True story of the Ottoman War

[MaDuce]

Hello guys. I'm working on some books as a spare time project. I am creating two topics to share some of it with you guys. 2 topics because the examples I am using are long and very different subject matters.

This first one is a true story about the Ottoman War of the middle ages. Some historians consider this conflict to be the first world war. The fall of Constantinople is covered in this story but believe it or not, that is not the climax nor the most important engagement in the story.

This is far from finished, has some misspellings, punctuation errors, missing details and overall need for improvement. Enjoy!

Be forewarned that there is some realistic gore in this chapter.

02. The Good Warrior.

East Transylvania, Hungarian Empire.

37 years later

It was a calm summer morning in a small valley village. The village sat on the side of a flowing stream that went through the valley and small farms surrounded the village clear in to the hills. The valley was like that of a fairytale. Meadows full of beautiful flowers, bees and fruit trees littered the area. The housing and farming development was accompanied by small roads for wagons and buggies to travel. The community was filled with small huts, wooden houses, sheds and a few stone buildings. The roads and walkways were paved with gravel to keep it in tact during rainfall. Wagons, farm equipment and livestock littered the community. A small Orthodox church was located at the center of town.

The men were dressed in short work pants, suspenders and tunics. Most men were thick bearded with rough hair, sometimes in naturally formed dreadlocks result of poor hygiene. The more wealthy men had short beards, mustaches and shoulder length haircuts.

The women were dressed in colorful dresses that nearly touched the ground when they stood and had thick scarfs wrapped around their heads so that not a single strand of hair could be seen. Most of the boys were play sword fighting with sticks while the girls sat under trees telling each other stories or playing in gardens or with animals.

The village watchmen sat on a porch playing chess and doing exercises on this peaceful summer day.

Beyond the village, a preteen girl was out picking strawberries on a farm for her parents, who promised her a delicious strawberry desert as a reward for her assistance in church services earlier in the week. She had been told by her parents to stay on the property to prevent harm by wild animals and to keep from getting in trouble with the neighbors. As tempting as it was for her to step out of bounds, she remained obedient to her parents and picked strawberries only on their property.

Her father had gone in to town to buy supplies while her mother was in the house sewing damaged cloths while keeping her ears pealed of her daughters activities and those of their livestock.

The strawberry patch on the farm was surrounded by tall grass and woods beyond it. A trail went from the side of the strawberry patch clear in to the woods. Since the girl wanted to make shorter trips in the hotter part of the day, she chose to pick the outer rows of strawberries first. As she continued to pick strawberries, a grown man's hand suddenly covered her mouth firmly and she found herself being held down firmly by the man and in the blink of an eye, she had completely forgotten about picking strawberries and was filled with terror, not knowing who had grabbed her or what he wanted. Was this one of the monsters in the stories that she had heard perhaps?

The man very quietly but firmly said something to her. She did not understand the language, but she got the feeling that it had something to do with her keeping quiet. She instinctively knew that she would be killed if she made the slightest sound.

The man holding her sat her up and a second set of hands cut a piece of her dress away with a large knife and slipped it under the hand that held her mouth and tightly gagged her with it. Then the hand carefully moved away from her mouth but it was replaced with the knife at her throat. The man with the knife carefully walked in front of her without moving the knife from her throat, looked down at her and said something again. Again, she couldn't understand what he said, but knew it had to do with keeping quiet. Now that she could see their faces, she was almost certain who they were. The man had a slender turban around his head which was tied at the back and the excess of it hung down over his shoulder. His cloths were baggy, he wore a curved single edge sword and a match lock pistol in his belt and a full length long gun over his shoulder. This was all suspicious but what really gave away who they were was the knife at her throat. It was polished to a mirror shine yet  it had a weird pattern in the metal, similar to wood grains on knotted wood.

This reminded her of what her father would tell them when he visited home from his services in the Hungarian army. He told them that they had killed an Ottoman commander who was wielding a mighty sword that was cutting right through their shields and armor. After killing the man, they took the mans sword and presented it to their lord. He had described the sword as being very shiny but having a weird wood-like pattern in the metal. She also remembered her father telling her that his lord told them that it was a Damascus sword and were a secret weapon of the ottoman army. "Is this a Damascus blade that he is holding at my throat? If so, he must be an important man." It then occurred to her that he was in deed much better dressed and much better equipped then the other soldiers that she saw.

