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It was early in the morning, sun beaming down on Richard's hatted head. The tall man was currently making his way toward the ration stations, intent on getting his meal for the day and working as a soldier until natural weaknesses such as stomach pains and exhaustion kicked in. The soft snow crunching beneath his boots served as a minor annoyance as he waded through the white terrain. 

Before entering the station, he swiped the snowy debris off his uniform and straightened his cap. Alongside him were his fellow soldiers strolling in for a meal, varying countenances displayed on their faces. Richard took the designated meal: water, meat, and bread. He broke up the bites into the dry meat with short gulps of water before finishing both of them. The blond solder took the loaf of bread with him out of the station into the communication trench that had the closest path to the command trench.

It was a comfortable tunnel with an open space that gave him the feeling that he was doing his job. Finishing the last of his rations, he did a mental check on his gear, recalling if he uncharacteristically forgot anything. 

His gun, his trench knife, his grenades. He has them all, which means he's ready for battle this instant. There was no outward shift in his expression and even his muted emotions had next to nothing rippling through them; however, his soldier's will toward war gradually shifted into something that would benefit him on the battlefield.

A breath of air from inside came out as steam once it mixed with the cold air outside Richard's body. His gloved hands could be slowed down by the weather once the wind picks up, so he forced the blood to get flowing in order to perform his future duties to the best of his abilities.

Finally passing through the communication trench, Richard entered the command trench to report for duty and get his assignment.