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He scrambles through the drenching fields like a snail drowning at deep sea. He hears the voices from the trenches; the souls speak as they drown in their own blood. He climbs the only tree left standing to see his men at the front lines. He is close now, a feeling of despair as he wipes his cold sweat. His heart throbbing with uncertainty, the wretched look on his face influences untruth. It seems the veteran is at war.

He looks on with disbelief, to find that his men lay there helplessly. He realises he is the only one that remains. There is no chance of survival. His futurity is lost. They promised him success but they knew only false expectation.

He has to return now, as there is nothing left. To desert would be to betray his land. Though he was now defenceless and would return in dishonour. He limps across the abandoned field with a feeling of criminality. He returns to his trench to collect the remains. Dust fills his lungs, an evil feeling of adversity as he mourns over the bodies. He stays low as enemy troops patrol the bloody fields.

He must flee now to risk virtuous death. And so he climbs out the trench and again crawls to safety back to the dark forests. Now the day has reached its end, dusk falls in as the horizon’s light shines upon this battlefield of betrayal and fidelity. As he keeps his guard he comes across another ally trench and notices a fellow soldier laying there gasping a hold of a gunshot wound to his side. The soldier grieves with growing pains as his tears soak through the mud he lies on, a loud cry for help is sounded. The soldier’s flag by his arm was an indication of where he stands in this field the flag was impenetrable.

Here he stood gazing at this defenceless enemy soldier. He seems so unblemished; he is futile now and will lay here waiting his moment of decease. The veteran’s duty as a soldier is complete and to kill this enemy would be to murder. He proceeds with his journey to escape. Realising he had done wrong and is a traitor to his homeland.

A loud cry is heard deep in the forests, the soldier glances at his hands and sees blood shed over his arms. He falls in pain and drags himself into an enemy trench. His breathing is made awkward and his sight is barley visible. He finds himself lying in a pool of gushing blood. He coughs blood and fears close death. He drops his weapons and lies there patiently awaiting assistance or slow death. His body had been torn by shards of Metal. He lays bleeding out, watching his life pulse and ebb away, fully conscience and believing death imminent.

As he clenches his wound in misery, his bleak vision sees a swarthy shadow in the shape of a soldier. As the shadow drew nearer he saw a man approaching, sobbing like a child. His sadness owed to a battle of blunder and non-success. With his feet shuddering and his arms battered, he limps across to the veteran soldier in distress.

The wounded veteran is overjoyed a fellow soldier has come to his aid. They gaze at each other bluntly. There stood a man holding his gun, with a white bandage around his waist, blood dripping from his side. His face scraped and his eyes bloated like an over-flatted balloon. He stands on his two feet haggard, breathing vigorously. He raises his weapon in anxiety, as he stares at the soldier sinfully.

The veterans mind begins to spin like a trundle wheel being pushed down a hill. He retains the memory of coming across a wounded soldier. This soldier had been shot and lay there in a trench as harmless as a dove. That same wounded soldier was standing alongside an enemy veteran soldier who reprieved his life. The veteran sees an image of both soldiers departing the field as they came to each other’s aid. He had done his duty as a man to spare another unthreatening life.

The soldier raises his gun and points the barrel towards the veteran’s chest. No compassion is shown as he prepares to pull the trigger. The soldier looks on in dissent, to think he was going to return the liberty of sparing his life. The soldier lifts his gun making it clear that no mercy will be shown in this war.

Two murderous gunshots were heard; the silence of the night was broken. Like his team, he lay there helplessly. The apparent brave veteran soldier that feared vengeance was dead. For his sympathy he suffered. But to show no mercy would have left him walking off that battlefield alive and triumphant.



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