The long, winding trench within the Everfree Forest was filled with sleeping forms of soldiers and equines. The First Everfree slept soundly in the cold chill of the autumn air, the dark of the wood ever being watched by the few unlucky enough to draw the night watch this time. The stillness of the night air remained in one piece as the fog slowly rolled in, blanketing the ground.

A lone figure was seen scampering quietly and rapidly towards the trench from behind the lines, slipping into the earthworks and sitting up against the wall, patting his satchel some with a grin. He picked up his rifle, then set it across his lap as if he had never left, looking to see if the night watch had seen him sneak off then back.

He looked over to his equine companion, grinning some.

“Digger… wake up, lad.”

The Equine merely stirred, as Perkins put his hand on him, nudging him.

“Come on, lad, wake up.”

Digger angrily tossed and turned, his head lifting off the ground, the helmet round his neck sliding over the soil. His gaze turned towards the perpetrator that had awoken him from his slumber.

“G’mornin’, lad.”

“Good? The sun’s not even out yet, Perkins…” The young equine yawned, stretching slightly. “Why is it I have to be awoken at…”He looked questioningly at the soldier, his eyebrow raised. “What time is it anyway?”

Perkins fished around his overcoat, slipping his hand under it towards a pocket on his tunic, sliding out a lovely silver watch and chain. He opened it, giving it a good look. “… It’s about four in the morning.”

Digger groaned, resting his head back on the ground. “Four in the morning!? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Perkins snapped the watch closed, slipping it back in his pocket. “It’s a good enough reason to wake someone so early, Digger. T’ain’t like there’s much to be waking up for nowadays anyway. There’s a war on, you know.”

The pony shifted to an upright position, looking at him. “Well, then wake me up when it’s over.”

The young soldier rolled his eyes, his hand unfastening the satchel. His hand moved into the bag, pulling out a rather large bundle wrapped in a handkerchief and held together with twine. He set the parcel down between them, watching Digger’s eyes follow it the entire time.

“What? Is that the reason you woke me up?” The pony’s eyes looked at the person, frowning some.

Perkins gave a small nod, sliding the bundle over, his fingers pulling the twine away. He undid the bundle, revealing two sweet smelling buns stacked one over the other within the handkerchief.

Digger’s eyes went wide as the two pastries were revealed to him. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Aye… Ran behind the lines an’ got us a pair. Figured ya’d be wantin’ somethin’ of a kin to actual breakfast rather than hard biscuits and watery tea.” He took one of the buns in his hands, his other sliding the handkerchief with the other bun closer towards Digger, the pony’s eyes as big as saucers as he watched the treat near him.

The two of them took a hearty bite of their treat, Digger devouring what he could as Perkins rested his back against the trench wall, chewing quietly. The tang of the apples and bitterness of the cinnamon filled their senses as they enjoyed their treat.

“This beats what piss poor excuse they call rations any day.”

Both their heads turned as the lowly sound of a violin was heard a ways away, coming from the commander’s office. Perkins groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned his head back, staring up at the dark sky peeking through the canopy.

“Don’t tell me ‘e’s actually goin’ to start so early in the mornin’.” He gave a sigh as Digger expressed his malcontent as well over the noise with his own murmur.

“You act as though he’s actually stopped playing music whenever he could.”

Perkins looked over at Digger for a moment, soon looking back down the trench. “Aye, but it wouldn’t kill ‘im to keep that damned noise silent for a moment. I’ve ‘ad enough of ‘is recitals. If ‘e ‘ad a decent taste in music, then I wouldn’t be complainin’, but with what ‘e plays, it’s maddening.”

“He’s played a few good ones.”

“No ‘e ‘asn’t! When’s the last time ‘e’s ever played anythin’ decent?”

Digger thought for a moment, shuffling to get himself a bit more comfortable. “… Last week was pretty good.”

Perkins rolled his eyes. “Las’ week, ‘e broke three strings on ‘is violin an’ kept makin’ it screech like a banshee.”

The violin music stopped, silence overtaking the trench. The two of them gave a slight sigh of relief.

“Guess he’s going to grant us mercy today.” Digger gave a wide and hopeful grin.

The intercom came on, static filling the feed. The posh voice of the commander was heard as he cleared his throat.

“Ahem; Good morning, lads! I figured I should give you lot a grand welcoming into the new day with a recital!”

Suddenly, the whole trench sat up awake, groaning and protests heard all throughout as men and ponies started yelling curses at the small commander’s office in the trench.

“Right, so here’s Bonnie Dundee on the pipes.”

Perkins eyes went wide, his pupils shrinking. “… oh bloody ‘ell, don’t tell me ‘e’s goin’ to-“

The whine and bleat of the bagpipes suddenly filled the loudspeakers, the noise filling the air about the trench. Men and ponies groaned and shouted as they shoved cotton in their ears, the music playing on in the morning air.

Perkins shoved two bits of cotton into his own ears, not realizing Digger was covering his head with his overcoat to blot out the noise.

“There ‘e goes… ‘e’s at it again!”

Several soldiers started throwing empty tin cans and jars at the office, booing. Soon, a shuffling was heard, and a brief argument heard before another voice took over.

