[ WP ] While fighting in the frontline trench during ww1 , the dead corpses start to rise . No one has a clue what to do and suddenly it 's a war against the undead .

We did n't know what to do, so we slowly started to retreat. 
 
 behind us, their silhouettes visible through the misty night, the bodies of our fallen Comrades. 
 
 The retreat was chaos. just as noone can describe the feeling you get when you see a dead soldier, holding a rfle and wearing your uniform, shot in the head or drop dead from the toxic gas, the feeling you get when you then see that same man slowly rise, open his eyes and focus his hollow stare on you. 
 
 The first ones were a small failed ambush by the enemy, all killed by a rogue grenade. 
 
 in the early morning, we got their bodies and buried them, but then they started to rise. 
 
 they killed a dozen men before they were shot down for good, dismembered and burned. 
 
 the commander shrugged it off as a fluke of nature, perhaps a side effect of the Chemical weapons. 
 
 but then, it happened again. one or two dead soldiers started wandering the field inbetween the trenches, knocked down repeadedly by the crossfire, only to stand up again and again. 
 
 one of them made it to my trench, the one on the vers front, fixed his eyes on the man to my left, and then jumped and mauled him faster then I could react. 
 
 They were now two. 
 
 before anyone even knew whjat was happening, their numbers doubled and tripled, and were growing fast. 
 
 from one to a thousand, they say. 
 
 It was simply too much to handle. how do you defeat an enemy that uses your dead as soldiers? even without rifles or trenches, their sheer numbers, now also boosted by the now so insignificant enemy began to advance on us. 
 
 and we did n't know what to do, so we fled.
