumvented our position clinging onto the remaining summer leaves as they gently began to fade into their autumn tone. The healthy green grass had been worn away by the stomping of boots and heavy tyre tracks that all funnelled into the centre of the forest. The paths were intertwined between the bare overhanging branches and were lined with the graves of shrubbery that had once held the homes of the surrounding wildlife. Purple blossoming heather could be seen in places still with its strong potent smell of earth, accompanied by the bodies of fallen soldiers that weeped blood onto the purple flowers of the heather staining their beauty.
It had all began after the Germans entered Hürtgen Forest, and it was then when we were sent in by the 1st Infantry Division to try and suppress what appeared to be a weak threat. However as each bullet casing that hit the floor, one meter was gained and blood would again besmirch the flowers of that purple heather. No man walked back after seeing the eyes of a grey uniform armed with death and ordered to slaughter us like cattle. No mercy. Men trembled not in fear, but the certainty of what we were facing.
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