Trench by John Musico

The old man stumbled out of the bar and plodded onward by foot. It rained heavily and was very dark. He slid down the roadside mud and tumbled into a trench. He flashed back to his army days in such trenches and drifted off to sleep.
At dawn, he awoke to multiple rounds of gunfire. Was he dreaming of the war? No, he was on the shooting range of an army base. A voiced called out; “Cease fire, man on the range!” The M.P.’s dragged him to the nearest clinic- mine. I asked; “Exposure?” They replied; “and also quite drunk”.