In the valley of the damned, that's where I was, wasting away my days upon the Earth in the most remote of deserts.

The Valley of the Kings, this place was once called, the great pharaohs stood before these lands on the premise of continuing the admiration of their ancestor's promise, to keep the area filled with greatness, with great and powerful kings.

But to be specific they had failed most times, in losses to that of the Romans, Turkish, and finally British.

But the land that they eventually had fought to retrieve, to return once more upon their possession, was moreover their mistake.

When the day had unveiled itself to us here in America, we were ultimately in the clutches of joining the war, the first American-Egyptian war, it was the sacrifice of our anger towards the Africans for the torture and pain they put us through.

Like the fools we were, we rushed into war with the Egyptians, feeling that our superiority counted enough as justice for the pain and death of our troops.

The time when we entered the desert country, only served to set an example of how the environment affects a battalion.

In 1901, we had neglected that there was much short of a bandanna and some clothing that allowed a man to tolerate the harsh conditions of the desert, the roaring sun and the riptide of sand dunes.

When we entered, we were cursed to an eternal abyss of sand and sun, with which soon the dehydration, and constant sight of sand dunes, left pressure on our very souls, mindset, and mental health.

The day that caused the two wars in Egypt, it was quiet almost calm and serene, I was aboard a navy shipping freighter, prepared to deliver trading goods to the now current day Saudi Arabia, in the Middle East.

When out of all odds I fired a flare to signal the sleeping traders that we had arrived and had ventured into their country, and as I did, the sparking of the flare was seen across the Mediterranean.

Seconds later, we were under attack, the Egyptian natives gathered forth and fired upon the freighter an explosive, the projectile destroyed the ship on impact.

Only a few of us managed to survive, washed up along the Egyptian shore, being dangerous territory we hid, among the vast sand dunes and sand stones.

We had to hide, their were several natives patrolling the area with guns and other weapons, apparently scavenged off many dead British soldiers, the threat as a whole could have been of enough intensity to destroy one's nervous system..

After the night had passed, we still remained safe, hidden behind some sand stones and some various fern trees, as I began to envision any possibility of a simple solution to the current problem, my mind could only see the sand in front of us.

"We'd better move, the sun out here gets hot enough to fry an egg", I announced to the remaining of the marines.

First, I decided to do a role call, and see if everyone had made it through the night, as I began to call Achilles, of whom I knew was right beside me I became crisised.

"Anyone see Achilles?".

"Most of us woke up only a second ago", a marine said.

"Form up, we should start looking for that fool."

"Leo come on, Achilles always gets in trouble."

"No excuses, no man left behind, now move."