April 13th, 1945
Today I went back to work at the munitions factory. Two days since my brother’s death in a charge against a stretch of “seemingly undefended” German trenches. I spent most of the day explaining what had happened to friends, both mine, and his. Their reactions ranged from outright woe, to shock, to “it happens to the best of us.” While that last response invoked a sharp feeling of hatred for the offenders, it didn’t take me long to realise that many more has lost their whole families in this war. For me to simply strike down anyone I deemed deserved it would be both selfish and idiotic of me. I am not the only victim of this war, and I will definitely not be the last.