That's when she realized that they were approaching her house where her mother was. At this point, she didn't care if they were going to kill her, she was going to scream anyway, but the Turkish commander caught on and quickly tackled her mouth again.

The soldiers entered the house with bows drawn. They clearly didn't want to create a disturbance with gunfire as this would arouse the nearby community.

Then the girl heard some stomping and tumbling and the whining of her mother. The little girl was crying though the Turk's tear covered hand covering her mouth prevented her cries from being able to be heard at a distance.

Then a Turkish soldier came out and said something to the commander. Then the commander picked the little girl up, still holding her mouth and walked her through the strawberry patch and in to the house where she found her mother hog tied on the ground in tears and with signs of recent battering on her face suggesting that the Turks beat her before hog tying her.

The little girl was then hog tied along with her mother.

Then the men began talking to each other in Arabic:

"You two, watch this house until I send a runner." said the commander. "You, find a good spot in those brushes over there to watch the town with your rifle. The rest of you will accompany me in to town."

Then one of the men looked at the mother and said in Turkish: "Man, we're going to have some fun tonight." Then another Turkish soldier said to the commander: "Sir, that reminds me. The younger girl looks really sweet. Can I have her?" The commander replied: "That's enough. We'll talk about this later. Besides, you may find girls you like more before we're done here. Now focus on the mission." Then the men began laughing in a perverted tone as they began to take positions and move out.

As the commander and his men left the building and began moving towards the town, a woman screaming could be heard in the distance. The commander paused, became wide eyed and said in a raised voice: "LET'S MOVE!"

They charged through some hay fields, jumping over fences and cutting through farms, seeing their comrades struggle with and terrorize locals along the way. They soon made it to the village.

They went in to the stores where they beat up the men in them and tossed them out in to the streets as did the other units involved as they entered the village from different directions.

Turkish soldiers marching in formations with guns drawn herded the terrified villagers together in the middle of the village. Struggling boys were tossed in to a pile and hogtied with rope from the stores. As this was happening, a Turkish soldier rode in to town on an Arabian stallion. He was dressed in fine linens and velvet. His turban was large with a jewel at the center and feathers sticking up. He wore a thick, bushy beard. Some lower ranking soldiers who appeared to be of western decent laid out a carpet and knelt down for him to step on their shoulders.

[MaDuce]

Once on the carpet, the commander from before approached him and bowed before him. The higher ranking Turk said to the commander: "Why was the town alerted of our coming?" The commander replied: "I do not yet know. What I know is that myself and my men heard a woman screaming as we approached the village. The high ranking turk replied: "Then investigate. I expect you to find out who is responsible for allowing this. You know that I do not tolerate this sort of behavior among our ranks." The commander replied: "Yes sir. I know and I will not fail you. The high-ranking Turk replied: "Good." Then turning to the captivated villagers, the high-ranking Turk spoke in the Hungarian language so the towns people could understand him: "This village is now under the jurisdiction of the Ottoman Empire. You will be provided a translato....

Then a resilient preteen boy finished chewing away the cloth he was gagged with and said: "My dad is going to KILL you!"

The high-ranking Turk, without a word, quickly drew a decorated rifle from his horse, had the wick lit and aimed it at the boy when a man in the crowd of captives began to scream. The Turkish soldiers quickly apprehended the man and held him down, knowing they might get in trouble for hitting the man in front of the high-ranking Turk. The high-ranking Turk said to the boy: "Well, now we know who your father is." The boy paused and was then relieved to see the high-ranking Turk put his rifle away. Then, he shouted to the commander, as if to make his voice heard by the whole town: "Bring me the fathers head." A translator repeated his words in Turkish to the commander. This being a vocal practice used for terror purposes.

The father began to scream and struggle as he was dragged to the commander. The commander drew his sword. The preteen boy began to scream. Seeing this, the high-ranking Turk yelled: "HALT" to the commander. Then, in a soft and caring voice, he said to the preteen boy: "Oh, is that sword too big and terrifying for you? Alright, I wont make them behead your father with that large and scary weapon." The Turks became confused. Then he said to the commander: "Put your sword away." The confused commander put his sword away. Then after a short pause, the high-ranking Turk said in a calm voice: "Behead him with your knife."

