Peace

Cold, hard steel, freezing away in a winter wasteland. Seems fitting, does it not?

The blizzard seemed endless, nothing could be seen before me, or behind me for that matter. The sound of roaring engines, violent explosions and the clashing of steel had stopped, and the absence of the usual smell of gunpowder, ashes and death was not hard to notice. I was not sure whether to be relieved, jubilant, or worried about this, as in its place, there was the growing sense of dread as the skies and ground and everything else turned white, shrieking howls of winter beasts in the distance, and an empty bottle of whisky in my pocket.

It was then that I had found a bit of hope; a lonely, shimmering, dim piece of light shining through the horizon. I rushed to it, dropping my more heavy equipment before discovering that it was in fact, a sort of shelter — a small cave — and there was clearly someone inside, as the artificial lighting and small bits of warm air surely pointed out. I should have been more ready, but I was desperate to get out of the cold, so I rushed to it and peered inside.

A gun was thrusted to my face. It was the enemy. The symbol on his jacket had proved it. “I’m a dead man” I thought, raising my hands and accepting my fate. To my surprise, confusion and, of course, delight, he didn’t shoot me. Instead he lowered the barrel of his gun and gestured me to join him in his small yet cozy shelter. Oddly enough he gave me everything from pieces of food to drinking water and general kindness.

Grateful, but confused, I asked him why he would do such a thing. After all, it would have been more beneficial for him to kill me outright and take my things; he had no reason to help me. He answered merely by smiling and saying, “In the dead of the storm, away from the bullets and buried by snow, does the war even matter?”

I thought about it. I suppose not, though one may argue either way.

“It’s in my nature to help people you see.” He continued. “That’s why I entered this war in the first place. I thought I could help people by defending my nation. I don’t know if that’s true, but right now, I know for sure I’m helping you; and that’s enough for me.”

Fine words, indeed. But the fact of the matter was that even though we shared the fate of being lost, it was also true that not far from there raged a war which would ultimately foretell the future of our nations. To this he only said “Are you not tired, friend? Of fighting for feuds, not made by ourselves, but by men and women in big safe houses? Of protecting our people by molesting those of the opposing side? Of bringing peace by killing?”

“Of course I am.”

“Then take a bit of a break, would you?”

He offered me some tea he had stashed near his bag, and insisted for me to drink it. So I did. It was amazing. After all, it was very rare for people to have decent tea in that blood-ridden battlefield, but his tea felt incredible; it felt real. “How did you acquire this tea?” I asked him, and he smiled before telling me a story about an innocent child he once saved from a building. His comrades had killed the child’s parents. They were the enemy, after all. I would probably have done the same, for there may be fighters dressed as civilians in the heat of combat. Seeing this child, however, he stopped. He saw that the child was holding a gun, and so he lowered his weapons and gave the child some of his rations — it was the least he could do. However, that child refused to take the food for himself and instead proposed a trade, his tea for the rations. Amused, the deal was made. The child, insistent on fending for himself, kept to himself, and was left alone once again.

“That’s quite a sad story.” I remarked.

“Indeed.” He said, before taking a light sip. “I had offered the child something he needed yet instead he gave me something much more precious. In the end, I did not know if my limited rations would have helped him, but perhaps letting him go in peace was enough for him, and he tried to repay me with this tea, which also brings peace to me. Does it bring some to you?”

“Perhaps.” I said as I too took another sip, feeling its warmth light up my consciousness and perhaps thaw my heart a small bit. We then conversed and retold our stories, careful not to divulge sensitive information but at the same time sharing enough so that the tales, often amusing in nature, became comprehensible. It was strange. A few moments ago I was freezing in the dead of winter, abandoned and feeling hopeless as I walked through a lost part of the battlefield, but now, with the so-called enemy by my side I am at ease and, somewhat, in peace. It has reminded me that, indeed, the people we were fighting were just that — people.

Not long after, however, the sound of marching boots and the thinning of the wind could be heard. I took a look outside, and realized that they were my countrymen — the men who have left me stranded here for hours, and the men who would kill my new friend on sight. Realizing this, I quickly told him of the coming of my comrades, and he only smiled. I told him to escape, but he said that he had a better idea, that he wanted to be freed. He made no sense to me and I made him know that. His response was candid, saying “My friend, look at my badges and tell me what you see?”

I was shocked as I did what he told. He was the head general of the opposing army. He told me that if he could be killed, then the battle would be over, that lives will be saved. I told him that the war would not be over even if that happened. In response, he simply said “My friend, does war ever end? At least this way, there will be less pain.”

As he said that, the men surrounded the cave, and one of them spotted us and started shouting for the others to follow. He then placed a gun in my hand and said “Please, set me free, my friend.” He smiled. “Be a good man.”

Ice cold tears started flowing from my eyes as I pointed my gun to his forehead. “I promise I will save the children” I said “I promise to honor your memory, to ease the pain of this land, to end this war.”

He merely smiled and said. “Good bye, friend.”

Pulling the trigger, I said good bye, and set him free. Free from the bloodshed, from pain and misery, as well as duty and honor, his face seemed finally in peace. My colleagues would soon discover us and ask who he was, and I merely answered “A friend, an enemy, and the greatest man I’ve ever met.”