I made this in school for work
Leaves flatten under the weight of heavy duty boots. Gun cannons lifted to the birds above, awaiting commands. The rain drizzles the swamp-green helmets like a gentle poke, occasionally irritating the faces of soldiers. That’s what he remembers. Sergeants hold their hand up, pausing their progress. A new era shall soon begin. That’s what he remembers. And finally, the dazing bang of the explosives, the firearms and the deafening barking of commands. That’s what he remembers. At last, the battle was won, but not without cost. That’s what he remembers. Gore spreads across the ex-field they call a wasteland. He returns home, grief and guilt filling his eyes with tears.
“At least, that’s what I remember.” The children’s uncle said, glaring at the auburn leaves below, once crushed by heavy duty boots.
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