The first half-year of the War of Wars has passed. It was now writing the beginning of the year 1915, but winter has proven to be the worst period for soldiers at this time of fighting.

It has become the worst season of the year because of these things: lack of supplies and occasional frostbite.

What to say. It was hard for both warring parties.

But for Chris it was a beautiful love season. Yes, he saw a slaughterhouse every day on the battlefield, but when he was with her, this bloodiest period turned into the most romantic period.

Winter was over for some time now, and it was March 1915.

There have been several political changes during the war in Europe.The Kingdom of Spain was in disagreement with the Ottoman Empire, due to a mistake in diplomacy. And what was it about? Religion! And the United Kingdom mixed it up with the fact that it does not want a conflict with a country close to the Middle East during the war. The Spanish people remembered part of history when the entire Pyrenean Peninsula was under the rule of the Arabs and their religion of Islam. Now that it was the European state where the main religion was Christianity, and the main god of Islam, Allah was perceived as a threat to their civilized state. Because of the violent nature and sexism of women. No one knew if between these two countries with the monarchy would sooner or later be raging a religious war...

Chris as an ordinary soldier, absolutely didn't know which side is winning. And, frankly, he was beginning to be quite one. He wanted it to end. He had something to live for, but at the same time it threatened to end up on the battlefield at any moment.

The war only gave him one good thing.

He found love again, but not just anything. Love of his life.

Nature, at the beginning of spring, at least recovered from yet, perhaps never-ending, fighting.

Where there was no war, it was possible to hear the birds singing, seeing the flowers bloom, the squirrel crawling on the tree occasionally.

Ghost stories about the souls of the dead soldiers who did not find peace also began to arise.

Chris's battalion was currently on a mission. Eliminate another, this time an enemy battalion, which has been found to be responsible for losing stock.This time it rained heavily.They were all wet and cold. Thunder thundered with a thunderbolt. The soldiers were cold and the road was muddy than usual.

"Damn work. When this war is over, I'll open a store." one of the soldiers cursed

"Brace yourself. They will not cuddle with us. All but shoot them all. No prisoners." James ordered out loud in the rain

Chris didn't like James's approach. After he shot that frightened German boy, the other soldiers feared him. Chris hadn't been with him for a while. James was no longer the young teenager who became Chris's friend during his military training. Now it was a psychopath. He ordered the soldiers to kill. Even those enemy soldiers who gave up on them.

Chris loaded his rifle. He was a little scared. Lightning struck again. Drops of water dripped down the green helmet and the wet uniform glistened in the glare of lightning.

He looked out of the trench. The enemy battalion was already creeping. It was night and he could barely see them. They were armed and their uniforms said they were Italian soldiers.

It was very late in the evening and the missions of this type used to be very tiring. Soldiers would like to sleep, but they couldn't.

"Well. I'll split your tasks." James said and everyone looked at him "You Dean, you will surprise them from the backup. Throw them some grenade to stun them."

Dean shook his head and pulled out the first grenade he had in the backpack.

"Frenchman and our runaway orphan.You two will surround them and try to shoot them at any cost. Even if you were to die."

The young man James was talking about looked at the French soldier in shock, as if to tell him he didn't want to die.

Then he looked at the only handicaped soldier in the battalion. The young man who lost his leg during the fight.

"You're gonna watch the situation. If something went wrong, don't worry about throwing some grenades." then he looked at Chris and said "And the best eventually. Chris, if something goes wrong for the British reinforcements that are nearby. If it didn't work out, I specifically ask you to kill them in one. You have from the all of us the greatest murderous elan."

Chris was concerned when he realized what his former friend had said. James wants him to kill as if killing was fun. He uses his war madness.

This is not James, Chris thought.

So there was the first part of the attack. The enemy battalion stopped when they heard the impact of an unknown object on the ground. Their commander gestured with a right hand to stop in walking. He held a rifle in his left hand.

