Homecoming
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The colossal diesel locomotive screeched to a halt on the iron rails in the gloomy train station. The ponies inside scrambled for their luggage with a cacophony of grunts and thunks and yawns as tired bodies reached for hard bags, yanking them from overhead and under seats. At a window sat a zebra in a full Afghneighnka and a 6B3 armored vest full of magazines and kit. A red telnyashka showed through the unbuttoned section of the uniform jacket on his chest, barely peeking over the top of his armor. He sat there, motionless, his face in his hands. He waited for the car to empty before he stood up and grabbed the accouterments laying at his feet. He shuffled to the end of the train car and sighed heavily as he turned to the exit. Poised to disembark, he paused for a few seconds to utter a quiet prayer and thanks. Farn Baumrinde stepped off the train, a heavy load on his back and a rifle in his hand.
In the lobby of the station stood a tall, slender zebra mare with two foals. Her swarthy features were taut and drawn as she held their hands tightly. The foal on her right, a colt held up a handmade sign done in marker which read “Daddy”. On her left stood a filly, whose sandal-clad feet tapped rapidly on the beige linoleum of the station, the sound surprisingly audible in a vast lobby occupied now only by them and a wayward folk draining through as quickly as possible, eager to get home. Today was a big day in more ways this one.
Farn looked up through the gaps in the awnings covering the platforms. An amber sun shone through them. Few others were still around besides employees, who all looked anxious to leave, too. Though bright, it gave him no warmth, despite the singing of birds and the buzzing of bees. His tired eyes adjusted for the relative dimness of the station as he lifted up his AK-74 by the two-point sling and hung it from the shoulder of his bronezhilet, the weapon’s muzzle facing ahead of him and downwards, as if it too were weary. He slogged across the dirty-grey concrete with long strides like those of the final miles of a forced march. Farn fought fatigue fiercely. He sang under his breath, “V rukakh avtomat, potomu cho ya soldat. Ya vernus’ domoj, potomu chto ya geroj.” He held his heavy head high. Just a few meters away from the dusty platform stood a set of double doors – his finish line. He just had to get over there and through them. It mattered not if there was a crowd or nothing but the aging, musty train station with its yellowing, schwarzweiss checkerboard pattern linoleum, high ceilings, and fluorescent lights.
The filly looked up at the mare and asked, “Mamulya, when’s daddy getting back?”
The mare’s viridian eyes me with the filly’s. She answered, “Soon, Liesel.” The filly didn’t notice the subtle waver in her mother’s voice. “Would you like me to hold your sign for you, Serj?”
The colt shook his head, “No, I made this for Daddy to see me holding when he gets here.”
“As you wish,” soothed his mother, smiling a little at her son’s determination. A knot was forming in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps he wasn’t coming home after all? He had been not one of the crowd to have just come through the double doors, and they had been passengers from the last train of the day. He hadn’t contacted them. He had been in the thick of things. The rising worry within her sent theories chasing each other through her brain. Had he missed the train? Had there been a delay? Was there an attack? Had he been captured by the enemy? Had he abandoned them? Was he hurt? Was he dead?
Farn stood at the double doors. Here he was. He planted his foot and kicked at the center of the double doors.
The trio saw the doors swing open and a stallion clad in khaki step in, carrying a big pack on his back and something slender suspended on his right shoulder. He looked right at them and raised his left hand, waving, calling out, “Nu, cho!”
The mare stared, her children prying their hands free as they too looked at the approaching stallion. The mare stood frozen fast for just a few seconds before the biggest smile exploded across her face. “Farn!” She cried, running right at him, arms wide open. Seryoga and Liesel followed as fast as their short legs would carry them. Farn smiled, dropping his pack to the floor and running at her.
“Zelmenya!” They embraced, their momentum locking them together and spinning them around as they clung tightly too each other. They kissed deeply, the foals looking away. “Ya nazad – I’m back. Finally, I’m back!”
“I love you, Farn,” Zelmenya wept from joy, not noticing the silent few tears and trembles of her husband. She now saw him up close. “You look like hell.” His eyes widened for just a moment.
“It’s nothing. I love you, Zelmenya.” They clung together and kissed passionately, rocking in each other’s arms, letting their hands and lips and tongues remember the taste of each other. They broke apart for air and Farn look down to see his two foals, the colt holding up a handmade sign with “Daddy” written in bright colors in marker, crayon, color pencil, and ink pen.
