A/N: In honor of Veterans everywhere. I wish to say Thank You!
It was peaceful here. Quiet. The wind blew softly through the trees, rustling the autumn leaves. He wasn't the only one here today. That was to be expected. He glanced around, noticing the actions of the people around him.
All were quiet, only speaking in soft whispers when absolutely necessary. Many were civilians. Many were in uniform. Few in uniform were able to stem the flow of tears as they visited the graves of comrades lost in combat. Many of the civilians wore black and more than one woman was alone with children in tow.
Part of this was his fault. He'd contributed to the deaths of those he fought against. Should he seek forgiveness from the families and friends of these fallen warriors? There was no telling which ones he was personally responsible for.
When he'd been younger, he knew what he was doing was right. He knew what he was fighting for. As he got older, he wondered, "Did I really do what was right? Should I have made different choices? Could I have stopped the war sooner and saved some of these men?"
But the thought that plagued him the most was: "Was it worth it?"
Was it worth the nightmares and flashbacks? Was it worth the bloody memories? Was it worth the disfiguring injuries, the scars, the amputated limbs? Was it worth the rows and rows of white marble headstones? Was it worth making widows of their wives and orphans of their children?
Truly, they had only been following the orders of tyrants. These men had not really been his enemies. Their leaders had been. These nameless soldiers, like him, had chosen a side. With each side came a path that they were then destined to follow.
He thought about his reasons for fighting. He didn't want tyranny to control his home. He didn't want a leader to determine how his future children would be allowed to be raised. He didn't want to be forced to hate someone simply because of the circumstances of their birth.
He wanted to worship whatever deity he believed in without fear of being punished for it. He wanted to be able to choose his workplace and his occupation. He wanted to be free to own a house or land if he chose. He didn't want anyone telling him how he had to live. He wanted reasonable laws so that his family could feel safe, not bullied.
Yes, he had had good reasons for fighting. Did it mean that he didn't value the lives he took? No. It saddened him to think that those lives had to be taken at all. But they had made their choice. Really, there was always the chance that he'd chosen the wrong side. And at times, like when he was crawling on his belly through the mud not daring to lift his head for fear of it being blown off, he had wondered if he had chosen wisely.
His side had been victorious. They had returned peace to the people. They were free to live their lives without fear.
But still he wondered, "Was it worth it?"
"Daddy!"
The call of his little girl brought him out of his reverie. He turned to smile at the little girl, her pigtails bouncing as she ran with all her might up the hill to get to him before her little brother, who was being helped to walk by his loving wife.
Yes.
It had all been worth it.
He bent down and lifted his beautiful little girl. He smiled as his wife and son joined them atop the hill overlooking the cemetery.
"Thank you," he whispered to the fallen before leading his family to the car.
The sun shone down on a cool, crisp autumn day. Silence filled the air. A silence of respect. And as he took his family home, he was proud to have served his country with honor.
A/N: I know I didn't specify which character this is. I did that because I felt that each might have these same feelings. You can decide which character it represents to you.
My family has a strong history of American military service (serving in the Militia, Marines, Air Force, Army and Navy) and without those brave men and women the world I live in today would be very different. So again, I say Thank You.