And there rose a cry......(short passage not new story)

[scarypuppy]

 For those Fallen in WW1 (Never Falter, Never Cease, NEVER BREAK)


The Fires Burned Ceacelessly, their smoke billowing up into the sky with an almost peaceful loft in their movement and progression. the corpses decaying in their holes and on No man's land and in the Steel Coffins prepared for them gave off a smell fouler than the breath of Satan and all his Demons. A Man Stood alone in the midst of this hellish vision of Man's true Brutality. He stood with a bitter smile upon his face as he looked upon the body of the German before him, his hands clutched tightly at his throat, holes throughout his body. The soldier's smile faded into a look of remorse, crouching with the assistance of his rifle to take off his helmet and bow his head before this destroyed life. A tear rolled down his ashen cheek, hitting the starved ground which swallowed it without hesitation. "Brother, What have I done?" A slight quiver in his voice begins, "are you any more of a devil than I am for taking your life?" His steady knee began to shake, "Dear Almighty, Am I justified in taking his life, is mine any more important, am I meant for greatness?" another tear rolled down his cheek, hanging off the small above his lip, "A year ago i would not have dreamed of killing you Brother." the German remains silent, as always, non-moving, unfeeling, cold as the ground upon which he lay. The soldier dropped to both knees, his rifle falling uselessly to the ground, and layed his head upon the German's Breast, his sorrowful breathing and mournful heart filling the silence that permeated the area around them. "Why, I don't See why, couldnt you and I have been Brothers, We are now, Brothers in Combat, Brothers in Death, Brothers in Life, Only I have no life left, I have taken Life from another, I am Dead, nothing remains inside me but regret and loss." the German's silence begins to enrage the soldier. "Speak DAMN YOU, WHY WONT YOU SPEAK!" the German offers no answer, "Please, speak, I cant stand your silence." The quiet is uninterrupted, save for the few birds perching themselves on the upturned bayonetts of the fallen and the contorted bodies of the dead. The soldier moves the German's hands to his chest, covering the wound upon his neck with his collar, closing his eyes and propping up his head on his helmet, careful not to muss his hair. The soldier stood slowly, wiping away the tears from his eyes, A soldier doesn't cry, not for the enemy at least, yet, in his heart, indeed, his very soul, he knew, this man was not his enemy, he was a thought, a distant fear or concept of a human evil, not some supernatural threat that went against his God, but Rather a man in a different uniform and from a different country. The soldier checked his rifle and helmet, trodding off into the collecting mist. the Soldier took one last look back, the sun breaking from the clouds long enough for the reflective rainwater pools to shine on the dead man, his peace mocking him. The Soldier turned back to his path and pulled on his Gasmask, the telltale yellow mist of mustard gas creeping in with the rolling mist.

"Dont Cry Maiden, for War is Kind."

"These men were born to drill....and die."

"A Field Where A Thousand Corpses Lie"