We Damned Fools.

The rancid water filling his boots made Stone sick. He went to the commander for his orders. “Corporal Stone, you’re being repositioned. Gather your belongings, you’re moving south.”

“When should I tell my men to report to the train sir?”

“Don’t son, they’re staying here. You’re being moved, alone. We need more sharpshooters outside of Dodge City, the enemy has pushed inland, using Horseshoe bay as a stomping ground. We need more reinforcements in those woods, if you could call them that anymore, and you’ve been selected.” Stone looked baffled. The commander pulled a book out from his pocket. “‘Got five today, possibly a sixth’, those are your words, eh?” Stone nodded. “Found this journal when your squad was moving your belongings when the storm hit, you’re good son, they need all the good they can get down there. Head to the train now.”

The shell riddled country side whizzed by in a blur. The train veered west, through a tunnel. On the other side he saw farms fly-by, the citizens of Equestria weren’t affected by the war here, they tended to the fields, plowed the earth. Stone looked upon the wheat, flowing gently in the wind, all he could see were shell craters, water filled, dead bodies upon the edges, trench raids gone wrong. When he blinked the fields of wheat returned, shimmering in the sunlight.

They encountered a mountain, heading to the grand city itself. Canterlot loomed on the horizon, he looked at the castle towers, so white and pure. It reminded him of a white building in Manehattan. The building had been immaculate in the beginning, standing proud amongst the grey and red brick buildings amongst it. One day the planes roared overhead, bombed it, crumbled to the ground. It fell just like everything else in that city, the buildings, the street signs, the men. The train pulled into the station. “Why are we stopping?”

“Got some politicians boarding, gonna drop them off in Ponyville and head onto Dodge.” The guard by the door said. The cart door opened, they entered. She made eye contact with him, he her. She turned her head, walked through the cart, into the back with her friends.

Stone stood and began to follow, two royal guards stood by the door, blocking his entrance. “Sorry sir, can’t allow you through here.” Stone backed off. “Hey, aren’t you Defiant Stone, sole survivor of the Manehattan Beach Bombings?” He nodded. “Me and you went through basic together, didn’t recognize you, you look different covered in all those scars and dirt. Go on through, I trust you’re no spy.”

The conversation in the rear compartment of the train as he opened the door. “Defiant Stone, speak of the devil.” Rainbow Dash said. He stood before them, the wide brimmed helmet in his hands, dented and scarred. His uniform was a dark brown, coated with mud and grime, stained with blood below the left breast, not his own. His boots were cut here and there, deeply in some places. His face was tired and leathery, a deep scar cut across his left cheek, a spackling of a few others remained here and there, one coming down above his right eye. His hair was rather shaggy, greasy and grimy, it was caked in mud. His dark brown eyes drooped as he looked at them, a sadness in them.

“Can we help you? Or are you just going to look at us with puppy dog eyes?” Twilight asked.

“I came to talk to Rarity if that be okay.”

All eyes went to her, she faced the rear of the cart. “And what about, may I ask?”

“About why you never wrote me back I suppose.” They all froze, slowly turning to look at him. He pulled his journal from his pocket. He scribbled his letter on it, he reached into his other pocket, pulling her letter from that pocket. He placed them upon the table, the book closed, but her letter stuck out as a bookmark.

He walked back into his compartment. They opened the journal.

Looks like a storm tonight, good, heat too damn much.

Hit during the rain last night, nearly killed by bomb. Killed a pilot, him or me I guess. Can still see his face.

They stormed the beach last night, wasn’t good. Manned the mg until they overran me, damn grifs. Dug in in some building, terrible noise those cannons are.

Promoted today, have a fireteam now, good guys, green as grass. Wish they could keep that, this wars getting to be too much.

Assaulted the enemy today, killed the Lt. in charge, almost got the sarge, saved him. Killed two, damn fools. I decided to write her back, figure she deserves something.

Sketch drew a picture of me, decided to send it to her as well, she might like it.

Troops moved west today, left a hundred of us behind to cover the retreat. Got three today, fine hunting now.

Found a good building to hide in, got nearly ten today! Fine hunting indeed.

Almost fragged today, got four trying to leave the trench, moving back to our lines tonight, can’t wait.

Found the sergeant from that assault, shell shocked, poor man. Can still hear the cannons when I fall asleep, infernal noise.

Went into the pit today, found a good spot to pick off grif from, got five, fine shooting.

Had to leave that hide today, grif found I was there, none to please, called in the cannons, nearly lost my limbs I reckon, my ears are still ringing, damn cannons.

Got five today, possibly a sixth. Nipped him, ran before I could confirm the shot. Good day, coming back tomorrow, then I’ll need a new spot.

In the hospital, damned war is too much. Laid in the rain until I was sick, felt good, first shower in a while, upsides. She hasn’t written back, figure she can’t be bothered, probably a fine thing, I’ll die in these trenches, then they’ll put some dirt on me, bury me on the spot. I saw the worms eating a boy in crater today, can’t stop seeing it.

Been having nightmares, some boys brought in another, grifs dropped some kind of gas on him, dreamt they got Candle, he was wheezing and gasping, couldn’t bear the thought, dreams keep getting more vivid. They’re shelling grif right now, I swear the noise gets worse each time, wearing me down.

They put down the journal, Rarity opened it to the page her letter marked, read the letter. A tear came to her eye, she never received the letter, lost on the way to her. They all began to cry, the journal to much, they never thought of it being that way.

She entered the train cart, he sat beside the window, looking out past the fields of grain, he didn’t focus on anything particular. She sat beside him, handing him the journal, she laid it on his lap, he placed his right hand upon it. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.” He nodded. “You must be upset.”

“No, I figured they intercepted the letter, couldn’t let it get into the wrong hands.” He looked at her. “I ain’t slept in three days, not since the fever. I suppose you read the journal, you can see why.” Her eyes were teary again. He opened his shirt. “I got my cutie mark, killing, a damned joke. I’ve been killing daily, an awful grief on me. I went looking for adventure, dreamed of medals and being a hero, now I dream of the worms in a young man's eyes, the maggots that swarm the corpses, no difference between us and them, just these damn uniforms.”

They sat in silence, the train rolled down the track, the horn sounded. “Where are you headed? Are you done?”

“No, Dodge, reinforcing the ranks there. This wars only just begun, not going to be finished soon.” The train rolled to a stop. “Your stop, and don’t worry about me, I can make it through this.” He gave a sad smile. As she left the train she turned, he once more looked out the window, looking out beyond the fields, no focus, just starring.