Liesel flung her arms around his waist and he patted her on the head. When she let go, Farn beamed, “Davajte.” The kids leapt into his open arms as they hugged tightly, being wrapped in the warm embrace of Zelmenya. He squeezed them.
“Daddy, too tight,” squeaked the colt.
“Sorry, Seryoga.” A tear rolled down the stallion’s nose. “I’m just so glad to be back.”
“Us too, Daddy,” replied Seryoga. “We’re a family again.”
Liesel added, “Don’t forget about me.”
“Or me,” said Zelmenya.
“Of course not. Let’s go home and celebrate this all being over.”
Zelmenya said, “You said it, Farn, Celestia is giving a special speech at the parade announcement today.”
Farn blinked. “Can’t wait to read all about it, assuming we don’t catch it in the car.”
His wife laughed, “There’s time. Besides, they’re going to broadcast it live.” His ears pricked up.
“You got a television?”
“Maybe…”
“Du Schlampe,” teased Farn, pecking his wife on the cheek and nuzzling against her. His wife headbutted him. “What’s the speech about, anyway?”
She hesitated before answering him, “It’s the Day of Remembrance, remember, Sotul?”
“Yeah, I do, unfortunately, devcha,”
She sighed and said to them all, “Come on, let’s go. Plecati.” They were soon out of the station and piling into the car. The kids got into the back, while Zelmenya and Farn stood at the driver’s door.
“You guys have already done so much for me just by coming here. Let me drive you home; you must’ve gotten up pretty early and tired to get here for me.”
“It’s fine. You normally drive, but I’m not letting you, not today. You just got back; it’s your time to just relax after all the hard work you’ve been doing.”
Farn’s smile faltered. “I can do it.”
“You look like you got mugged by a manticore, and you haven’t slept in days.”
Farn tensed. “You think I’m too weak, Zelmenya? I’m strong, strong enough to keep going – survive, even when my comrades are dying all around me. I’m used to being awake for days on end; let me drive.”
Zelmenya looked into his eyes and drew near, holding a soft palm to his cheek. She felt something unfamiliar, hard. “Is this scar new?” He grunted and nodded, stiffening. She reached her other hand down and found his hand. It was nearly balled up, but his forearm was clenched tightly, trembling. Zelmenya let out a quiet gasp, gently sliding her arms around Farn and soothing him with her soft, honeyed tongue. Gradually, she felt the tension defuse and she let him drive as she got in the passenger seat. As the car started up, she whispered, “Biet soțul meu,” under the cover of the engine turning over. She leaned her head against his shoulder. He nuzzled her again. Just before he pulled out of the parking space, she could have sworn that she heard him whisper “I’m sorry.”
The atmosphere in the car was happy and triumphant. The kids did not catch onto the concerns of their parents. They instead focused on asking their father as many things as possible. “Daddy, how was Equestria?”
“Cold like an icebox.”
“Where were you?”
“Up north. I was in the Crystal Empire for a bit near the end; that was nice.”
“Did you see Princess Cadence?”
“No, but I did help secure the castle…” His hand reflexively tightened on the wheel.
“Did you see any action?”
“What d--” Farn cut himself off before he could lash out. Zelmenya was giving him a concerned look. “Stupid driver,” he huffed, trying to pass it off as something else. He wasn’t entirely sure Liesel and Seryoga were fooled. “Yeah, I did.”
“Did you get the bad guys, Daddy?”
Farn sighed, “Konyechno.”
“Did you bring stuff home?”
“You betcha…” He shoulders sagged.
“Are you going to watch Celestia’s speech, Farn?”
“Da, Zelmenya.” Conversations like this continued for the rest of the drive home.
Once at home, Farn Baumrinde ran his bag and avtomat up to his bedroom and took off his clothes, saving just his boots, his combat trousers, and his sleeveless red-striped telnyashka. He ran back downstairs and found himself confronted by his wife with a raised eyebrow. “What’s with the Kalashnikov?”
“Cho?” Zelmenya pointed at a spot by his right hand. He reached back and felt something hard, his eyes growing wide when he realized that it was the stock of his AK-74. Farn shuffled and chuckled, “Guess I forgot to put it up. Silly mistake; I’ve taken this thing everywhere with me since I left. I’m just so happy to be back that I… just haven’t been…”
A shout from the other room interrupted them. “Mommy, Daddy, it’s starting!”
