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War Was A Cruel And Dark Life For A Soldier

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War was a cruel and dark life for a soldier for the life of a soldier is scarred with innumerable deaths. Before I knew it the battle had come upon my village and destroyed half before we could even think about a counterstrike. I was a captain under a commanding general who was disciplinary by all aspects. “Stand fast men we’ve only a week left in this bloody war and I do not want to be dead by first light tomorrow” Commanding General speaking, “On the hill, Rebels.” “Captain put some sense into that thick skull of yours and get out there and kill ‘em.” “Right away sir” Author speaking, “Okay Ill go up the side with my troops and flank the west end of the army.” “Charge!” “Show no mercy.” As I slew my last death a complication had aroused in my mind. For in the night of the massacre, the thought of my own selfish pride almost swallowed me whole. The thought that I held the choice of life and death in the very palms of my hands had made me weak, for it was the first time I second guessed myself. The thought that I might be responsible for some or many deaths would bury me in the ground as the suffering of people would flood back in if I executed the task. The task to smite down my enemies where they stand on the battlefield no matter what the consequences might be. There is a reason why men fall when they put their trust into those who do not see them as equal. Perhaps, it is because they could not earn their trust to its fullest extent, or maybe it is because they put their

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