It was obvious that the defenders of this remote outpost had put up a fight, well at least for as long as their ammunition had lasted. The ramparts were covered in shell casings and empty ammo boxes. Their last minutes must have been terrible though, thought Moreau.
There was more than just blood by the embrasures on the fort’s walls. Several men had wet themselves and more than one had left the last bullet for themselves, yet failed to use it. For all their desperate courage though not one Legionnaire had survived.
Moreau walked across the parapet and looked down at the tragic scene. The outpost’s Captain, one of his Sergeants and five men had made a last stand around the flag pole, giving their lives for a flag that for most of them wasn’t even their own. The enemy had used a flamethrower to annihilate this gallant band, what cruelty and dishonour there was in the heart of man…
The rest of this story can be found in the fiction section.