No one spoke.
No one moved.
We simply stood there, watching that distant flag, knowing the man beneath it was gone.
Then, the commander spoke.
His voice was hoarse.
"Do you know why he was given special treatment?"
No one answered.
He exhaled shakily.
"It wasn't because he was the bravest… the strongest… or the smartest."
His hands trembled.
"But because he was none of those things… we survived today."
His voice wavered.
"It's because he was none of those things," the commander continued, his voice breaking. "That even if he died… no one would care."
Silence.
Then, barely above a whisper:
"I… I didn't want to die. So I sent him to his death."
His shoulders sagged.
"It was him… or us."
Maybe he was explaining it to us.
Or maybe… he was trying to justify it to himself.
No one spoke.
Because deep down, we all knew the truth.
We had all played a part in his death.
Even if we hadn't struck the killing blow, we had killed him that day.
And that guilt…
It will stay with us until the day we die.