All of us soldiers are the same, unique traits and personalities rendered irrelevant in the face of war. Every step, every turn, was freakishly accurate. Because that’s what we were trained to do. 

The sun breaks free, its rays casting light upon us, as if in a fairytale. The luminance glistens off the meadow as the wistful sky lures me in. I see a red string above us, a red string of hope.