“Sorry about that. We’ll just keep the noise down. I also now have to find another hiding spot for these instruments.”

A cheer echoed throughout the trench as their commander turned off the intercom and silenced the officer making the unwelcomed musical introduction to the day. Perkins and Digger gave a slight grin at each other; then looked back over the trench lip through the forest at the noise in the distance.

The blotchy vision of the ruins of Ponyville lay a ways away from the trench, smoke still snaking its way up from the smoldering shells of what were once shops and buildings. The craters of artillery shells dotted the landscape, making it seem almost alien. The forms of what could only be described as bodies were seen littered about the mud, strung up on the barbed wire spanning the length of No Man’s Land between them and the other trench. Remnants of warbirds that crash landed upon the earth stuck up at odd places, the cloth torn apart from the frame, leaving only the skeletal forms in their stead.

It was a somber sight to behold every morning. The grey light of the sun in the fog slowly brightening the scene from the east as the rest of the trench became fully awake. It was about a quarter to five in the morning now, and the men and ponies of the First Everfree were ready to start their day once more.

Perkins sat in his spot, his hands cupped around an aluminum cup, Digger sitting beside him with his. Down the trench line, two men hobbled about with a steaming pot between them, a unicorn behind them levitating a ladle and serving up the blackened and oily excuse they called coffee.

The fluid drained into their cups, Digger making a face at it as the trio walked off round the corner elsewhere in the trench. “Ugh… this stuff again? I don’t think I can take another trip to the infirmary…”

“Pipe down. It ain’t all bad, mate. T’ain’t like they got us eatin’ weeds o’ anythin’ like that.”

Digger looked up at the next group coming up with the food. They handed out paper plates of what looked like greens with the life boiled out of them, a stale piece of bread next to it.

“I think you spoke too soon, Perkins.”

Perkins grumbled, looking at the food in front of him, scooping it up with the stale piece of bread and eating it, making a face.

“Ugh… t’ain’t food. If the Hun ain’t killin’ us, then the cook is.”

The cook passing out the food frowned as he walked away, giving the two a rude gesture. “You’ll like it and eat it! It’s the only thing we got!”

Perkins merely made a face at him as he turned around, chucking the contents of the food over the trench lip.

After he got back down, the ground shook, the explosion knocking everyone back from their posts as a shell slammed near the trench; dirt, rock, and wood was showering the inhabitants of the trench. Shrill whistles blasted through the air, calling the men and equines to general quarters.

Digger huddled down into his nook in the trench, his helmet on his head as he shut his eyes. Perkins huddled up against the trench wall, the earth rumbling about them, the shells deafening them with each whistling drop and detonation. The soldiers remained quiet as the bombardment continued onwards, the dome of the town hall exploding as a German shell slammed into it. The remnants of the building collapsed in on itself, a big cloud of dust and debris in its wake.

Perkins looked over near where the cook had been headed, watching him and the others sprint past to find better cover. A shell slammed home in front of them, flame and shrapnel filling the narrow enclosure. The group vanished in the fireball, leaving only an equine lying on his side, his leg blasted off by the shell.

Perkins sat there, staring forward at the dirt wall. Then cuts on his face and hands were bleeding freely from the shrapnel. Pebbles rattled on his helmet like rain, and the surreal scene about him was nothing but the deafening ringing within his ears.

He felt the earth continue to quake about him, Digger keeping huddled within his small hiding spot as hell rained down upon them. Then, as suddenly as it began, it ceased, the silence only disturbed by the moans of the wounded.

Digger poked his head out after a moment, looking about, mortified. “… i-is it over?”

The shrill call of the whistles about the trench answered his question. Shouts and rifles thudding against sandbags were heard as the men and ponies prepared for the onslaught of enemy soldiers. The fog was still hovering about them, making Perkins and Digger tense.

A yelp was heard as someone was suddenly yanked from his post in the trench, disappearing above them. Another man met with the same fate, disappearing from view as he shot upwards into the air, talons gripping his shoulders. Shouts of panic echoed as gunfire suddenly erupted upwards, bullets wildly zipping above them in the cold morning air.

The occasional thud of a body falling from the skies was heard, gryphons and humans alike slamming into the ground about them. The shouts and calls of enemy soldiers incoming burst through the trenches, machine gun chattering springing up.

Perkins pressed himself against the trench wall, rifle pointed out forward as he began to fire at the forms in the fog advancing on them. Bullets tore into the sandbag and soil about him, Digger kept to his little hole, huddled up and silent. A gryphon zipped down from above in an attempt to grab a soldier near the two, only to be run through with a bayonet, the body falling limp on the soldier below it.

Shouts and clattering was heard as the shrill whistle called again, the men in the trenches suddenly clambering out to meet the enemy head on in the open field. Perkins grabbed Digger, charging headlong into the fray, shouting and screaming like a madman, with the young pony in tow.

Men, ponies, and gryphons alike fell about them as the two armies met in No Man’s Land, the numbers of the advancing Germans and Gryphons being cut down by sprays of machine gun fire. Rifle butts slammed into bodies, forms were riddled with shells and run through with cold steel.