“Ankommender, Liesel,” shot Farn, giving his wife a tender hug as his smile broke. The couple wordlessly went into the other room. There was a large couch along one wall and a big, bulky television on a table against the wall opposite. Zelmenya sat down first and Farn seated himself in her lap, leaning back against her warm body, her arms drawn protectively around his body and her chin resting on his muscular shoulder. She felt him struggling inside despite his outer calmness. Seryoga sat on their left and Liesel sat on their right.
It was a gorgeous day in Canterlot, and the colors all came through on the television. Farn paid no attention to pageantry, however, he only cared for the words which Celestia would speak. He waited with tension permeating him. The war was said to be over. It had been a short war, but he wanted proof from somepony in charge that it really was over.
The street chosen in Canterlot was packed with spectators, and many peered from windows and camped on rooftops for the parade and their leader. Three princesses were located on a raised platform in the path of the parade. All three were beautiful – Princess Luna, Princess Cadence, and Princess Twilight Sparkle. Everyone recognized them immediately, even the Zebras. All eyes were on the princesses. Twilight seemed to shift a little bit and look around anxiously. Everything fell magically silent when Princess Celestia appeared, taking her place with the other royals of Equestria.
The princess was the most beautiful mare Farn had ever seen in his life. She seemed to come from a race not of their world and mortal flaws. Her pale, radiant, milky white skin literally shone with light, lending an ethereal beauty to her shapely, attractive body complemented with long, slender legs leading up to generous hips betrayed by their flare in the regalia’s narrow skirt and framed by a tilted sash of gold which hung seductively around her waist, sapphires, and rubies. Her body had an alluring hourglass shape and magnificent, flawless breasts partially revealed in her low neckline and adorned with a bejeweled gold necklace. Her delicate arms tapered down to fine hands and wrists adorned with a few simple bracelets and gold bands. The most amazing part of the princess’s beauty, however, was in her face. Her face was incomparably beautiful. Her remarkable eyes were simultaneously youthful and older, kindly and stern, unknowable and seductive, innocent and wise, happy and sad. And her long, multicolored mane seemed to defy physics, perpetually swaying as if caressed by an eternal zephyr.
After a few more formalities, Princess Luna commanded with her musical voice, “Let the parade begin. Brave heroes, march.” From around the corner came Royal Guards grouped into squares six across and six deep. The first group of guards was clad in their antiquated dress uniforms and all the rest were following in their duty armor. Alternating ranks of white and charcoal paraded down in perfect lockstep. The orchestrated thunder of marching boots resonated in Farn’s soul as he remembered the magic and rhythm.
As the marchers reached the princesses, Celestia stepped forward. This was it! Farn and Zelmenya tensed up. Liesel and Seryoga were completely spellbound. Farn’s hands clenched tightly around the forend of his AK-74.
She began gravely, “Thank you all for coming to this Remembrance Day Parade. Thank you, every one of you who helped to make this parade possible. Thank you, each and every one of you, my brave little ponies in the Royal Guard and the Equestrian Military.”
Princess Celestia continued, “We are gathered here today, Earth Pony, Pegasus, Unicorn, Alicorn, and others, on this day of remembrance. We are here to remember those who go us to where we are today. We are here to remember those who gave everything for us. All gave some. Some gave all. Recent events remind us of this all too well.” Farn was confident that the princess’s eyes were brimming with moisture. The camera was aimed directly at her face and the princess spoke as if to personally address every single viewer. “The recent chaos in the North was a tragedy with many lives lost. In a single battle, over eight-hundred thousand rounds of ammunition were fired by our forces alone, many vehicles destroyed, and half a town leveled. All the bullets had to be resupplied, vehicles replaced, and buildings rebuilt. The expense was enormous, but we reclaimed the town from the Wolf invaders. In just a few years, it may even look like nothing ever even happened. However, that is not true. Nothing could be a bigger, more vile, worse lie. We lost two hundred brave Equestrian soldiers that day. You can replace guns, you can replace tanks, you can rebuild a million houses, but you can’t replace one pony; they are gone forever to the Well of Souls, and they can never come back, though we wait and they rest a billion years. Two hundred brave, young, strong ponies perished that day. Two hundred unique individuals with bright futures and full lives ahead of them, are gone forever. They all had their reasons to fight. Why? Why did they die?”
