He stood there in his well-starched uniform and for a few seconds didn’t seem to have any words to utter. He was in total shock as a wave of memories surged like an ocean and engulfed him in grief. His handsome face had a big scar by the neck. He bent down and tears ran down freely in his cheek.
One of the risks of this job is the reason he couldn’t make it back home to the embrace of his family. But how could he have known? How could we? Only a month ago, they were part of the peace troop sent to quell the incessant crises that brewed in that city.
And here he was, the mangled body of his colleague lay motionless inside the casket. He was stone dead, mutilated by the bomb that exploded in the city on that fateful Sunday.
“Adieu to a fine soldier, he said”.
He lowered a wreath beside the casket, gave the body a military salute, turned and marched away consumed by a deep sorrow.
In response to The Daily Prompt – Uniform.
Peace and Love!
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