How did I get here? I never held a gun and there I stood, gun in hand, defending some meaningless bunker on a hill. I looked in the eyes of the enemy across a stagnant foggy field. Sunlight would occasionally dart in and out and the enemy became visible. I looked in their eyes and they were no different than me. A commander called from behind a vague command. I shot a man in the stomach. His head twisted in dismay. I felt sick and vomited violently. A bird sang a song of harmony. This was not my war.
Mimi Grouse
30/9/2022 02:41:26 pm
Nice one, Mark. The people who start wars almost never participate in them. This paints an accurate picture of the whole tragic thing. 30/9/2022 04:45:38 pm
Rarely, and I do mean very rarely, is this ever "my war."
Sue Clayton
2/10/2022 06:05:05 am
Most soldiers, on whatever side, would feel sickened by war, and sick at the thought of killing someone. Wherever there are warmongers there will be no harmonic birdsong. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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