The prisoner of war - short story by deyan kennet

the story of a man confined by a prisoner of war, short story by deyan kennet

The chains around Clancy's hands rattled. He stood up. 
This had become his life. Everyday torture. 

Sometimes he wondered how he even got here in the first place

***
It was finally Clancy's 18th birthday. Eagerly he had waited until this day to fulfil his dreams; getting rich from joining his army. He had dreamed about this day since the dawn of time.

The first thing in the morning he went down to the post office and enrolled. This was finally it, he was going to become a soldier. 

The next thing he knew he was getting shipped out to fight in gallipoli. Such a harsh thing for an 18 year old. Little did he know that it would alter his life forever.

One day while fighting, he felt the piercing pain of lead eminate from his left leg. Clutching his leg in pain he fell to the ground. An enemy came up and shackled his hands. Would this be the end?

But no, he was captured and sent as a prisoner of war. For years he was left in isolation, daily torture. It became hell. 

***
And that was how he got here, deeply consumed by his sorrow and anguish that poisoned his existance. Everyday at 10am he woke up to ice water baths and regular beatings.

However, the next day he saw books in his room. A cruel present, he thought to himself.
But then he began to read them. He found knowledge, moral instruction, it invigorated him.
The prisoner began zealously studying philosophy and history and languages. It became a daily ritual, he began studying. It provided him with an escape from the woes of the world. He started to reflect on his life so far, his motivations, his ambitions.
He could finally see clearly. All the thought of man compressed into a small compass in my brain, he thought to himself. 
He realised how he had ended up here.
I now realise just how frivolous my desires were, frantically chasing monetary gain with no real motivations. What was the point? The blessings of the mortal world were fleeting and deceptive. I now realise just how frivolous my desires were, he thought to himself.

****
Meanwhile Roger, the army official had been thinking hard to himself. The war had become more intense and they needed to know what the opposition was planing. There was only noe way to get this: more torture

"Snuff him a little with the pillow!" he exclaimed to his men, and they went to his cell.

Clancy began to relax, he would finally get the information he needed.
But then he got apprehensive. Curious to know how the application was going he walked down to the basement.

Seeing the mistreatment of Clancy, Roger exclaimed "This is absolutely inhumane!" 

At no other time had he felt so great a contempt for himself. How could he do this? This was dastardly. Defiant in changing his ways, he decided to let Clancy go. He walked up and kissed him on the head, opening up the cages so that next morning he would be able to get up and walk out.
War, what was the point?