He stood tall, giving orders to the men, women, 3000 or more, as he stamped his feet and the noise could shake the weak.
Yet face to face with the Commander in Chief, he could no longer hide the mischievous, tactical, game.
As his eyes slowly looked to his knees and he fumbled with his fingers above and below.
Silence, alarmed and weak.
The deed was done, the message received and now the effects of the blood-red glass rotten drops would never wash away the poisoned evil deed inside, given by a traitor and treacherous wicked-hearted soul of desire, greed and power.
There he sat, hypnotised, deafened, mindless and heartless to the pains of war.
To be continued….
By Natasha
Photo Book @hansfallada
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