World War I

January 21, 2011
We stand as one.
A dark line of warriors,
Staggering, weary, waiting for the end.
As men we are broken,
Our last threads of hope sewn together by brotherhood,
Our dreams for the future shattered.
We are but infants,
Barely having a taste of life
Before being thrown in front of the enemy.
We are taught to kill, and we are taught to survive.
All else is a mystery until we have faced our opponent.
Each day we wait for the horror to end,
For the world to give in and see the destruction.
We are not fighting for ourselves.
We are not angry, or hostile.
We do not know the enemy.

Whispers of peace whistle lightly through the air
Then suddenly splinter and shower across the battlefield.
More victims fall.
And the murmuring is silenced.
Devastation engulfs our men.
And as death approaches, we become savages.
Our nails dig into the torn-up earth,
As we lash out at our adversaries, clinging desperately to life.
We feel nothing, we know no fear.
There is no time to think,
We run, we shoot, we dash for cover.
And then we continue.
In these moments, we are concerned only with living.
All other thoughts lie silent in our minds.

But we are not savages.
We do not want to kill.
We have hope for life.
And we have hope for the future.
So here we stand.
We fight for our brothers
And for our country.
We are united.
We are strong.
We are soldiers.

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