The commander, apparently use to carrying out horrible executions, showed no hesitation as he drew his knife and gradually cut the boy's father's head off over several terror filled seconds time, causing the child utmost mental trauma as he watches his screaming father's head slowly be removed from his body and then placed on the ground in front of him.

The high-ranking Turk said to the towns people: "Does anyone else wish to disrespect us?"

The people were silent. Then he started issuing orders to his men to prepare the people for departure in to slavery when a Turk guarding the rooftops yelled out: "RIDERS COMING FROM THE NORTH! The commander yelled: "IDENTIFY THEM." After several seconds the rooftop guard replied: "ARMORED CAVALRY, AND THEY LOOK LIKE THEY HAVE SOME BATTLE WAGONS. THEY ARE MOVING FAST....WAIT!" Then after a few more seconds, he continued: "THEY ARE FLYING THE ITALIAN AND HUNGARIAN FLAGS!"The high-ranking Turk yelled: "IT'S THAT MERCENARY GROUP! PREPARE FOR BATTLE!" The commander yelled: "SECURE THE PEOPLE IN THE CHURCH AND TAKE DEFENSIVE FORMATIONS! GO, GO!" 

As the people were gathered in to the church, the rooftop watchman yelled: "They are breaking up! Battle wagons are staying on the roads. Cavalry cutting through the meadows.

The Turks began taking up hidden positions around town while others remained in front of the buildings. The high-ranking Turk took up position in a stone building and the commander took up a first floor indoor position that was strategically placed so that he could deliver commands throughout the village.

The town went quiet for a few minutes before they started hearing occasional shots in the distance, including one near the strawberry patch of the little girls house.

Some of the Turks began joking among themselves that the sharpshooters were busy when the rooftop watchman yelled: "The cavalry has..." Then a led ball struck him in the neck and he began gagging and tumbling around before falling off of the roof and landed in front of his comrades where he continued gagging for a few seconds before passing away.

The commander heard the commotion and sent a runner to find out what happened. After receiving the news, he asked his men to figure out what the guard was trying to say when he got shot. Perhaps he never needed to give that order. As he turned around, he got a glimpse through a window in a nearby room of the cavalry, standing still in the nearby meadows and farm crops less then 70 yards away. Knowing the crafty reputation of this mercenary force, he was spooked by the motionless sight of the cavalry. Peaking his head outside of the door, he saw the battle wagons now guarding every road in and out of the village. It was clear to him now, they were surrounded.

He thought: "No matter, we have too many sharpshooters in the brushes." When something occurred to him: "How were they able to hit our guard at 70 yards?"  Taking another glance at the battle wagons, it became clear to him. The battle wagons were more then half empty. Soldiers secretly unloaded out of them while in rout to the village and the shots heard earlier were not fired by the Turkish sharpshooters, but shots fired AT the Turkish sharpshooters. The commander, knowing how few his options were, ran across the enemy guarded road to meet with the high-ranking Turk and give him the news.

"You fool!" yelled the high-ranking Turk. "Don't you realize that they want you to think that. Our forces are too well trained to allow something like that!" The commander replied: "With all do respect sir, recent history suggests otherwise. This mercenary group has repeatedly emerged victorious in engagements against us just like this one."

The high ranking Turk, realizing that their recent atrocities against the villagers would be exposed and revenge sought if captured, became terrified and moving about frantically. The commander knew nothing of how to deal with a higher-ranking Turk then himself when out of control, so he chose to just leave the high-ranking Turk be and mount a suicide resistance. He ran outside and yelled to his men: "We can't win this battle. Do as you will, but I suggest you die fighting, for if you are captured, you may die a horrible death!

Then the Turks gathered in to small groups and led fulharted dashes against the battle wagons. As they charged, gunfire and arrows cut them down and the few who made it to the battle wagons were chopped up by swords or shot by the still hidden sharpshooters. Then the cavalry began to charge back and fourth through the village with lances drawn, apparently attempting to draw fire before dismounting, and going around kicking in doors and dragging hiding Turks out.

