Benjamin Fortier

It was a Friday. A holy day for the majority of the inhabitants of our fair city. It was around the time it started getting disgustingly...

Tears suddenly rolled down my right cheek. It felt as if a channel of magma was tunneling through the granite my face was supposed to be...

It was a nighttime operation. The only mission was to look for contact. We would find it, just not in the way I had hoped.

No one cared that I had only slept five hours on the first day of our cycle conducting operations from the train station.

My online social media accounts were filled with praise for our troops (particularly the Marine Corps) for hunting down and killing insurgen