Better Left Alone
Copyright© 2012 by Lapi
Chapter 9
There was no joy in the Crimea that evening, as we scurried away, heads held down in shame. Good intentions did not compensate for stupidity, and I had been quite foolish.
I hated when things did not work out the way I had thought they would, but hey, we had saved those lads from getting killed. It looks like the voice was right, the interventions have consequences, not always what was intended.
Since there were not a lot of good press on failures, it was difficult to find events, which might be changed to a success.
Certain things had always bothered me, although I resented what the Tsar had done, the slaughter and rape of Alexandria and her daughters was without any validity. The French Revolution was even worse. Citizen be damned, it was wrong. Had Napoleon been a little taller I might have even liked him; but as so many before and after he just wasted his men to feed his pride and self-worth. Not sure if any other military leader ever did that, but there might have been a few.
I kept trying to remember dates or places we could change. The voice had said my mind could be used to select a new location. I began to just think, anyone out there that needs help? There were millions of cries in my head; I focused on battles where my help could be useful.
One was found, the light came and we were transported, somewhere.
We found ourselves in Africa, Biafra to be exact and it was 1965. Not much had been said what was going on there, after all, those people were just savages, right? What were a million babies, women and children after-all, who would miss them, besides there were more important wars going on, Viet Nam, now there was a good war.
Although there was not just a single, decisive battle; once you were there you could see the effects that wanton destruction had in the eyes of the people. Like I said there were only babies, women and children. The old men had long ago been killed and the young ones run off or fighting the government troops.
When they were not tossing babies in the air or kicking the bodies like in a game of football, they were raping the women before killing them. It seemed a hard life, they were always so busy. I knew not much could be done but at least these pigs would feel what it was like to face armed troops not half-starved women and children pleading for their lives.
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