Entry #11: Comrades.
In my early to mid twenties I helped train a younger marksman to become an expert sniper. He was just two years younger than I. He was my spotter and we went on a lot of missions together. He was the first friend I had and for a long time, one of the only two living people I trusted. He wasn't perfect, but no one is. Though, he was damn near close in skill and loyalty.
A lot more soldiers made it through the sniping school than should have been permitted to graduate. It's all about relying on technology, which is something I find sickening. And the soldiers paid for it with their lives, getting in over what they could mentally handle. Their skills didn't match up to the demands of battle and if they had partners, they were betrayed in defections or surrenders. Or they abandoned one another when the front lines came close with their shells, or when bombs flew overhead.
There is nothing that disgusts me more than a betrayal of that kind.
It's not advisable to bury the dead in the East. The ground is poor and hard to dig in most of the battlefields we fought in, save in the swamps at the borders to the south. Stahl and I also had orders to destroy one another's bodies if the other died for classified reasons. When Stahl's head was blown off, I burned his body and scattered the ashes.
He died honorably. He shouldn't have died, that war was even more pointless than most I've read about. But he still died protecting his brothers and what he believed in. I scorched the ground with fire.
It took the enemy's planes a month to put their crops, houses and plains out with water. It wasn't pointless destruction; the town and crops were only housing troops.
Rest in peace, my friend.
A lot more soldiers made it through the sniping school than should have been permitted to graduate. It's all about relying on technology, which is something I find sickening. And the soldiers paid for it with their lives, getting in over what they could mentally handle. Their skills didn't match up to the demands of battle and if they had partners, they were betrayed in defections or surrenders. Or they abandoned one another when the front lines came close with their shells, or when bombs flew overhead.
There is nothing that disgusts me more than a betrayal of that kind.
It's not advisable to bury the dead in the East. The ground is poor and hard to dig in most of the battlefields we fought in, save in the swamps at the borders to the south. Stahl and I also had orders to destroy one another's bodies if the other died for classified reasons. When Stahl's head was blown off, I burned his body and scattered the ashes.
He died honorably. He shouldn't have died, that war was even more pointless than most I've read about. But he still died protecting his brothers and what he believed in. I scorched the ground with fire.
It took the enemy's planes a month to put their crops, houses and plains out with water. It wasn't pointless destruction; the town and crops were only housing troops.
Rest in peace, my friend.