Join the war the flyer said. Become an officer, lead the charge join the cavalry.
Oh my naivety at that time...
I remember training, we had a strict older gentleman who was in his 50s. He was harsh but not cruel, he taught us to shoot from horse back with unmatched aim, how to lead a charge against soldiers with bayonets. How to keep form under fire.

Yet he did not prepare us for the war.
The first time we made contact with the enemy, our bright red uniforms shone with the brass buttons on our chest. There were 100 of us.
We led the charge to the enemy encampment on its flank. There were only 20 men in a fortification made of sand bags.
We thought it would be easy, our training told us that if we split up into a pincer formation we should take them with ease with our speed.

How wrong we were. we were maybe 1000 yards out when we heard the first crack of the gun then more. 
I was the leader of my group that I lead in a triangular formation. 

I still had faith we would win. Then the shots increased. They became a steady drum beat. Dirt was kicked up all around us, I heard one horse fall, and looked back.
Blood was spraying from the fallen beasts neck its rider crushed under its weight.

Still I believed we could close the distance I rallied my men by pulling out my saber.
Such a futile effort looking back.

I pushed my stead harder, I could see the flash of the muzzle now.
then I realized I could no longer hear the beat of the hoofs of the other horses only the steady mechanical beat of the guns firing upon us.

I didn't look back I was so close still to far to fire upon the enemy accurately . 
I only thought that if I could make it for 4 more seconds I could reach the enemies position, we could win.
then my horse faltered and stumbled.
it fell out from under me dismounting me 
I could feel my left arm crack as it made contact, with the bright green grass.
I rolled for a few yards then tried to gain my composure.

I looked for my horse. A horse I had spent the better part of a year with a horse I had feed and spent many a day training with it was almost a part of me.
Then my eyes lay upon my fallen steed. Half of its head was torn asunder by coper and lead fired by those guns.
I fought back the tears and looked for my friends they could surely avenge my fallen horse. We were cavalry we couldn't be beat by some low class infantry.
Then my eyes fell upon the sight behind my horse.
Men and beast alike on the field were torn apart.
Their bright crimson blood contrasted against the greed fields of grass. 
Their eyes fixated upon the bright blue sky.
I stumbled to my feet my right arm lame I picked up my saber with my left and charged the enemy.
Hatred at how they could beat a force nearly 4 times their size, hatred at how unwashed simpletons could defeat us the well trained and educated of the British military. I charged screaming with all my emotions pouring out of my mouth.

Then the bullets came whizzing by. They sang their song of death a whistle that only my ears could hear.
Then the first hit came right in my gut it did not phase me nor did the second, third, or fourth I made it 10 more yards till a round blew my left arm off. 
Then I fell onto my knees. 
Unable to grasp my wounds in my gut. 
I could feel the blood pouring from my wounds, like water from a leaky barrel.

My vision focused on the ones who had dealt my death.
Still 100 yards away I could barely make their figures out as my vision grew dark.
I could feel my lungs wheezing for air that they could not take in.
I felt numbness in my legs it spread to my torso,
I fell over unable to stay upright my strength being sapped from me.
The guns went silent as I stared at the sky.
I never noticed how puffy the white clouds over rural France were till now. I waited for days and nothing changed just the clouds in the sky moved, eventually the weather would change. For a short while there was more gunfire.

and explosions. the sounds of men. the sounds of fighting. I wanted to move, I had to save my country men from the same fate. 
But I lay powerless as I watched them chewed up by the same guns that fell me.
I watched as the green grass was replaced with the dark ugly clay as shells tore up the land. I saw the bright blue sky change to a sickly green and white as gas filled the air. then one day the shells stopped falling. The guns stopped firing there were no more men.
Slowly I saw the grass grow back and saplings spring from the grass. Although there were some areas they would not grow for there was the sickness of man in the soil. 
A tree grew by my head. It provided shade from the bright sun I was thankful for this. It was a real bother when you cant move or blink. eventually the trees grew into a forest. I can only assume most of me was now covered in growth of some sort. 
Not that I cared. 
Nothing mattered any more.
My thoughts drifted.
Fragmented. 
Then I was brought back to reality by a sudden bang.
That sound, I knew it well.
That was the sound of cannon fire.
With an earth shattering boom some of the trees I had watched grow were smashed , the forest was under siege caught in a conflict by man. Our peaceful resting place was once again a war zone. Men in strange uniforms fought with the queerest metal beasts.
These beast weren't like horses, they were constructs of metal, with long links of chain that moved them and a long tube that would shoot flame, which I could only assume propelled shot much like that of cannons on ships. 
I saw men fall. 
My tree was splintered and destroyed I was no longer shaded from the sun.
As the battle raged on more men were cut down. a fellow wearing a grey uniform fell right next to me.
I watched him gasp and try to cling to life.
A futile effort. I could see his wound, it cut through his lungs.
He eventually expired, his body decayed.
He must be sharing the same fate that I am now.
An eternity unable to move,

fated only to observe.
Once again the sounds of battle ended, and it was quite one more. We lost souls were joined with many more. If only we could talk to each other instead of enduring this eternity of silence. 
Many years passed, the grass once again grew showing its tenacity and ability to withstand the cruelty of man, the same for the trees. 
We were greeted with the sound of birds and the frolicking of wildlife. They must find the burnt metal remains of those large tracked devices strange. I watched a bird make residence upon ones top.
So for many years I observed as the bird and its mate would come and go until it was replaced by its offspring. 
The infernal machine slowly rusted but refused to yield to the elements,
Unlike flesh its body refused to be absorbed by the earth.
I wonder if it like me is stuck here unable to move.
Forced for an eternity to stare out as the world moves on. If only I could talk to it or anyone else.

one day though I heard some one. Actually it was a group of people. They wore work boots, although they weren't made of leather. They held some sort of devices in their hands, that glowed. they walked around pushing a cart. Stoping occasionally to dig something from the ground. I would hear them shout when they found something then they would work very carefully. 
Bones, they would gentle pick them up and assort them and any items they would find and put them in a bin.
AS the days went on they got closer and closer to me. 
I was fearfully. So many years I had spent here and now it looks like I might be leaving.
Their shovels tore the dirt that had accumulated around me.
They pulled me out of the ground carefully. And put me in a bin.
In some time I was transferred, and brought to a field. For as far as the eye could see there were small white marble crosses. 
I heard a sound that was a bugle playing the day is done.
I saw my flag and that of that of the enemy the huns... I also saw flags I didn't recognize. Carefully they lowered us into our new home. In the ground. As I was put in I could read some of the other grave markers. some of them had names that were from my country some were from lands I had never heard of. 
Finally I was laid to rest in my little plot of land.
And for the first time I heard voices. I heard cries. Not that the living could hear. I saw men young and old. Walking around wearing a multitude of uniforms. Some were hugging others crying. I was finally home.