Eternal Soldier

The Alpine Front; 1916

It's cold, colder than what I'd ever imagined. We shouldn't be up here, it's dangerous as is, but to fight a war on the Alpine slopes... Did you feel that the ground shaking.?There's a rumbling sound, and it's not the enemies guns. It's getting louder, my comrades are running, but there's nowhere to hide. For once, it's not the shells coming down on us, but a force of nature. A violent force, too strong to fight. I looked up at the blanket of white coming straight for us. An avalanche. I barely had time to think before that blanket of white swallowed me and my comrades.

It's cold. I can't breathe. The snow burns me...

White Friday. 13 December 1916. On this day I died along with the men of my unit. Yet here I remain. Nobody found me under the snow. I was never laid to rest. The snow was my grave. And whilst those who made it out would someday die and the, andodies decay, I remain. The snow preserves me. Who knew I'd be immortal after such a fatal day. They came back and found some of us. Fritz, Otto, Erwin; they went home. But me; I remain on this slope. They could come back for me, for Adolf, for Hans, for Erik, for Johannas. But is it worth the risk? If they came back to dig us out of the ice and snow, they could upset the mountain once again. They could join us in a frozen eternity on the ceiling of the world.

I met some others up here. From Italy there's Dante, Alessandro and Marco and from Britain there's Blair, John and Les. They'll never go home either, they'll remain, bound to the mountain among the ice and snow. If we could talk, we'd probably tell of how stupid this war was. We were just boys seeking adventure; wanting to serve our countries. I was only 16 when I became immortal.

In Verdun, Flanders, Gallipoli, the Somme and so many other places we fell. And many of them have not gone home, but they too return to the earth. I sit and I watch. I saw the end of the war. I saw the treaties, I saw the lies our leaders told. I saw the Allies fail to enforce their treaties. I saw war begin and hundreds of thousands die, in battle and by murder. I saw a blast, so bright it could have blinded my once living self. I saw a new age, as two powers threaten war. I say aeroplanes with strange new engines and no propellers. I saw ships with runways on them. I saw aircraft that could launch into space. I've seen it all; more than any will ever see. Yet no one will hear my story.

And as I lie here, waiting... watching, I long to see one thing. Peace. I have seen it all, except for peace...

Lest we forget...

On 13 December 1916, avalanches rocked the Alpine Front, burying soldiers under layers of snow. Few could be recovered from their frozen tombs. The day became known as White Friday.

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