I was driving home form an extra-long day at work, the road out of Manehattan seemingly endless. The sun had yet to begin its plunge into the horizon, it was only five thirty-six after all. My neck and lower-back ached from sitting in the uncomfortable office-chair in front of my computer all day. The business jacket and white, long-sleeved shirt felt stuff and constricting. My horn glowed a deep green and I loosened my tie and unbuttoned my top button. “*sigh* What am I doing with my life?” I asked myself often enough. Day-in and day-out I did the same thing five days a week, it seemed like a vicious, monotonous cycle that repeated every week. I saw a small brown sign on the sign of the road: Manehattan National Cemetery. I’d been driving this road day in and day out for over ten years now, and never once noticed the sign. I glanced at the clock, “I’ve got a little time before Sunshine gets home, might as well”
I pulled off the highway, down the narrow back road into the tree line. It was about ten minutes down the road before I came to large parking lot. I parked in one of the many open spots, and got out of the car. I locked my car and placed the keys in the right breast pocket on the inside of my jacket. I approached the front gate, stopping short. The gate was a large opening with a half-circle arching over the top. The left side of the half-circle was a light blue with a bright-white crescent moon coming off of the ten o’clock position. The metal connected to a dark blue, almost black, wall with little white dots scattered about, almost like stars. The other half of the arch was a deep red with a bright orange sun coming out of the two o’clock position. This side connected to a wall that was a burnt orange color, with a rainbow running through the middle all the way down. On the dark side of the gate stood an Equestrian Royal Guardsman, clad in the traditional gold armor and blue plume on the helmet. He was unwavering, staring straight ahead into the distance. On the bright side of the wall stood a member of Luna’s Night Guard, clad in their purple and dark blue armor, with the strange eye on the breast plate. She stood there just as the other guard, unmoving. I was a little intimidated by their presence, I’d never had any close experiences with either section of royal security. I slowly walked through the gate, half-expecting to be stopped by the pair, but neither moved, only stared straight ahead. I walked right in.
Inside the cemetery was a large open field with small hills, except for one large hill in the center of the cemetery with a large oak tree on it. The view was quite breath taking. Neatly organized in rows and columns were small white pillars with either a sun or crescent moon on top. I walked slowly down one of the rows, giving a few of the pillars passing glances. Private Flower, First Lieutenant Cloud, Staff Sergeant Wood, none of these names really had much meaning to me. As I walked along the bright green, well-kept grass I saw a mare a few headstones down, sitting on a picnic blanket in front of one of the markers. I moved over a few rows, and moved down behind her. There was a foal in a carriage sound asleep beside here. The mare, however, just stared at the marker. It read:
Staff Sergeant Sky Star
Equestrian Royal Air Force
Killed in Combat August 28th, 20~~
The mare was crying, but then she wiped the tears away with her hoof (the purple fur around the hoof was matted down and wet) and smiled, but for only a moment before she went back to crying. She seemed conflicted about the marker. I continued down the rows, ignoring the scene, and turning my focus to the view beyond the graves.
After a few minutes of wondering about the cemetery I saw an elderly looking mare in the distance, sitting in a wheelchair with a blue and gray striped blanket covering her legs. In her hooves she held a bouquet of white flowers. She sat there staring at one of the bleached white markers. I approached the mare, “Umm, ma’am, are you alright?”
At first she didn’t say anything, but then she sniffled and came back to reality, with a tear running down her cheek. “Oh yes, young buck, I’m quite alright, just….reminiscing…” She said in a frail and shaky voice, looking down at her lap, “he always was the romantic type.”
“Who?” I asked a little confused.
“Oh, I apologize, forgive an old mare, my mind sometimes slips to days passed. I was talking about my husband, he died many years ago, and all I have to remember him by are my memories and this letter…” She said as the tears stopped, and smile appeared, and she held up a letter. I floated the letter in front of my face, reading it to myself”
My Love,
Things are going great on the Horseshoe Atoll! We invaded the island three days ago, and are now driving the last of the Ponese off the island. Sarge says we should be off the island ad back home in only a few short days! Then we’ll be able to walk that trail through the Everfree Forest that you like so much. I love you, and I’ll see you soon!
