Tales from the Foxhole

Why Are We Here?

There was one thing that Wardens and Colonials can agree on, despite being at war for a hundred years. Caovish was fucking cold.

Even cities like Abandoned Ward were icy cold on the warmest of days. Any day without snow was considered a miracle.

Inside a tall building, or rather what remained of it, were two Wardens, armed with a sniper rifle and a pair of binoculars. One Warden, private Dylan, was watching the ground below through the scope of his sniper rifle, his back was against the wall, making sure to stay away from the window. Many rookies were killed because their barrel stuck out.

His partner, corporal Caden, was sitting down wrapped in a thick blanket. The two were silent as they listened to the ambience of frosty winds, artillery shells, and gunfire. They had been stuck fighting in this city for months.

Dylan broke the silence. "Hey."

Caden looked up. "Yeah?"

"Why are we here?"

Caden thought for a moment. "You know what?" He asked. "I have no idea." Dylan looked at him with an eyebrow raised above the other.

"I mean, why are we here, fighting a never ending war?" Caden began to rant. "I mean, do we even know why we're fighting anymore? Is there a reason for us to keep this up?"

He shifted in the blanket as wind seeped through and bit at his exposed skin. "Why are we here? I don't even remember, I've been fighting for so long that I don't even know what to do if I ever get out. What is there to do outside the army that doesn't involve war?"

"You're either gathering scrap to turn into metal, or building the weapons and equipment to supply the troops. What's there to do that doesn't involve war?" Caden curls in on himself.

"What's even the point anymore? Why do we have to kill each other? Can't we just... get along?"

Dylan sighed and lowered his rifle. "No, Caden, I meant why are we here, in this building, when we could be at that other building over there." He pointed at a building down the street, of a similar height to the one they were in. It had less walls, and the top floor was gone.

"Where we can see the enemy better."

Caden perked up. "Oh easy. This building is way warmer."

Dylan looked at Caden, then the other building, and shrugged.

"True." He slid from his position and handed the rifle over to Caden. "It's your turn now, mister Philosopher."

Caden sighed, and traded the rifle for his blanket. This was the pattern as they waited for a target. Though Caden hoped for another quiet night.