They looked back at the impact site. One young man wanted to get out of here when it was discovered that the thing was a unlocked grenade. It was supposed to explode, but it hasn't exploded yet.

"What the hell is that with that damn thing!?" Dean was mad when he discovered that the triggered grenade had not exploded. He watched the whole thing hidden from the distance. He knew he would try to find him.

The Italian battalion commander instructed his men to bring the enemy soldier who threw it. The young men scattered on the order of their boss.

A curious commander took a muddy grenade from a dirty puddle where the thing fell. At least he wanted to find out what production was. What enemies attacked the battalion with which particular nationality.

He read that grenade was American production. From the Falcon's Claws Weapons Factory in the American City of Falcon City.

He wanted to throw it away, but at that moment, the grenade exploded in his right hand. Light shone on him. Part of his hand flew away.There was a bloody part of his torn flesh out of his palm that stood out of bone.The explosion injured his face. Shards of explosive explosion dug into his face and eyes.The commander, with a bloody face, fell heavily injured to the ground, breathing deeply. He saw nothing. His eyes hurt and when he saw something, it was a piece of metal in his lens. He knew that it had been put into the vitreous as well.

The heavily injured commander heard the shots. The enemies now attacked his men. He heard the steps. Someone came to him. His face wounded Italian commander barely saw.

"This is what I think will free you from the pain, right?" the young man aimed a gun at him and shot him straight into the skull.

Chris was in a slaughterhouse. He held a rifle in his hand and hid behind his barbed wire with his friends. He looked back. James stood by the body of a dead Italian commander. Italian soldiers, or at least those who survived the massacre have stopped shooting back too.

Chris stopped shooting and the Frenchman by his side too.

The Italians seemed panicked. For the youngsters it was probably the first time they had been on the battlefield without a commander. Instead of running away and risking being shot by enemies during the run, they gave up.

Chris ran along with other men from the battalion behind James. The Italians surrendered. James just re-loaded his handgun and all but the Italians knew what was going on.

"James, you're not serious about the execution. Let them go." Chris said

James just turned and looked at him with a hateful look.

"Somehow you matured Chris." James said

Chris came to him and told him what he thought about him all along.

"I'm three years older than you. James, but seriously, what's wrong with you? Why is it all killing when it goes peacefully? What happened to you? You're no longer the friend I met during military training. You're just a madman. Madman."

"You're a madman too, you just didn't admit it." was James's reply

"What I did to you that you hate me?" Chris said with serious voice

James was silent. Chris left James for a moment and decided to disagree with killing the other men in his battalion. He hid the rifle in his backpack.

"I don't want to be your leader, I'm just an ordinary man like you, I just want to say something that should have been said in this battalion long ago: Why do we have to kill the captives? Why? To prove that we are more monsters than they are? They are also people like us, and they like you or me didn't ask for this war."

But that unfortunately had a negative effect.

"I agree! James is a tyrant, a tyrant. There used to be more in this battalion, but he killed one of us when he disagreed with him. This is a rebellion!" one man yelled

The soldier wanted to run for James and attack him with a knife, but Chris stopped him.

"We're supposed to be a team, we don't have to kill each other!" Chris called

"I agree with this young man here!" Frenchman has joined Chris's side

The battalion split into two sides at that moment. One was for the teamwork without killing and the other was for the rebellion.

Chris didn't remember what happened at the moment. He got into a brawl with Dean and everyone stopped fighting on the ground in the mud like kids when a shot suddenly occurred.At that moment, Chris had a broken nose from which blood flowed downstream. He was able to stop the bleeding, but the shot stopped him.

He ran to where the bullet hit his target. Italian soldiers who realized that they were no longer the center of attention grabbed their rifles and thought for a moment that they would be captives of their captors. When they saw that there was an emotional event, they changed their mind and disappeared into the distance in the night battlefield.

When Chris saw what had happened the heart almost jumped out of his chest. James was shot. Now he lay on the ground with a bloody wound on his chest and dying.

