Today, I returned home, noticeably a tired soldier who seems to have just arrived at the very gate of his hometown, where he had set his foot upon a few years back when he left for war. He was visibly shaken and seem like a lost, distraught man except in his eyes, it still possess the slightest amount of hope. A hope that he could overcome his handicap and have a peaceful life from this day onwards. This unknown soldier had just lost both his legs and 3 fingers, for what? He still didn't know. However, there wasn't any peace to be, as we know, World War 2 kicked off in 20 years time, even when most of the countries have not even fully recovered from the previous one...

He adjusted his battered helmet slightly just as he would to a hat, and pushed himself in... Everyone was shocked to see the now worn face of his once handsome young face. His cheeks has shrunken tremendously with its cheekbone protruding out awkwardly. He has done his part and fulfilled his duties well and now has he really return home to enjoy life? Or so it seems, the war has ended and the Germans have surrendered. The world war is finally over. The French, British, and Russian have fought bravely, so have the A-H, Germans and the Turks. But for what cause? What have they gained, nothing positive could have resulted from this longish periods of armed conflicts.

A few generations of some of the world's genius and talents have had some unknown deaths or probably have their researches halt to help develop battle machines and systems. Sometimes, when war is viewed from another perspective, it need not be between the British and German, or any other countries. Did the Germans kill French because they hated them to the deepest core? Or did the British kill some Germans just because it was a fun sport? I think not, they don't even know each others' names much less know how to pronounce one. It is also likely that war is generated or provoked by generals and high power wielding officials, those who sit by the table smoking cigars, looking at maps they don't fully understand, who refused to go down to the battle fronts to observe, yet are the one deciding the fate of countless soldiers.

Fighting a war does not neccessay make people senseless killing machines, this is really evident, but they just had to kill... On Christmas Day in France firing stopped in the front line, British and Germans soldiers in No Man's Land, gossiped, exchange cigarettes. In some places they played football. They met again the next day... Then, after strong rebuke from the headquarters, firing gradually started again. In the churches at home, prayers were offered for victory and for the slaughter of the men who were exchanging cigarettes. The soldiers knew nothing about war, but just to get to the other side of the line in one piece...
An English Poet, J. C. Squire, wrote: