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A cannon fired, and silence fell.

A cannon fired, and the world went quiet.

We stood still as the wind blew through us, and we bowed our heads. We were a long way from home and the journey was far from over.

Our journey, at least.

Heroes, they called them. Our brothers. Lying now in the soil of a friendly country. They were already making lists of their names, to be carved in stone to stand over the fields where they died.

I raised my bugle to my lips and sounded the Last Post.

© Kari Fay

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