“He said go,” protested the soldier holding a gun.
“No, he said take your time,” replied the other soldier.
“He said go.”
“He said take your time.”
And this continued for half an hour.
“Are you done?” asked the sergeant suddenly. “Get going. Now!”
The soldiers jumped the side of the trench and started moving, still fussing about the orders, not paying attention to the whistling war around them.
It was fast, it was painless. Their lives and their disagreements were now part of the past.
Their families would receive a letter of condolences. It would be stamped in red.