Corporal Sunny Fields,
4th Royal Marine Detachment
“Island Rockers”
December 16th, 19~~
The date at the end of the letter was smudged from the wear of the years. I felt a small sadness at the reading of the letter. “He was killed by an ambush the day after he sent this. All but three in his company were wiped out in a few minutes. They Navy just shelled and burned the island afterwards, leaving the black husk remaining.” She said, drifting into another memory of long ago. I gently placed the letter back on her lap, and left her to her thoughts.
I continued walking, now starting to think about what this place actually was. I looked around and saw a small crowd gathered around something in the distance. As I approached I noticed the graves in this area weren’t covered with the thick, lush grass as the rest of the cemetery, here the grass was either thin to where the ground could be seen, or there was one at all. I approached the crowd and looked in on the scene. In the middle of the crowd, on a metal frame above a hole was a casket, covered in the Equestrian flag. The crowd consisted of a few ponies in military-looking uniforms and the rest were dressed in black. And everyone was crying, even the ones in the military uniforms. Some ponies had heads buried in shoulders, trying to hide the tears. A pony in black robes was standing at the head-end of the casket, reading the testament of the pony.
“Ready. Aim. Fire!” *BANG* the rifles fired, and jumped. I looked over and saw three ponies with military rifles pointed into the air. ”Ready. Aim. Fire!” *BANG* “Ready. Aim. Fire!” *BANG* “Port. Arms.” The rifles were lowered to the ground. I backed away from the funeral, I didn’t know the buck and didn’t belong there.
I was in a fast trot to get back to the parking lot, but something stopped me. I looked up at the large hill, I needed to go up there before I left. My trot turned into a walk as I got to the bottom of the hill. As I reached the top, what I saw took my breath away. The cemetery stretched out into the distance, it was massive. Hundreds upon thousands of the same white markers spread out in the same neat rows. “All…All these ponies…”
“Died, yes.” Came a voice to my right. I jumped a little, my head snapped to the direction of the voice. Sitting there, looking into the horizon, was a large pony, an alicorn to be exact, he deep blue mane flowing in an ethereal wind like mist of stars. Her cutie mark was that of a crescent moon.
“Your majesty, what are you doing here!?” I exclaimed, as I dropped my face down as low as the ground would allow.
“Please, get up, come sit and talk.” I got up and sat a few feet away from her. “I often like to come here before my time to raise the moon and watch over the night comes. It gives me time to think, and reminds me that I am not the only one working at that time of night. So tell me, what do you think of this place?” She asked.
“It’s beautiful.” I said.
“Yes, it is. But I mean of IT. The reason this cemetery is even here.” She said, adding the extra emphasis on ‘it.’
“Of the death? I mean, everypony has to die eventually.” I said, sure that was what she meant.
“No, I mean the seemingly pointless death, the destruction of so many young lives, the ending of dreams?”
“It’s terrible, but necessary.” I said.
“Necessary, but for what?” She said, inquiring on my comment.
“Ummmm.” I’d never actually thought about it before, I was always just told it was necessary.
“Exactly. War, is a terrible thing. Ponies voluntarily sign a piece of paper entitling themselves to nothing but death. They put on the armor of our nation, and rush into battle at the commands of their superiors, against any foes, foes that threaten the very freedom and democracy that you and every other Equestrian possess. But why would they do this?” She asked, now looking at me intently. I could only shrug my shoulders. “Love.”
“Huh?” I was now thoroughly confused.