Farn felt his eyes fill with tears. Celestia paused, looking slowly around the entire parade. She said, “They fought for Equesrtia. They fought to protect our land, our people, our culture, our way of life. They fought to protect others. They did it to protect their friends and families. They went so that their children might have grown up in safety and peace. They calculated the costs, knew the risks, and understood the sacrifice, and yet they still chose to go. They died for Equestria. They died to protect peace and harmony, for your freedom and very way of life, they gave everything. When they signed their names, they pledged to defend their motherland at any price, up to and including their lives. When the war came, these brave soldiers answered the call of duty, knowing full well that they might have to make the ultimate sacrifice. Each and every one of them made great self-sacrifices for Equestria. They gave their lives so that others may live. They are all our heroes. Many of them returned unharmed, but so many others did not, cut down in their prime, or marked for life. They may be missing limbs, or blind, or maimed, or disfigured. Many who survived will bear the invisible scars for the rest of their lives, even if they escaped the shellfire untouched. They came back, wounded in the soul. In their minds, the war will never end. They will relive the things they saw and did every day in their memories and every night in their nightmares. They will always hear the sounds of guns, screaming, bullets flying all around them, the screams of the wounded and dying, doomed ponies begging for help that never came. They will always remember the dark and bloody battlefields, see the death and destruction, watch their friends die in agony. They all knew the risk, but they still chose to go. Why do we choose to remember and honor them?”
Farn could not hold himself back anymore. He covered his face and began sobbing. Zelmenya hugged him, soothing, “It’s okay, ne plach, don’t cry.”
“I can’t stop!”
Celestia’s speech carried on with hardly a dry eye anywhere. “We remember them, because it is the only thing we can do to honor them, because their sacrifice was not in vain. Thanks to them, Equestria is once again safe and at peace. It is because of them that Equestria exists and we can have this Remembrance Day, this little tribute to ponies lost before their time. Peace is wonderful, but it comes at a high price. In a perfect world, not one of you would ever have to make the choice to lay down your life, or be caught in the action of kill or be killed. But this is not a perfect world, try as we might. These are sad truths and we must never forget them. Should we, therefore, lose ourselves to grief? No, we must remain strong, just like them. They gave their lives for Equestria to be free, happy, and at peace; we must live as best as we can, create the Equestria they gave their lives for, make a world where we would need no more soldiers. For us, the war is over. We can go home. I request that, please, all guards, soldiers, warriors, current and former, Equestrian or not, stand and salute to these heroic souls.”
Seryoga whispered into Farn’s ear, “Dad, that’s you.”
Zelmenya gave Farn a push. “Davaj.” His tears drying, mercenary got to his feet and held up his hand in a salute different from the Equestrian one, but a salute nevertheless.
The four princesses quietly let tears slide down their faces. Princess Celestia wiped her tears away with one hand and steadied herself. Steadily, without stuttering or choking, she said, “You all have done so much and come so far for what you believe in and your loved ones. Your courage and devotion are an inspiration to us all and a shining example of all that is to be admired. You bear your burdens with unwavering strength. For some of you, the fight is over. For some of you, the fight carries on. For some of you, the fight has yet to begin. For the fallen, their fight ended, but they may never come home. The courage and fortitude they displayed, even in the face of impossible odds, even in the face of death, is beyond measure. They chose to go into the black heart of the storm, knowing that they may never again come home. They were guided by an unshakable conviction that what they were doing was right and worth the risk. They died before they could live to see their dream become reality, as we have. They never knew that the war would end with Equestria victorious. They only knew what had to be done and the sacrifice they needed to make. None of them wanted to die, but they had the strength to give everything in one last sacrifice for everything they held dear. They had their entire lives ahead of them, and yet they still made the ultimate sacrifice willingly. It was not bravery that gave them the courage to do this. The opposite of fear is not courage. The opposite of fear is love, love for your friends, love for your country, love for your comrades, love so strong as to be unshakable even in the worst possible conditions, love strong enough to into the eyes of death, love strong enough to accept death to protect others from harm. My ponies, their love still lives, from the very first Equestrian fallen at the dawn of our history, to Orchid Levant, the last soldier to die in this war. So long as we remember their love and do not dishonor their memory, they will never truly leave us. Their sacrifice in death ensured our survival as a nation, and so long as one pony lives who remembers the fallen, their sacrifice will never have been in vain. Thank you so very much.” And with that, Celestia ended her speech and let the parade carry on. The television continued to show the parade although nopony paid it any attention. Farn finally dropped his salute.
Liesel asked, “Daddy,Are you okay?”
“Da.”
Zelmenya inquired, “How are you feeling.”
“Better but blue.”
Seryoga asked, “What did you think of Celestia’s speech, Daddy? Rasskazhi, otets.”
