Heinrik struggled to lift himself out of one of the many filthy pools that always resided in Trenches. He had barley lifted himself 2" from the ground, when his captures grabbed an arm each and yanked him to his feet. Their grips on his arms were vice like, which just served to add more pain to his already beaten body. Heinrik instinctively went to give one of the guards a dirty look, but after a few seconds of staring the guard in the face he realised that he was wasting his time. How he hated these of all his enemies, they were so inhuman with their faces constantly concealed behind gas masks.
Three month’s he had thought against this enemy and not once in all that time had he seen a visible show of emotion from them not fear, hate or terror! It was all so unbearable, even more so now that he was there in their very midst, he had never before felt so isolated.
Heinriks’s filthy look was quickly rewarded with a hard and fast kidney punch, followed by being jerked and pulled down the length of the trench. As Heinrik travelled down the length of the trench he found his spirits lifting. The trench was disgusting, all about lay the dying and the dead, the place absolutely stank! Heinrik thought to himself - "It's no wonder they never take their gas masks off", as he himself battled to keep the contents of his own stomach down. With conditions like this, surly the battle was won.
The further Heinrik travelled through this hell hole, the more he became confused, and the more he started to search his sole and ask questions. Why were these men living like this? Enduring these inhuman conditions? Was the cause he was fighting for so wrong, that normal men would sacrifice and suffer so much, just to stop his cause. Not five minutes earlier he had seen a Trencher die in the arms of a comrade, with not so much as a word or human contact passing between them. A few minutes later he had seen three Trenchers cooking some broth in a tin helmet, yet they where surrounded by decomposing bodies, probably members of their own squad. How were they going to eat without removing those damned gas mask and exposing themselves to the stench of old friends, how could they even stomach food?
Heinrik journey in the trench lasted all of five minutes before he finally arrived at his destination. Journey's end was a collapsed underground warren, probably home to the five men that now stood before him. All of them stooped what they were doing and closely eyed him up and down. Heinrik for his part did exactly the same, and wished he hadn’t. These were the roughest looking bunch of coat throats that he had ever laid eyes on, just for once he was glad that he couldn’t see their faces. The sheer aura that the squad of Trenchers gave out was enough to make a Grizzly turn in its tracks, but the presence of their Sgt was the most terrifying. Heinrik had never felt so afraid by just standing in the same vicinity of someone, this mans aura was vast and powerful and defiantly directed at him.
Heinrik watched the Sgt very carefully, too afraid to look into his mask and to terrified to look away. This continued on for what seemed an eternity, then was ended by the Sgt. Heinrik caught a glimpse of the Sgt nodding to one of his guards, then he watched as the Sgt carefully turned around and rested his rifle on the trench edge. With the Sgt no longer paying him attention, Heinrik risked a look at his guard. What he expected to see was the guard raising a pistol to his head, but was instead amazed to see the guard offering him a cigarette.
Heinrik quickly accepted the cigarette as did his other guard. Heinrik now stood with his arms free, the pins and needles in his arms slowly fading as blood rushed back to his hands. The guard who offered him the cigarette pulled out a brass lighter and attempted to light the cigarette in a most bizarre fashion. He placed the cigarette to one of the disc filters that stood on a stem from each side of the gas mask and started to drag on it. To Heinrik’s amazement the cigarette actually took light. The other guard accepted the lighter from the first and lit his cigarette in a similar fashion.
For the first time in three month’s Heinrik allowed himself a brief and calm moment of happiness as he watched these men smoke cigarettes through gas mask’s. As the guard passed him the lighter he laughed out loud. By Algeroth he had witnessed the safest thing a Trencher could possibly do - smoke with gas mask on. And they say that smoking kills.
When Heinrik had composed himself a little more, he attempted to light his own cigarette. It's was a beautiful lighter he noted as he held it in his hand, and as he brought it up to the meet the tip of the cigarette, one last thought entered Henriks mind. "Wasn’t it bad luck to be the third person to light up?"

This is only one half of the tale. The Sgts perspective should be more enlightneing and enjoyable.