Somewhere in the mix, back then, the power of sticking together, visual and written correspondence; art and writing, momentarily became a lethal deficit. 

  Some had been shoved behind enemy lines all over Europe because of the timing of policy and treaty filtering to the ground.  A spy nest happened to be where sudden infantry (moments before, pedestrians) "holed up" for as long as possible before having to follow, follow, move, move. 

  A strange thing had happened before being chased with flame throwers put people over that edge of truth is stranger than fiction.  A miniscule in the big geographic picture morning cook fire had drawn "locals" from a wooded area.  Only these had been staved from sudden death by being shown the photographs of professionals somewhere out there.  The place where the locals came from, a simple house, was then commandeered. 

  Before people were even shaking rest consciousness a person in a sheet came behind an innocent and slashed at throat.  Blood dripped through the frozen fingers of the hand that shot up "to feel" what was that.  The sight of a dropped folding knife with blood on it and the sound of footsteps in leaves, running away, explained what had just happened. 

  Not very long after gauzing the abrasion the group was shown the dozens of photographs, a hit list.  And the cut person's eyes welled with tears.  "That's not even me.  That's my sibling." 

  Eventually tackled and quartered the onis for "the botch" still fell on us.  Some of us lifelong friends had been in training together our whole lives.  And had, at different times, sworn before God and community, to uphold The Ten Commandments.  Thou shalt not kill, being one of those forced us to be clever.  Resistance, self-defence were set at the top of our priority lists with correspond.  A dis-arming "conversation" was all it took to break down warmode since the Arctic.  Seeing someone familiar before big-group clarification of tasks and goals had most likely significantly contributed to the mèlee that morning. 

  Although the debates about factors and instantly the past's actions are forever the skirmishes of history, in or out of a battlefield it is the God-given directive to survive.