I walk through the ruined city, deep in contemplation. Nearby, my squad leader surveys the result of my work, nodding satisfactorily. I can’t but feel sick. What is the point to all this senseless killing? These civillians never did us any harm.

But we destroyed them anyway. Every single one of them died horribly. Maybe the government thinks this will send the rebels a message. Or maybe they are just feeding their own egos.

I cringe as I walk past a burnt automobile. I can’t but notice the remains of the poor souls who had been trapped inside. My fist clenches and my anger starts to boil over.

But I know being angry cannot change what I have done, and my fury is replaced by helplessness. Sighing in despair, I leave for the city outskirts. As I trudge toward our camp, the fires of condemnation burn in my soul, for I know I share equal responsibility for this slaughter. After all, was I not the one who lead the attack? I laugh bitterly, leaving behind the ashes of my day’s work.