I drop as I feel a strong sting go straight through me. I cry out in pain, looking around at my dead friends scattered around me.
I try and get up but the barbed wire pulls me down, stabbing into my legs. I keep trying and trying to get up but it’s no use.
I just want to get home to my family and friends. Why did I sign up for this?
As I lean down onto the grass and lower my gun, I think about my wife and the times we had together in the forest that was in our little town. I remember craving our names into one of the trees. MJ+HS. Mark Johnson and Heather Smith.
Tears rolled down my face. I remember more of her.
I just hope she and others will remember me
Mak, I like the description of the image, it is such a sad sight to see what once were healthy living human beings become waste of fodder to the horrors of war. Yes we will always remember them. Maumahara kia a rātou.
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