Seeing this ahead of time, the commander, who managed to get to safety in his original post, drew his pistol to take his own life when a mercenary charging towards his building saw him through the window and thinking he was trying to shoot him, fired at the commander with his pistol and the led ball hit one of his arms, fracturing the bone as it glanced off and landed in the other arm causing the commander to fire his gun in to the roof. The mercenary busted in to the room and drug the Ottoman commander out in to the streets with the rest of the Turks to find a small group of mercenary cavalry nearby. Among them was a colorful soldier dressed in shiny silver armor of high quality, white leather and a raven symbol on his chest plate. That raven told him everything. It was Janos Hunyadi, the terror of the Turks who had a growing reputation for eliminating Turkish activity in the area, and a wanted man in Ottoman Turkey.

Janos rested quietly on his horse as the town was secured and his cavalry force returned to formation. Then he asked one of the cavalry soldiers to free the towns people in the church and asked another to find some surgeons to give the towns people some medical attention.

The towns people were cared for in the church but kept inside as they were cared for. The mercenary soldiers inquired of the towns people of the whereabouts of their family members who were missing and went from house to house throughout the valley freeing the people throughout the area and giving them medical attention as needed before bringing them to the camp in front of the church where they were kept and cared for.

Janos entered the church and looked about. The people seamed terrified and some battered, but no serious injuries. Still, one person did catch his eyes. It was a young boy, speechless but in tears. Janos knew this sight all too well. This was someone filled with ultimate hate and sorrow. While he pitied the boy, he also realized that the child had recently had the kind of experience that breeds monsters.

Looking down at the boy, he tried to place his hand calmly on the boys shoulder when the boy became tense, so Janos eased off. After a moment of staring at the boy and thinking carefully, he left the building, realizing that he was powerless to ease the boy's suffering. As he stepped outside, a mercenary came to him announcing that they caught the Turkish commander alive. Walking to the enemy encampment, he found the high-ranking Turk tied to a stick and Janos' men laughingly rotating him over a small camp fire they made as if roasting him on a spit. Janos approached saying: "What are you men doing!?" One of them replied: "Just roasting a pig we caught." followed by some further laughter among his men.

Janos replied: That's enough. Take him down." One soldier said: "But..." when Janos interrupted: "We are servants, not lords. We do not have jurisdiction to kill these men. They will have to stand trial. Go now and interview the people. Get as much information about these Turks as you possibly can."

The sighing men went ahead and took the man off of the camp fire and dropped him on the ground in the enemy camp, leaving him still tied to the stick before moving on to interview the villagers.

The Turk acted relieved that Janos refused to harm them, so Janos bent down to the Turk and said: "It is a shame for you that I do not have the power to execute you, for I would have cut your head off." The Turk became confused but relieved. Janos continued: "My lord usually impales you people."

At that, Janos returned to his feet and left the Turk who was now filled with Terror, wishing that Janos hadn't told him that, true or not.

During the trial period, Janos rested in a church building, praying and meditating, for he knew that injustice was being conducted by his lords as he spoke. As he was meditating, a Franciscan monk came in to speak with him. "I see you in hear all the time young man" the monk said. Janos, now with tears in his eyes simply said: "yes" in a calm tone. "The monk calmly replied: "Something troubles you." Janos replied: "Yes." The monk replied: "May I ask what?" Janos replied: "Are you a good man?" The Franciscan monk replied: "Oh, that. Yes, I believe I am a good man." Janos replied: "I see. I apologize. Too many take up religious positions in order to grow in power and influence, caring nothing for God and justice." The monk replied: "You have nothing to fear then. I move in the opposite direction. I was wealthy and powerful before I took up the priesthood." Janos replied: "Why?" The monk replied: "Well, I cannot think of words to properly answer that question." Then he paused and thought for a moment and then continued: "Some men are born with everything the world can offer, but the world cannot offer immortality." Janos understood him completely and said: "I see. Clearly you are a good fellow, so I will answer your question openly. I love my church and my God, and I fight for them, but the people around me do not. They love riches and power. The closer someone is to God, the more my people abuse them. This confuses me. Who am I really fighting for?"

The monk softly replied: "Can you read Janos?" Janos replied: "No, I would like to some day, but I have never been taught the written word." The Franciscan monk replied: "Then let me inform you of a bible passage that doesn't get brought up very often. "Do not punish the son for his fathers crimes and do not punish a father for his son's crimes. Each man is responsible for his own sins." "In your case, this means to not worry about the crimes committed by the corrupted in our society. God will deal with them as he sees fit. As long as you protect and care for his people, he will care for you." Janos replied: "But who are Gods people? surely not these murderers and tyrants around us?" The Franciscan monk replied: "Again, you ask a question that was answered in scripture, by the Messiah himself. During his famous sermon on the mound, he had a child approach him and told the people that to be of his people, you must be like a child, and come to the father like a child. He also went on to say that those who abuse such people would face God's wrath. Janos, when I see you praying in here, I am reminded of this passage. A good man who serves his heavenly father like a child does his earth father. A man trapped in this valley of tears." Janos replied: "Valley of tears it is. Still, who are Gods people?" The Franciscan monk replied: "We have more in common then you know. We both visit cities, towns and small villages on a regular basis We both meet the common folk. Perhaps one difference between us is that I see many people just like yourself among the peasantry. I think the answer to your questions of purpose can be found by paying closer attention to the nature of the common folk. I think you will realize that you are far from alone in this struggle between good and evil."Janos replied: "Certainly not today, but there is something I must know." The Franciscan monk replied: "Yes?" Janos continued: "You know my name, but I do not know yours?" "The Franciscan monk replied: "I am Giovanni." Janos suddenly became wide eyed, looked up at him and replied: "Giovanni of Capistran?" Giovanni replied: "Yes."

Janos' heart was suddenly filled with joy and he replied: "For a long time I have desired and prayed to meet you some day." Giovanni replied: "It has been a good experience for the both of us I believe." Janos smiled.  Giovanni continued: "I have enjoyed this conversation and I sincerely hope to speak with you again young man. I hope we will meet again, God will it." Janos replied: "My words exactly. Thank you Giovanni. Today you have given me a blessing that no other man could."

At that, Giovanni bowed before him and departed, leaving Janos in peace to further think about the words that Giovanni spoke to him.

[MaDuce]

The story is focused on a medieval warrior named Janos Hunyadi.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Hunyadi

Other VIPs in the story include but are not limited to:

Giovanni de Capistran

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_of_Capistrano

Vladislava Basarab of Wallachia

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vlad_the_Impaler

Sultan Murad II

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murad_II

Sultan Mehmed II

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mehmed_II

Pope Calixtus XIII

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pope_Callixtus_III

and even Joan of Ark makes a brief appearance.

Major battles covered in the story include:

Kosovo (story's opening event)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Kosovo

Varna

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Varna

Constantinople

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fall_of_Constantinople

Nandorfehervar (story's climax)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siege_of_Belgrade_%281456%29

[MaDuce]

Hello. I'm not quite sure why I didn't post this earlier. This is the 1st. chapter to that book.

When writing a book, I at least (and probably most novelists) start out with what you might think of as a sketch of your chapter and then broaden it in to a portrait.

This one is just past the sketching phase. This particular battle is a sour subject in the Balkans and; in addition to being a matter of historical accuracy (which is very tough due to the controversies involved) there's also a need to be careful about NOT treading in the wrong territory. So much as taking a neutral stance is offensive to someone and it's impossible to tell this story, regardless of how accurate you are, without offending someone. Simply minimizing the damage without sacrificing historical accuracy is a huge challenge with the book as a whole, but this particular chapter especially. Likewise, this part of the story; despite being the very beginning, is the slowest development in the entire story. TBH, I'm on the brink of keeping it short just for the sake of staying out of the political crossfire.

Anyway, this part covers the 1389 Battle of Kosovo and it's infamous aftermath:The field of Blackbirds. enjoy!

...........

Though some guesses and potentially fictional details have been added to fill in gaps and breathe life in to this story, the story as a whole is based very closely on real historical records of a forgotten titanic turning point in world history. Some depictions in this story are controversial and not agreed upon by all historians. It is recommended that those interested in the events of this story engage in independent historical research for a better understanding.

01. Prologue.

1191. A vast army led by King Richard I of England landed in Acer as part of a major military campaign that would come to be known as the 3rd crusade. Despite the failure of the crusade, thousands of Muslims would be murdered in cold blood throughout the campaign, triggering resentment in the east that has lasted to this day.

1204. Armies of the 4th crusade pillaged the East Christian Empire of Byzantine. As result of the damage caused by the crusaders, the once prosperous and powerful empire that protected the west from invasion would be reduced to a mere city state; the city state of Constantinople. Despite its limited size, the city state of Constantinople would continue to repel Muslim armies, protected by her strong walls.

1349. The battle of Crecy in France marks the beginning of the age of cannon fire. In subsequent years, castle walls would continue to prove an insufficient defense against the mighty new weapon.

Despite a major defeat by the Samarkand King, “Tamerlane” the Muslim Ottoman Empire remained determined to overthrow Christendom once and for all and continued to build vast and powerful armies for that very purpose.

Despite early warning signs, European powers seamed ignorant of the severity of the brewing threat. A conflict unlike any the world had ever seen was about to begin. It would take a miracle to save Christendom from total conquest.

Kosovo

June 15, 1389

European cavalry rode in to position past small artillery units and halted amidst archers in the hot summer day. Before them, a vast dust cloud was stirred up as the Ottoman soldiers took positions.

  Both armies took a moment to observe one another. The Ottoman army was vast and well equipped with a suspicious volume of the latest powder guns and, Arabian stallions, bows and a wide variety of blades, including many of their infamous Damascus swords. To make matters worse, the Ottoman ranks were overwhelming in size. Large formations could be seen gathering over a mile behind the front line and were thickening by the minute. Ottoman soldiers seamed to liter the countryside for miles like a vast flower field.

But the European army was also vast and could also be seen gathering as far as the eye could see and beyond. And the European army was a coalition of troops from several European countries and principalities. Some of these united armies had proven potent adversaries to the ottomans all by themselves. To see them now united in to a single fighting force drove home to the Ottomans that this was going to be an extremely tough battle to win.

The order was given and Ottoman arrows flaw over head towards the front lines of the European ranks like a violent rain storm. While foot soldiers and archers raised their shields, the cavalry received their order and charged forward, missing most of the arrow barrage. Among them were some of Hungary’s famed archers who some began maneuvering around the Ottoman ranks, picking off Ottoman troops at speed, making themselves hard to hit. In the at the same time, European knights raced in to the Ottoman front line, trampling rows of Ottoman soldiers and causing disorientation and panic. However, it started to backfire and the cavalry themselves found themselves mixed up among enemy troops and the battlefield instantly irrupted in to a massive brawl.

But things were not at their worst yet. As the brawl expanded, artillery units of both sides began firing canister shot at one another and those equipped with handgonnes were using them.

As night fell, the battle continued to rage on, though the vast littering of human and animal bodies made fighting much more difficult and ranged weapons such as bows, cannons and handgonnes were finding themselves as much in demand and use in the dark as in daylight, transferring the look of the battlefield to the image of a vast and violent lightning storm. The overwhelming smoke and dust in the air from the fighting only added to the confusion and chaos.

The following morning, the sun rose over a very different sight. Both armies had been nearly wiped out and the few survivors had left the main battlefield.

The battlefield it’s self was a horrific sight. The bodies of fallen men, horses and ruined equipment was condensed enough to cover the ground it’s self from visibility, and this sight of tragedy and devastation covered the earth much further then the eye could see, and the bloody red sunrise and vast swarms of blackbirds traveling the sky and picking at the corpses of the fallen added to this surreal sight that seamed as though it came right out of a nightmare. And the stench of the decaying corpses meant that it stunk as much like a vast landfill as it looked.

But people still dared venture in to this horrific sight, for nearly each of the thousands of fallen men on this battlefield were a loved member of someone’s family. Some families had journeyed to see their loved ones home from the battlefield or were local residence. Sadly, there would be no homecoming. Mothers, who only the previous day, had anticipated the happy and glorious homecoming of their young boys they had raised from birth, taught morals and filled the hearts of with the dreams of were searching this massive pile of rotting bodies, only to find the butchered and mangled remains of their loved one. The sight of a heartbroken and agonizing mother cradling the mangled body of her youthful and once happy little boy and weeping to the point of insanity over the loss of love and shattered dreams was so common that any witness would have been desensitized. Thousands of young lives, dreams and families destroyed. And for what? Disillusion made the true inevitable end results of men’s pride and ambitions clearly visible and inescapable on this field.

Sadly, pride and selfish ambitions are perhaps the darkest qualities of human nature, and anything that is part of human nature is not easily overcome. Likewise, the lesson this tragedy should have taught would never be learned by man as a whole, and it would not be long before history would repeat it’s self yet again.