The Battleground

The blood-stained sky stretches across the field as the fog melts away.  It's late spring.  The tension rises as wary eyes trained on small targets waiver.  The men are alert with exhaustion.  Tattered uniforms and ragged caps drape the gaunt frames and grim faces.

This is war.  This is the ground that bubbles with more blood than water.  It is here that boys turn to  men and men to boys.  It's here that the fear of growing old is wiped away by the fear of death.

Jaws set hard with determination hide chattering teeth.  These men's bones are cold with fear and hot with rage.  These men stand strong, knowing they must fight for those lost along the way and those yet to come.

It is here, and only here, that the reality of death knocking at one's door rings true.  

Author's Note

any thoughts?

Reviews

[Haunzwürthe]

What you're able to do, and what you've done, is to take a story and capture a moment in time with specifically vivid details in such a small amount of words, like a single cell of the old school animation sequences. Very well done.