The problem with war is that you don’t know when it’s going to end.
When Nate had signed up (read: been forced to, thanks to conscription), there had been no clear end in sight. Though, as much as the thought of there being no indefinite end causes him some discomfort, he’s happy enough to fight for his country – especially if it means he’s doing something to help in defending his people.
And okay, maybe living life in the middle of a war isn’t the most comfortable he’s ever been, and it’s difficult when you’re fighting against others (human beings, people he has to kill, but he tries to ignore that). War is never graceful, and that’s something else he knows.
Everyone around him quickly figured it out as well, and he almost mourns for the fact that they’re all so young and so lost already, including him, and what are they going to do when (if) this ever ends? How many of them will still have their lives after?
When he looks around, all he sees is the faces of the dead.
It’s enough to make him move around, leaving the camp they had set up but not far enough that he will be missed, or will not hear a call for him. If anything, he can just pretend he’s patrolling, if need be. Initiative, he’ll say, and still get in trouble for going against orders but at least something good will come from it.
It’s been a year, and he hasn’t been caught yet. Every time he leaves, he wanders around the same place, taking in the area of foreign land that surrounds him. Only during this time is he able to take the place in. All others, he’s fighting for his life and that of his home and everything that comes with it. That isn’t a prime time to kick back and take in the sights, he’s found.
The last guy that didn’t pay attention took a bullet to the head, right next to Nate, and he can still almost feel the blood that had landed on him as he fell back. Nate didn’t know his name at the time, but now he’s made sure that he knows the people he surrounds himself with. In memoriam and all that.
It’s been one of the worse days today, where they didn’t advance any further (which they haven’t for a while) and the higher ups are all pissed off due to their ‘lack of effort’. As they sat in their tents and grumble about it, the soldiers treat their wounded and lean back against the nearest post they can find, taking in the breaths they had lost during the fights. Nate felt useless, in the face of so many hurt and his lack of medical knowledge. He only knew the field stuff that would help him survive should he be injured. Not enough to help anyone here.
As he walks past gurneys with white sheets spread over them, he grimly wonders where all these men are coming from. Excited new soldiers arrive, disillusioned old ones die. It seems like a never ending cycle and he wonders when it’ll be his turn.
He stomps out of the camp and through the terrain, through a familiar path he had trodden through a thousand times before. It’s only when he enters a familiar landmark (weeds and bushes hiding an old gravestone, and isn’t that just hilarious? His escape is just as morbid as everything else) and he sees someone else there, invading the place he’s unofficially claimed as his own as though it's theirs and—
Oh. That’s the uniform he’s been shooting at for how long now.
It’s enough to make him put a hand to the pistol they had all been given upon arriving here, a ‘just in case’ kind of weapon which is nothing compared to the rifles and machine guns they have for real warfare. But it’ll help against one person, he’s sure.
Without pulling the damn thing out but instead keeping a hand on it, his voice is quiet when he asks, “Who the heck're you?”
