The Spirit of War
Issued to another man, I prepared to relive the cycle of the battlefield. For days on end, I clung to the soldier, trembling and waiting in the trenches. The sense of fear descended on the soldiers, soaking me with broken emotions. Down the line, I saw more men, reflections of the ongoing horrors. Each, armed like clones. An anonymous army.
I was drowning. Suffocated by the stench of war. The invasive, toxic, unending smell of the battlefield. The sites couldn’t be considered better. Screaming, howling cries of enraged fighters. I harboured more than my soldier. I had to come home to many more than just men. Infected by thousands of lice, fighting my own little war.
Day through night, the Sun spectated be hellish sights on earth. Time called by, it seemed an eternity. The painful cries of the soldiers, comparable only to the Damned souls in hell.
Then in a single second, it changed. My soldier. My fighter. He felt lifeless from the wall. His grip reduced to nothing. A bullet past through the both of us. Blood stream from his shoulder as he fell. He had lost his war. It was time for someone to replace him.
Another spirit of war.
By Michael Liu