Wednesday, January 27, 2010

A Cold Soldier

His duty assignment came early in the morning, another execution. how many had it been since he was assigned to the hell-hole called Palestine? Yes the Jews thought it was their promised land. If this was a promised land he would gladly serve in a cursed land. Had it been a hundred, two hundred, probably closer to five hundred times he had been ordered to sit and watch some miserable Jewish criminals die?He gathered his weapons and wondered how long it would take the poor wretches to die. He was hoping it wouldn't take very long as he had other things to do. far to many times he had to sit all day and night waiting for the condemned to give up. He muttered to himself that this was a cursed place. He wished he could be serving any place else. He was a trained roman soldier, he should be on the battle field fighting for Caesar and his beloved Rome. He would rather face any warrior than sit at Golgotha and execute Jews.

He life was one of following orders and these orders he would follow out to the letter. He was trained to never question an order even if it meant certain and painful death. The steel blade at his side obeyed orders swiftly. his steel paid no heed to the flesh it was commanded to strike down. His blade recognized no age, sex, no infirmity, and no mercy. Once the command was given his heart was turned off and his training and experience directed every motion and decision. His arms holding steel and shield moved in trained and experienced rhythm.

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