of War and Peace

         The shelling have been going on for three weeks. Sleep, its nothing more than a distant memory of something sweat long gone; like everything else you ever loved. The stench of thousands of men cramped in the trenches waiting for their number to be up, trembling in fear, pouring sweat, resonates in the nostrils; enough to make you sick. The moans and screams coming from no man's land where the diseased, injured, living, and dead all roam aimlessly through the burnt ground and the smoke, haunts the soul. What little rest one could steal are ailed with those terrifying cries of the night.

         The night promises nothing but nightmares brought to life. War is nothing less.  Not only must we have the same worries as our father's before us; of bullets, bombs, and poisonous gases, but ever since the Military Resurrection act of 2035 we now have to worry about killing every man, woman and child twice. In the trenches you hug you back wall, with gun and bayonet pointed out. You dig in as much as you can and wait and pray that all that barbed wire is enough to tangle up the maimed, mindless masses out there. All of them roaming aimlessly, searching for some living flesh to chew on. Those who were injured beyond saving are left out there to keep the undead going over night. The irony of it all.

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         The General was a man of great stature. He stood tall, with his chin slightly elevated, a very proud man. In every detail about him, from the creases in his uniform to the placement and shine of his innumerable medals, all showed the great accomplishments of his long and successful career. All embodied the great accomplishments of his Country and People. To his right stood the Representative. A small shivering man, no medals laid on his chest, no pride rested in his mind. The greatness of his Country and People were not in sight, instead he spoke of the accomplishments. He spoke of them so that his People would follow him blindly and without question to what he promised. He stands hard pressed against the wind, holding tightly to his hat, head held low.

         As the plane circles around to the General and the Representative a long black car pulls up. I am here to talk of peace and reason. I can see that the General smiles as he waits for my arrival, but not a smile of friendship. It is a smile of contempt. He knows that he must greet and talk with me as the world's eyes carefully watch us. He must seem as a great understander of sides, not just a war hungry general. I fear that he is the later. The Representative I have met with before, and many more like him. He is a man who is after only what he craves most, the power to control others. He cares not of the suffering of men but of the pampering of himself and others like him.