The man who was leading us into this battle field ready to kill an hour ago, was now telling us to relax, and think of lost forgotten time. A tear came to my eye as the thought that I will never see my love again. never to hold, or to praise.
As the man sitting on the rock behind me stud to his feet with weapon in hand started to walk to the front. I could hear the words filled with such angst comming from deep with in him,"there is to much in this world that I have never felt, fear of death, Or the honor of war."
The man fought proudly, and his life was taken by a better man. on that lonesum day, many were lost. The few that lived show there scars from the honor of war, there marks of death, to all that would stop to hear them.
The names, faces, have all been changed over the years. The stories have rang true for the ones that did not come back alive.
Men Younger than I am now, forever saved in time by the stories of there herroic acts. That is the true honor."A hero is some on that dies young," I hear them say once in a while. But a true hero is some one that gives there life for there cause, May it be noble.