[Fruit Man walks to the center of the stage]
I remember the day he left and the day he returned. Crowds cheered him off but only a few welcomed him home. The fact was that nobody had cared enough to go out of their way to see the negative aspects of the war they once had encouraged. I saw them return, one by one, leaving the ships, almost all of them broken in a way, physically or mentally. They deserved thanks, so I gave them fruits, an action that would mean little when they left, but means the world to them now. This soldier, I was there as he went and came, and I have seen everything.
Today, unlike a year ago, no big welcome home for them. They were not welcomed home as they had expected they would be. Thousands came to send them off and cheer them on. Soldiers happily marching down the streets, waving to cheering crowds, accepting flowers from pretty girls. Some cheeky soldiers may even steal a kiss here and there. It was so joyous, proud and honourable. Everything was rosy and good. Everyone thought it would be a short war and a happy one and of course we will win. No one gave a thought about anyone getting hurt or killed.
He had once been so young and virile. Now he is crippled, unattractive. He had been foolish when he was young; the media persuaded him that the war was glorious, fun and glamorous. It was cool wearing an army uniform and carrying a rifle. It was exciting, an adventure and maybe returning a hero with a medal. AAH, the pretty girls and the kisses, the good things to come. The young soldier isn’t thinking about getting hurt or killed.
Then, the reality! It is wrong that society does not appreciate the hardships and sacrifices that were made on their behalf. Almost none of the soldiers’ work was grand, glorious or fun. Their work was necessary. Most of this work goes against what we cherish in our society. We were taught that ‘life is valuable’ and ‘violence is bad’. This war, a war...
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