8/18/2019 Twisted Travel Tales - The Sorrow of War

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The Sorrow of War –  A Fictional Account of the TruthI didn’t actually feel it when whatever it was hit me and threw me to the ground. I guess I

thought when you where hit by bullets or shrapnel you would feel something sharp, yeah, a

sharp stabbing pain, but it wasn’t like that. 

One second ago all there was, was the fear, unnerving determination, and whiteness fromthe cordite. Oh yeah the smell too, of rotten vulture carcasses and fireworks. It was just that

and the sound of my panting breath as I crawled over the ditches. With not much more than

five bullets and a pointy stick I ran towards the enemy. Then ‘whoomp, whoomp, whoomp’

and all I knew from then was the swirling clouds and crows. The pounding thuds of the

 bombs that fall short of their targets, the chainsaw sound of the Gatling gun and that smell,

that god awful smell that came to us when we first hit the front line.

The whistle, I hear it clear because the, ‘ack ack ’ of the machine guns has stopped. Before

the whistle started, it was my hearing that scared me the most.

I’ve been frightened before, thought I would never be so frightened again, but that wasn’t

true. One minute ago while standing on that ladder , I thought I was the most frightened I’d

ever be in my life, one hour before that, the same. Although then we were able to hide our

true emotions behind a poker game. And one day? Well when we first got off the truck and

smelt - what turned out to be - the living, moaning, screaming, crying dead?! Well then?!

Then?! Well hell, I sure as shit thought I couldn’t be more frightened than right then, but it

turned out I could. Really by then? Afraid hadn’t even begun.

At that point although I didn’t know it; although I’d experienced so much during that week

of; now what did they call it? Rest and restitution or some shit? I don’ t know; R & R, but

really to us; all us ‘brave soldiers’ heading to the front line; to the trenches? It was called,

 pussy, beer and punch ups, but hey, I guess it kept our minds off of what was actually

happening to us. We were going to the meat grinder man, and they actually had us cheering

for it on the way.

And that’s the sick part; one month ago, we thought the fighting and struggling between

each other at training camp would be the worst casing of emotional hell that life could deal a

 bunch of lads. Lads who looked forward to replacing their fathers at the factory, the mill, or

the yard.

We celebrated our final days of high school only one year ago. We thought that was

innocence, ha innocence, but what is that? One second, one minute, one hour, one day, one

week, one month, one year...One life; or not really one life, because war never really is like that is it? Never only takes

one life! Because it takes the past, our past, the future, our future, and the now, yours and

mine.

War takes the sane and turns them insane, it takes the Right and turns it into the Wrong.

It leaves everything to the guile of the one who killed the most... And eventually; well

after all of that?

It leaves nothing but lessons of hate

And that is; The Sorrow of War.