It's Late. Or getting at least.
I'm tired. VERY tired.
Most of the enemy is either dead or dying.
How old is he? Probably about 16, 17...
Regardless, he's an enemy, he must be eliminated.
But what's the point?
The poor boy doesn't even notice I'm here.
Although hiding in the grass is a chore.
It's not like there's anyone around to see me.
In fact, where's my battalion?
No matter. To the subject at hand.
I have...7 rounds left. That should be enough.
He looks unarmed. He looks like he's trying to find his battalion.
Wait a minute. No weapons would suggest that he's a messenger. That makes sense.
I do hope he notices the dead bodies around him. The smell must be murder.
I hope the smell doesn't reach me then...
This rifle is getting heavy. I must make a decision.
I have a clear shot of his head, chest, and if need be, his legs.
But what I am going to report?
"I shot an enemy messenger today!!!"
"Medal Of Honour, Son!!"
Not likely.
But what if he us relaying vital information to the enemy?
I bet it's something like "They've run out of Ketchup! Now is the time to strike!!"
Well I'll make sure we restock brother...
Yikes! My gun just slipped! I hope he didn't hear that...
Where was I? Right, decision time.
There will be no promotions for this kill, or even congratulations.
All I know is that this boy's doom lies within the shaft of this rifle.
The trigger is close, yet feels so distant from my hands.
This dying grass may hide my body, but it cannot hide my hesitation.
(Nor a terrible itch that is creeping up my...)
Oh No! He's walking away. I must take a shot.
...
He's too far now.
I could always follow him slowly and stealth kill him.
Nah, it's getting dark. My arms hurt too much to even try it.
Guess it's time to leave then.
I just hope I made the right decision.
It's just one German messenger boy.
What could possibly happen to this world if I let him live?
It's not like he's going to become an evil dictator and take over half of Europe...