We Will Remember

A Man Made on the Battlefield

Everything before him was make-believe. Nothing was real. He couldn't think of the past now; if he did, he would swear it was a dream. No matter what his "wife" told him, no matter what she said about caring for his "kids", he would never believe her. He knew he didn't have a wife or kids. All he had was a gun and a round of full-jacketed bullets. He didn't have a family, friends, a life far away from this battlefield. His life is here, always was here, always will be here. He cast his eyes across No Man's Land to the other side. The Nazis side. The enemy, always the enemy, no matter how you put it.

Back to his job, he thought to himself. The job of war. Caressing his gun to warm it up, he turned back to face his allies, comrades, whatever you may call it. And the foolish man, standing above the trench so all the Germans could see him was the commander. He sighed. His commander. Even he could do better than that. He had to worship at the commander's feet in adoration, as he was the boss. But really, he didn't care for the boss at all. Not at all.

No life would see it fit to send him out to war now. But this is war. Not just any war, this is World War.

This is World War, however many numbers you want to put on the end. There have been too many wrongdoings done to count, even more hearts broken, souls crushed, lives taken, bones disintegrated, captives jailed, traitors murdered, spies stoned, too many to count.

But then there are those who bring the best out of people. He remembered how many tokens given, lives sacrificed, wins gained, women loved, sweethearts cherished, mates found, love found. All found. But not for this man made on the battlefield. He didn't love, no, couldn't love. After all that he'd seen, killing was his job and he could not love someone without killing them. Whether he wanted it or not, they would be killed.

You'll see. You'll all see.

You will see a man, broken by war, lying on a ground coated with shrapnel from wars long ago. He may have been praised then but never now.

This is what the man made on the battlefield sees. He sees the now and the future. Never the past.

 For if he saw the past, he would gain humanity. You can never have humanity on the field of Death. You have to be executioner to the dozens of souls that you reap. You don't care about why they ended up on the front. You just take their life and get on with the next person.

A man made on the battlefield is a legal assassin. Just remember that as you see him staring at your face. You look at him and before you know, you're dead. That's a man made on the battlefield.

Don't you forget it.