The deafening roar of artillery fire echoed through the air, shaking the very ground beneath our feet.

It was a day like no other on the front lines of World War I, and in the midst of this chaos I found myself at the center of a battle.

A young soldier, his uniform torn and stained, was brought before me.

He was afraid. The urgency in his eyes was unmistakable.

My name is Marie, and I was just 18 years old when in

1914 the First World War started. I was born and raised in a simple French

village. We lived on a farm intended sheep and cattle and use them to live our simple life.

I had dreams and aspirations, a burning desire to explore life beyond our little corner of the world, perhaps live in a big city someday,

but life had something very different in store for me.

My parents raised me to be compassionate and kind.

I'd always had a gift for helping others. Whether it was

tending to injured animals or nursing sick neighbors back to health, I couldn't ignore the call to help

those in need. The Great War, also called World War I, started in 1914

between my country of France and the German Empire. Other countries such as Great

Britain and the United States came to our aid, and the war soon turned into trench warfare.

This is where both sides dig trenches and fight over areas of land, using artillery and guns and other weaponry.

During the war patriotism swelled in our hearts to defend our country and a deep sense of duty took hold of

me. I couldn't sit idly by while others suffered. Many of the

boys in our town, including some of my cousins, were called to fight in the war. I wanted

to be there to help them when they were in need.

The government of France sent a message around to every village that nurses were needed to help

tend to the soldiers.

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