Like a distant summer thunderstorm, the lights and sounds of battle over the horizon masked the sloshing and sucking noise of soldiers moving through a countryside torn into little more than muddy fields.
Faces and weapons had been blackened with charcoal and smoke, yet anyone watching carefully enough would have recognised the men as German, thanks to the Pickelhaube helmets they wore. A mixture of steel and leather, these had small, pointy spears on top to help distinguish German soldiers from the enemy in the confusing battles of the Western Front.
This Strafbattalion had been ordered to investigate no man’s land for indications of enemy activity, specifically any preparations for an attack. The signs they were looking for included such things as cut barbed wire, or the placement of f
