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Six | She lost him to war

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There were times when he forgot the purpose. There were times when he missed what he left behind. There were times he wondered when it would all end.

War is not child's play. Death could be his reality any day.

Living on the frontline broke him, then hardened him, on a daily basis. Patriotism and camaraderie had carried him through ten months, but the psychological battle was always uphill. He needed more faith and strength each day to go through ten other.

He missed his wife and family. He had never met his son. He survived on the few letters sent from home, which came infrequently, perhaps one in a few months. And on days when such an envelope reached him, he cried from heartache, of not knowing when he could return.

* * *

Awaking in the middle of the night, he promptly geared up like other soldiers. Attack. There had been an attack. They were mobilised to the borders in pitch black to fend against a surprise attack, several miles from the main forces.

They forged their way through the grass, fighting against darkness around them and within them. No one could see the fearful fears in his face, hell, no one in this world could see anything. No one could see that war was foolish. He crouched low behind rubble. Positioned shoulder-to-shoulder, the men raised their muskets and took aim.

He wondered if his enemies shared his fears. He wondered if, stripped of the label "enemy", they were just people like him, longing for peace, longing to be reunited with loved ones. That if they had been born in a better world, they would not be antagonistic to one another. That even if they could not see each other in the dark, they would not be pointing guns at each other like a hunter with its prey.

Still, he took fire.

* * *

He first conscripted three years ago, at seventeen, along with her brothers, a few short weeks after their marriage. He promised to return within a year, but there were always new battles to be fought, new battles to be won.

Day turned to night and night turned to day, and she longed to be in his embrace again. The letters stopped altogether one day, but she prayed and kept the faith. That even if he had started a family elsewhere, he was still alive.

She waited for five years, then ten, and before she knew it, the war was over.

And it was one uneventful day when a man came over to her home and handed her a dog tag.

She wrapped her fingers around it, shut her eyes. She let the cold breeze take away her tears.