“Love. They sacrifice themselves for love. Love for their spouses and children, ponies like you whom they’ve never met a day in their lives, their nation. Did you see Ms. Purple Star as you came into the cemetery?” I shook my head. “Her husband, Sky Star, died in combat two years ago.” I thought back to the marker I read when I first came in, “She has nightmares about it every night, nightmares that not even I can alleviate. She dreams of the day he got the call, she was five months pregnant at the time. She dreams of him getting on the plane, smiling and waving, he was excited to go, it meant more money for his family, Purple Star wanted a new car. Six months later a knock came to her door. At the door stood a Stallion, in full dress uniform, with a wheel cover angled so she could not see the tears in his eyes. In his magic floated a pair of tan combat boots, a triangular-folded flag, and a letter. The news was devastating. She didn’t eat or sleep for days. Her life completely fell apart at that moment. She constantly thought about suicide, to end the pain, but never did because of the foal. She got fired from her job, she would collapse into fits of tears and whimpering at random times. Now she and her foal are barely scraping by on the money provided by the government. She spends most of her time wondering where the next meal will come from.” I sniffled, I was crying. Wait, I was crying? “Green fields, the elderly mare you met, is the husband of Sunny Fields. He was a soldier of a war long passed. Though it has been many decades, the pain is still fresh in her mind and in her heart. She thinks about him every day. Time has done good for the pain, so I am able to alleviate it through happy memories, but I am not bale to erase them, and the pain only returns in the morning.”
At this point I felt sick, sick with myself. I came here only for something to kill time or to see a view. I knew Equestria had wars, and that ponies died, but this many? I looked around, around at the thousands of markers placed in the sea of green. You could see other mourners scattered about.
“Most ponies don’t even know what’s going on. They get up every morning, drink their coffee, kiss their spouse, and leave for their job in their cars, then come back home. A monotonous cycle that they are sick of.” I felt like she was talking straight to me, and she probably was. “They don’t think about the ponies out there on the front lines, in the forward operating bases. While they are safe at home, these ponies, these soldiers, live in a state of pure hell. But they don’t give up, they don’t quit, they don’t give in. Day by day they are shot at, blown p, pushed to the point of mental and physical collapse. Then they wake up the next morning ad do it all over again, without a complaint. And for what, why would anypony in their right mind ever do this? For Love.”
At this point I was crying, I looked out in the field in front of us. There, standing among the markers, stood a stallion. He wore the tradition gold Royal Guard armor. In front of him, perpendicular to the ground, floated a trumpet. Then he floated the mouth piece up to his lips, and drew a deep breath. A long, slow note came out, followed by two shorter ones, and this repeated a few times. I felt the notes in my heart. They rang through my body and my soul. More tears streamed out as the song continued. I felt the years of toil, hardship and strife. The anger and hatred, the happiness and the regret. I could picture Purple Star opening the door to the sight of that uniformed stallion. The emotions welling up as she cried and cried until she couldn’t anymore. The hurt of losing one so close and not being able to take care of her child. Of having to scrape by on whatever meager pay she could come up with. The, I pictured Green Fields, moving on with her life, pushing on, the thought of her husband forever burned into her memories, his death forever haunting her. I could see it all, just through those twenty-four short notes. The song came to an end, but the tears didn’t.
I looked over at Luna, but she wasn’t there. I wiped away my tears, and took off in full gallop back to Green Fields.
She was still in the same spot I left here, staring at the marker, except tears were dripping off her cheek now. I didn’t say a word, I just hugged her as tight as I could. She threw her arms around me, the emotions being set free. No words were said, they weren’t needed, everything she wanted to say was said in that embrace. She finally let go, she was smiling. She turned her wheelchair and slowly started rolling out of the cemetery.
Next, I galloped to go find Purple Star. I saw the baby carriage, but she was nowhere to be found. As I approached I heard the sniveling. I found her curled up in a ball on the blanket, crying horribly. “Ma’am…” She continued crying, “Umm, Ma’am?” I said again, but she continued crying “Purple Star!” This broke her trance, she looked up at me with wet, blood-stained eyes.
“How-how do you know me?” She asked between sniffles.
“I’m very sorry about your husband. I would like to take you and your foal to dinner, completely on me.” I said with an honest smile.
Her eyes went wide in shock, tears started welling up once again, and she jumped at me, throwing her hooves around me. She squeezed me tight and just cried. “T-thank you, Thank you so much.” She said, sobbing. I led her out of the cemetery, but it felt like so much more than that. It felt like I was leading her out of her horrors and nightmares, like I broke the snare that was holding her. She sat in the passenger seat of my car, still crying, but she had a smile on her face.
