Explore "The Enemy" by Richard Wilson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
_It was a totally new kind of war, / and yet not really a new war at all._
At dusk the sergeant leaned over the parapet, weary, looking south toward the enemy lines. For him this was the worst part of the day. The fighting was done until tomorrow and the enemy casualties were being brought in through the gate below. Their bodies were piled in awful abandon on the big flat-bed trucks.