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writetomyheart2013-02-22 10:43 pm
jojibear.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2013-02-22 10:43 pm
Entry tags:
[Team 2] Glory, Honour, Posterity
Uh...
Dominance, that was what all this fighting business had been about: to conquer the barbaric outlying regions, with their seemingly nomadic people and primitive cultures, and bring it all under the control of the Empire.
"For the glory of the Empire," the recruiter had claimed when asked by nervous but eager potential applicants to the Empire's army. This reason had swayed them into joining the ranks of fellow proud patriots, and they trained together, drank together, got into trouble together, but also made it through somehow - together.
"For the honour of the Emperor," the leader of the division had proclaimed on the eve of battle as the men were gathered around a large camp fire. Their hands were stretched out towards the flame, warming their hands against the chill of the night as they readied their hearts for the fight that now lay ahead of them. They knew that there were dangers from here on out, but they had made it this far - there would be no turning back now.
"For the safety of future generations," the wives and mothers had written in letters, the ink smudged by tears, the words quivering with longing for their loved ones to return to their sides. Those were the words that bolstered them, giving them courage to carry on, because despite the victories, they had seen one too many comrades cut down, had heard one too many cries of agony as fever claimed another life.
This was not what they had signed up for, young and idealistic as they had been. The bloodshed they had known to be inevitable, the injuries unavoidable - but the loss? No, that was not something they had prepared, or had been prepared for.
Dominance, that was what all this fighting business had been about: to conquer the barbaric outlying regions, with their seemingly nomadic people and primitive cultures, and bring it all under the control of the Empire.
"For the glory of the Empire," the recruiter had claimed when asked by nervous but eager potential applicants to the Empire's army. This reason had swayed them into joining the ranks of fellow proud patriots, and they trained together, drank together, got into trouble together, but also made it through somehow - together.
"For the honour of the Emperor," the leader of the division had proclaimed on the eve of battle as the men were gathered around a large camp fire. Their hands were stretched out towards the flame, warming their hands against the chill of the night as they readied their hearts for the fight that now lay ahead of them. They knew that there were dangers from here on out, but they had made it this far - there would be no turning back now.
"For the safety of future generations," the wives and mothers had written in letters, the ink smudged by tears, the words quivering with longing for their loved ones to return to their sides. Those were the words that bolstered them, giving them courage to carry on, because despite the victories, they had seen one too many comrades cut down, had heard one too many cries of agony as fever claimed another life.
This was not what they had signed up for, young and idealistic as they had been. The bloodshed they had known to be inevitable, the injuries unavoidable - but the loss? No, that was not something they had prepared, or had been prepared for.