The thunder rolls and the ground shakes. Sand splashes into the air staining the horizon with smoke and dust. The Beauty is none like I have ever seen.
I grip my rifle tighter and move forward.
The ground to my front erupts like a volcano with fire smoke and debris.
The air shakes and then the thunder cracks the sky.
I grip my rifle tighter and move forward.
There is nothing else to do, but to keep going forward, into the fight.
War is not glorious as it is written in books.
It is only glorious in the moment. Once you walk among the destruction and dead, and the thunder no longer fills the skies, there is only the feelings of lost and shame.
There is no true glory in the end, only peace for those that die and pain for those that live.
I grip my rifle tighter and await the sound of thunder.
