Since this one fits the season so well and has just come out of the spell-checker, I cannot resist reposting:

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Sleep will not come easily to the powerful man as he retires to his bed. Alone, he left the Christmas-dinner held in his holiday retreat in the mountains. He feels that today’s vigorous walking in the winter cold, to and from the pavilion that is situated in one of the far corners of the large estate, has taken its toll.

Perhaps it is the food and the brandy, perhaps it is the constant talking that has worn him down, just a little bit. Perhaps it is because for the first time in many years, he has just recently experienced his first major defeat. From crushing his country’s enemies in a series of lightening quick advancements, he has lost momentum and thus his first major battle.

Despite his girlfriend also being a staying guest at the vast holiday retreat, and a most favored one too, he has to spend his nights alone. With a deep sigh he tries to relax and let his body find rest. A middle-aged man, he tries to keep fit, but it is nearly impossible these days to get regular exercise. In the moment he is finally succeeding in dozing off he feels someone watching, gazing at him in through the window. It is the face of a younger man that is looking in on the almost sleeping figure.

As the eyes of the two men meet, the powerful man is drawn to a world of days gone by.

It is war. Artillery shells rain constantly on the barren earth like a ferocious hailstorm, and the younger man is serving his country with some distinction after years of bloody battle. His country feels it is right to defend itself and its position in the world against restrictions imposed upon it from other countries. Apart from this vague concept of fighting for the right cause, the younger man above all feels that after years of just trying to find a place in the world for himself, he now is doing something worthwhile; fighting the enemies of his country. He and his comrades have sacrificed everything for the past four years. For their nation. Victory is near, so his country’s leaders have told the nation many times now.

In battle, the young man is one day caught in a gas-attack and is hospitalized to receive medical attention, and to recuperate from the ill-effects of this terrible weapon. He is temporarily blinded by the gas, and is enraged as in hospital he learns the news of his country’s sudden and unexpected capitulation. Through the humiliation he feels by the terms of the armistice dictated by the conquering nations, he sees the future.

In his bedroom, the sleeping man is turning fitfully as he sees the faces of the young, dead men, his compatriots and brothers in arms march past him. All betrayed by their own leaders! What a waste! What an outrage!

The images slowly reside and are engulfed in dark clouds from fires long gone, and he is just beginning to relax and drift into deep sleep as he notices another face looking in at him. This time it is an older version of himself. Ten or more years must have gone by, because the older person looks very frail and ill. His shoulders are sagging, and his hands are shaking. There is a cunning madness in the eyes of this onlooker, as if he brings no compassion and it is this look that startles the powerful man as he follows this older ghost of himself to a huge white expanse, which surely cannot be hell, because it is far too cold here.

He is witness to a fatigued army’s annihilation through starvation, cold, and many years of campaigning. The enemy has several advantages. They are superior in numbers and in equipment. They have gained the initiative by wrestling it from the hands of the invaders at an extremely costly price. They are more ruthless than the once so great, but now crumbling army opposing them. An army which is running out of vehicles, ammunition, food, clothes, hope, and life.

The soldiers of this huge but lost army march past, divison following endless division, every piece of garment white from the perma-frost making it quite impossible to tell the color of the uniform behind the dirty rags, every face frosty, the expressions behind the solid frozen eyeballs changing between deep sadness, complete resignation, rage, betrayal, and utter despair.

The location changes to what at first look is similar to a large, dark cellar, but this cellar is vast, and is lit by numerous light-bulbs. Often the lights flicker, and this flickering coincides with the loud booms coming ever closer to the location as the city in which it is placed is quickly being completely reduced to rubble. Just a few days ago, this dungeon was still quite busy and teeming with life, the powerful man directing his armies and conferencing with his generals. But now, only those who could not go, are left. The bunker is quickly tuning into a morgue, as the cohorts of the once powerful man take the lives of their family, before taking their own.

The dog is put to sleep, and darkness falls over the scene.

-----

It is morning in the Bavarian Alps, and his girlfriend asks him if he has slept well; ”Hast du gut geschlafen?”

”Ach Eva, liebste. Ich habe gesehen, was nicht sein darf. Es gibt so viel zu tun und wir müssen uns beeilen”

My dear one. I have seen what must not come to pass. There is so much work to do and we must hurry.