My shadows of hope

I've walked down this path before Fought on these very sands. Where the mothers of ash still cradle their silent children. All the world watches and judges drops bombs and closes bridges. But what of the innocents? What of them? They are not 'our' innocents, they say. not 'our' children not raised with 'our' values of love and compassion. They don't worship 'our' gods the heathens. Let them drown in the Mediterranean. What of them! They are their father's children, they say. Brought up on poison taught to hate in schools and at home. They are here to kill us all. Yes! Even the 3 year old who is dying of starvation and thirst. Even the 12 year old girl being sold into slavery for a pittance by a father with no other thought but to feed his other children. At least for a day. And when the young, brought up in an atmosphere of hate and deprivation and exploitation and segregation and discrimination take up weapo...

“I do not possess much patience for idiots, but I must profess my surfeit of idiots for patients.” - Dr. Mortimous ‘Vici’ Bach Chapter 1 The howl of the shells added an unholy amount of din to the already unbearable level of chaos inside the medical tent. Pvt. Herbert Hooley sat, propped against the tent pole, nearly at the center of the maelstrom that seemed to have consumed the Medical Military outpost. And, having lost both his legs to a landmine not 6 hours ago, it would have been understandable if he had wholeheartedly joined in the panic that seemed poised to consume one and all. However, one of the patients currently caged in this madhouse had let him into a little secret when he had almost given into the rising tide of desperation that engulfed him when he first saw the mangled state of affairs his legs had become. “Watch him”, the veteran had said. “When the blackness starts to take over, watch him.” Him, being a surgeon in the tent. A stately gentleman of obvious aristocrat...