The Tragedy Of The War I

800 Words4 Pages
I can see the shattered vase on the window sill, with the water dripping down onto the floor. I remember every single moment, even though it was 60 years ago; since my return from WWII. But there was still one moment that I’ll never forget. I thought after the war it would be the end of that story; it wasn’t. I’ve kept it a secret for all these years. And each time I remember this agonizing memory my heart is stabbed further by that knife. Its name is so infernal, it was called; depression. 3rd of May 1945, 4am, the war had almost finished but nobody knew at the time. I was in the vulgar trench, lying in the mud thinking of what I’d done. I- dare I say- murdered people. Stripping them of their lives, snatching away their future. What kind of person was I? But I had no choice. I had turned my back to everyone back home and had nothing; except time to kill. For the past 6 years I had stayed in these trenches, climbing up when my name was called and then running with a rifle shooting individuals. Watching them drop dead one after the other, trying to avoid each bullet that was shot at me. I was a lucky one who had only got shot once. However that day I was shot in my heart for the first time. My name was called that day, I was absolutely scared. But my best friend stood by me and reassured I would be fine. I swiftly collected my rifle and dragged the instrument of death across the mud. I placed it upon my back, struggling to bear the weight, and climbed up. I asked the soldier
Open Document