The cold mud of eastern Ukraine sucked loudly at the soles of Mike Collins’s combat boots, trying to swallow his tired legs whole. The Ukrainian soldier yanked one boot free from a deep puddle and leaned hard on his soot-streaked rifle. The latest artillery barrage had ended only half an hour earlier, leaving behind nothing but a constant ringing in his ears and the bitter smell of scorched earth.
Above the shattered tree line, the sky hung low and gray, leaking a cold drizzle that worked its way straight through a man’s clothes. Mike wiped his face with a muddy sleeve, smearing together sweat, rainwater, and powder residue. His eyes, red from too many sleepless nights, stayed fixed on the hazy line of enemy positions ahead.
In the waterlogged trench, an uneasy quiet had settled in. It was broken only by the heavy breathing of the men who had made it through and the distant rumble of enemy armor. Beside Mike sat a young machine gunner named Ethan Carter, nervously feeding rounds through his fingers that still shook from cold and adrenaline. Their company had taken hard losses the day before, and now every surviving man felt less like a fellow soldier and more like family.
Mike stiffened when the radio suddenly crackled and the tired voice of his company commander came through. He ducked his head on instinct, bracing for orders to move positions or prepare for another assault. Instead, the captain told Collins to report to the command dugout right away.
The walk to headquarters took about fifteen long minutes, most of it spent slogging knee-deep through icy muck. Burned tree trunks stood black against the rain like sentries over a ruined patch of land. The air was so thick with dampness and explosives that every deep breath stung his lungs.
When he climbed down the slick dirt steps into the bunker, Mike felt the welcome heat of a little iron stove glowing red in the corner. Captain Steve Walker sat at a low makeshift table built from ammo crates, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. A cheap LED lamp wired to a battery pack cast weak light over a spread of worn field maps.
The captain looked up at the soaked soldier and gave him a tired smile, something rare these days. Without a word, he handed Mike a folded sheet of paper stamped and signed. Mike stared at the official document, not quite understanding, while something like hope stirred in him for the first time in months.
It was a real leave order—three days, granted for family reasons over Easter. Captain Walker explained that higher command had approved it after Mike pulled a badly wounded man to safety during the previous day’s attack. When the words sank in, Mike felt his throat tighten and his eyes fill before he could stop them.
He hadn’t seen his wife, Mary, or their five-year-old daughter, Annie, in eight long months. The only connection to home had been spotty satellite calls whenever a signal happened to come through. In that time, Mary had become well known in their hometown as a volunteer, raising money for drones and thermal gear for Mike’s battalion.
Mike gripped the paper in his rough hands as if it might disappear if he loosened his hold. The captain gave him a firm pat on the shoulder and told him to pack fast while the chance was there. In an hour, a volunteer evacuation pickup would head to the rear, carrying wounded men and a few lucky soldiers with leave papers in hand.
There wasn’t much to pack. Everything a foot soldier owned fit into one compact tactical backpack. Mike said quick goodbyes to the men, who were genuinely happy for him, clapping him on the back and sending their best to his family. Young Ethan Carter slipped a squashed chocolate bar into Mike’s chest pocket and asked him to give it to Annie.
Back above ground, Mike drew in a lungful of cold spring air that suddenly seemed cleaner than anything he’d breathed in months. In the distance, he heard the strained growl of an engine fighting its way through the mud. The old pickup, scarred by shrapnel, looked to him like the finest ride on earth—a ticket back to the life he barely remembered.
The dark green truck pulled up at the collection point, spraying mud in every direction from its heavy tires…