Blood flowed from his nose and mouth, and he could clearly see from the look in his eyes that he regretted how he had behaved in his last few months. The other soldiers were now trying to do amateur medical help. Obviously, they also realized that the battalion was a team of friends, who should always be with them even in the most difficult times.

Chris stared into the face of his dying former best friend. James coughed. He coughed up blood and looked into Chris's eyes.

"I didn't tell you why I hated you in the last few months Chris-" James coughed up blood again "You left me on the battlefield alone. Alone! You left your best friend!"

Chris was beginning to recall when it had happened. Tears began to flow from the eyes of the dying James. He continued his last words.

"You betrayed me! I then looked for you with the others and your things were scattered in the woods! Then you invented a false story about what happened to you! I don't know what happened there, but you left me. You have no idea what horrors I saw on the battlefield.."

At that moment, Chris remembered when it happened. The day he met love of his life- Aviva. When he realized what a cruel price he had met love of his life, tears poured into his eyes.

"James, please forgive me." Chris muttered, while he was started crying

"It's too late for Chris. I just want to tell you." James coughed again and he was still looking into Chris's eyes "Don't do this again.."

The young sixteen-year-old man fixed his gaze on the gray sky. At that moment he died. Chris was kneeling on the mud. Tears flowed from his eyes. It was hard to come to know to him, that he had met love of his live for the price of betraying his best friend, whom he knew in his army's service for the homeland.

Chris was crying. His hands covered his face and he sobbed. He stopped sobbing when he felt a tap on his shoulder. His hands stopped covering his face and stopped crying. He turned to see who tapped him on his shoulder. The French soldier patted him on his shoulder.

"Don't cry, it'll be okay young." Frenchman said.

"Why are you telling me this? I betrayed my best friend and it cost him life. I don't know how to get out of it. He's dead due to me! Moreover, he was younger than me!" fell from Chris

"Every person makes mistakes in his life, even those he cannot return even if he wants to go back. You'll get out of it. Every person has to accept it and compare with it." Frenchman replied

There were two tears, which flowed from Chris's eye, but the Frenchman responded like that.

"Don't cry anymore. It's time for your friend to bury him, at least with a decent funeral."

It was very early in the morning. The sun was slowly rising, and the sky was red to orange. Surrounding soldiers looked black from a distance. Like some puppets you can't see in the face.

There were a several barbed wires in the place where the soldiers stood at the moment, but mainly here there were a lot of wooden crosses.

Chris was holding a shovel dirty from the mud in his hand. Tears flowed from his eyes, he was sad. He heard amateur Chris Christian chanting. The deceased was a Catholic.

"Lord, give this young man forgiveness from sins in purgatory. Give him peace and quiet in Heaven. In the name of the Son, Father and Holy Spirit, help this young man find peace on the other side. Let his soul rest in peace. Amen." a French soldier chanting an amateur Catholic last farewell.

He watched as the other two soldiers carried on the couch for the wounded dead body hidden under the blanket. They carefully laid the dead body in the dug pit.

"It's time to bury James." Dean said and he looked at Chris, holding a shovel at that moment

Tears were pouring down on from Chris's eyes as he dug up the body of his deceased friend, along with the other two men. Chris blamed himself for his death, even though the French soldier kept telling him that it was the fate that stood of his friend's death.

Chris personally tapped a freshly made wooden cross on his friend's grave.Then he stepped back. There were tears in his eyes all the time, but the other soldiers, as well as his friends, tried to calm him down.There was still dirt on the fresh grave, and a wooden cross on the back. It will take some time for the grass to grow on the grave.

Everyone looked at the grave for the moment of a deceased friend, a founding member of this battalion.

"We should go." one man said and the soldiers began to slowly move away. Only Chris came after them as the last.

He put helmet of his deceased friend and flower on his deceased friend's grave, calming him at the beginning of the war. Then he looked at his grave, which was shadowed by the shadow of a wooden cross.

"Forgive me James." he muttered

Then he turned, took his military gear, and followed his battalion.