[ WP ] Describe a massacre from the perspectives of one of the killers , a soldier .

I felt my stomach knot, my limbs were numbing and my heart had stopped beating. I was still unsure if the commanding officer actually had issued the order, and jumped a little when the thunderous boom of the sergeant ’ s voice came from a few feet behind him, shouting at the commanding officer. I recognized the puzzled and horrified facial expressions of my fellow soldiers and realized I must have had just the same expression showing on my own face. Wailing started to emerge when one of the villagers had translated the command to the rest of the inhabitants. « I said open fire on the villagers, is that understood? » The commanding officer shouted, repeating his command. A collective, but hesitant « Yes sir » could be heard across the town square and soldiers started to take aim.One platoon began herding people together, shooting those who didn ’ t comply and those who did. Gunfire was getting louder and more frequent. The sergeant who had been standing close to me had gone over to the commander and was shouting at him to stop this madness. The commander not seeming to care, unholstered his pistol and without flinching he cocked the gun and blew out the brains of the sergeant. The message was clear, do as he said or end up like the sergeant. I took my gun of my back and hoisted it so I could aim. In my hands I had a death-bringer, a life-releaver, an automatic delivery system of death and misery. I forced myself to become a machine, an insensitive war-machine who fulfilled the commanding officer ’ s perverted desire for violence. I walked over to the group of people now standing in a long line against the wall. I took aim and started firing. *Click, click, click*, the sound of the mechanics in the gun was the only thing I heard. A grey concrete I was painting red was the only thing I could see. Pain, sorrow, anger, sadness the only emotions I felt. I hated myself for not being brave enough to confront the Commander like the sergeant had, but I was a coward. The wall behind the victims, the so-called enemies who threatened the western world ’ s existence by existing, was now chipped and red. Screaming, crying and horrific noises weren ’ t coming from the inhabitants of the village, but from the soldiers pulling the triggers. I snapped out of my trance-like state when my gun stopped firing. No more ammo, and no more people. I sat down, let my tears blend with those of the villagers, cursing the Commander, the western society, and god himself. Not noticing i was on my back, the grey sky above blurred because of the tears in my eyes and I closed them. I laid there for a long time, sobbing, loathing, crying before i fell asleep.
