We Were Soldiers

As my pilgrimage came to an end, I surveyed my surroundings. Old marble pillars loomed overhead. The air was thick with the cent of death; my once shining armour was now stained with the blood of my enemies.1

I was alone in the long bleak hallway. The bodies of my comrades and enemies lay strewn and butchered across the now old marble floor. I approached the altar at the end of the hall. I examined the paintings on the wall. 2

They depicted my order, I felt sick looking at “US”, what we fought for, and believed in. We looked so righteous and proud. Again I looked around. This time I felt anger. 3

Anger that I have never felt before. I unsheathed my sword and threw it against the wall. It came down with a clatter. The noise bounced off the walls and produced a reverberating echo. I pulled myself together, stood up straight and continued on my journey, which was now near an end.4

Suddenly I heard a low but steady rumbling noise. At that moment I regretted my foolish action. I needed a weapon I knelt slowly at the nearest body and picked up a sword stained with blood, I stood up, turned and looked down the hall, the noise grew louder and louder, until I wasn’t even able to think, the room seemed to shake violently, then silence.5

An eerie silence fell across the hall. I was scared. Not of what was to come, but of the silence. It was a silence that only the dead could hear. It’s as though I went deaf. I saw a silhouetted figure standing in the huge arched doorway. The man was massive in stature. He approached me with large strides.  In a couple of seconds he reached half the length of the long hall. My grip on the sword became tighter and sweaty; my breath became heavy as I readied myself for what could be my final battle. 6

As I was about to attack, my mysterious opponent raised his arm. I felt paralysed. The figure approached me. I mustered all my strength and focused it all into my arms. I managed to raise the sword. My enemy stopped. He looked up and spoke. As he looked up our eyes met. His face was weathered and wise. A scar marked his right cheek. “You are strong my friend! Strong at heart!” His voice was deep and powerful, yet it was the voice of a man, who was kind and gentle, but there was something in my head that told me not to give in to him, I kept my guard. As time passed his paralysing power grew stronger. The stronger it got the stronger I became, surprising my self, and my mysterious friend. 7

He released his hold on me and said “Peace my son. Go finish your mission!” I walked past him without looking back. I felt his gaze boring into my back giving me strength… It suddenly hit me like a thunderbolt… It was my father… He had died before I was born…8

I looked back and there was no one there! I stopped for a moment and tried to think back on what on earth just happened. Was that really my father? Or just the strength I needed, a strength that was hidden inside of me? I didn’t know. But at this point in time, I just didn’t care. I intended to walk out those doors, into the battle, and fight my home. Home, to my family. I burst out of those doors with a sword in my hand and hope in my heart. But with out intending to, I stopped.9

As the doors closed behind me I was greeted with the sight of death, pain, suffering. I couldn’t bear it. I saw friends I slept in the same room with gasping for their last breaths. Suddenly one of them plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning in blood. I couldn’t take it. I ran back into those doors, and shut them fast.10

Breathing heavily, assuming the worst, I felt my strength leave me. All I had now was my fear. A fear that the Grim Reaper himself was breathing down my neck. I slumped down onto the floor, into a position of a man who was lost. Where is the dream we were fighting for? Where the hell is the glory? Why are we fighting and dying, while the superiors just send us into battle. They think it is just a game, sending us to be mauled and massacred.11

Do I have the will to fight again? Charge onto that battle field and kill? Kill? No I know I don’t. A song. Who on earth would be singing at a time like this? Wait? I know this song, not a song in fact, a lullaby. One that used to put me to sleep. I could feel him; my father didn’t need to appear, because I could feel him inside me. 12

Like a Phoenix being born again from its ashes. I charged out onto the battle field. My sword was raised as high as my chin was.  I was unstoppable. Not even Juno the god of war would like to be my enemies’ shoes.13

I regrouped with my comrades, and onwards we charged. I gave them the will to fight, I know it. Dulce et decorum est nothing, we intend to fight and live! We fought like there was no tomorrow, and if there was it would be a better place. After the gruesome battle, we walked off victorious.14

We looked death in the face and smiled, knowing he’d be back, but not today. For today he left with out us, us who fought and won. We were heroes; people would write about this day, it would be remembered for all of history. We fought for a better world, a chance for our children, and we prevailed.15

When it was all said and done, we……we were filled with pride, we were victorious, we were soldiers.16