He sat up and wiped away the tears. “Let me tell you all what that meant to me. I’ve been to war, and I say that Celestia’s right about most things, the important things. You might understand some of this now, you might not understand this properly until you get older, but you’ll never truly understand it until you’ve been there yourself. Talking from my personal experience, war is hell. I won’t lie and tell you that war is pretty, clean, nice, or anything like that. There is glory in war, but nopony sane goes to war looking for glory. We used to say that some ponies dream of being heroes, and other relive it in their nightmares. The truth is that war is what happens when things take priority over ponies. You might wish war never happens, but it has, it does, and it will. It isn’t inherently good or bad, it’s just ugly. There was never a good war, but there have been periods of peace so unbearable as to make war a necessity. As a warrior, I know this better than most. I count on warfare and conflict for employment, and I’m okay with that. I’m good at what I do and I’m glad to do it; someone has to, and better me than some colt who could do much more good with something peaceful. The truth is that war is just a highly destructive method for solving problems and ending disagreements. It’s true that nations are built on the tombs of dead soldiers, mostly because they’re inspirational mute heroes, and you can’t really carve out a territory without cracking at least a few skulls.”
Farn paused to catch his breath. “Now, ponies go to war for all sorts of reasons. Celestia would like to make you think that they were all true patriots. The truth is that many of them are just looking to make ends meet, or get the benefits, or find some challenging adventure. There are many patriots, and they generally believe in their cause, but politics and patriotism don’t usually drive ponies to fight, or at least enlist during peacetime; these guys tend to show up early on in wars. Remember that the enemy is just as much of an intelligent being as you are; they believe their cause is just as right and they are just as determined as you to win and make it home. You can’t really speak for the dead.” He clenched a fist. “All that talk about courage and sacrifice is bogus. When you’re in a battle, if you’re not firing, you’re scared.”
“Even heroes?”
“Ja, even heroes get scared, Serj. I don’t know if I’m a hero. Really, I don’t care. If I wasn’t scared, it wasn’t because of something like love or courage – it was because I had better things to do than be scared. Now, I love all my comrades, even the ones I don’t, and I fought like mad for ‘em, but what really got stuff done was knowing that I had to get it done no matter what. I love you guys even more.” Farn looked around at his family, a smile spreading beneath his red, puffy eyes. “I’ve fought for other reasons, deti, but this time, it was all for you guys. I didn’t want to die; I couldn’t die, because I had to survive to raise you and be with your mother. Most guys who die don’t even see it coming, and unless it’s something quick like a sniper attack, it’s not a god way to go…” His eyes dilated. The stallion tensed up, looking like he was staring an invisible dragon in the eye. Then, he shook his head and took delibately, labored, deep breaths. He exhaled, “Ladno ladno, I got this.”
Farn continued, “The last thing Celestia said that I’ll agree with is that you never truly get over a war. I’ve never gotten my friends back…” He mostly looked at Zelmenya’s beloved face as he said, “You’ve seen what I can get like, especially on bad days. It’s not because I’m mad at you or hate you or anything; it’s because I’m one of those guys who took a bullet in the soul and has to live with what he’s seen and done. I try, but I’m not perfect. There are days I really question the merits of having survived then versus what I must endure now. There were times when I didn’t think I was going to make it, and I accepted death, but I never gave up.” Zelmenya held both his hands and felt Farn intertwine his fingers with hers, accepting her touch.
“Farn, why did you never give up?”
A true smile spread over her husband’s face as he answered, “Nothing terrified me more than the thought of not getting to see you guys again. I couldn’t die, not with you lot waiting for me, counting on me. If I’d been fatally injured, I wouldn’t have had much choice, but since I wasn’t, I resolved to do everything possible to survive and come back home.”
“And what about those times when you feel like giving up?”
“I endure for you. I am also just too stubborn to give up,” he laughed. “It’s not going to be easy, but if you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”
At this time, their foals cut back in, “What’ya mean, Daddy, of course we want you with us.” They hugged Farn fiercely.
Grinning, Farn replied, “I love you guys. Thank you so much for everything. It’s great to be back.”
Zelmenya said, “It’s great to have you back. We’ll take this one day at a time.” She kissed him. “We have all the time in the world today and tonight,” she whispered.
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/END
Author's Note
Dedicated to all of those at war, current and former, future and fallen. Written for Memorial Day 2014. Thank you to all the troops for all the work they do to protect their homes and loved ones. Thank you so much for your sacrifice and your service. Three toasts for the fallen, never to be forgotten.
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