To Protect the Innocent

Posted: October 2, 2014 in Uncategorized

The sound of the snare drum punched the air with short raps. The flag bearers led the congregation through the cobblestone streets, which shook and clapped against the worn muddy boots of the soldiers who marched behind them. Some were young, ideal, late to the fight. To them, the victory of the day was a thing to be boastful for. The grizzled, tired men further behind them had been fighting for years that felt like centuries. There was no joy in this march, no sense of pride, just the prisoner’s freedom before them of homes that had changed in their absence, people who grew while others ceased to at their hands.

There wasn’t an end to the misery for these men, only a lack of danger. Some would re-enlist when the next conflict erupted in two years’ time, not knowing how else to move on. Others would sit quietly in their public houses, drinking the stiffest liquors and hoping nobody felt like discussing current events that day. War changes a country. It does so one man at a time.

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