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Nude's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at
the door. The postman muttered something about
wishing he could go too and handed over a yellow
envelope.

It was a command long overdue that called for
healthy, young men.
In reply to your request, please find...
I hereby protest.
To the ways and means you use
You know... I cannot refuse.

So I'll take this vow of Loyalty.
Fight for the right,
You have said,
To be free.

When this time has run its course,
I must... live without remorse.
For the deeds I'm bound to do,
I know... it's all the same to you.

But I won't forget the memory...
Taking a life,
For a life...
To be free.

Nude's life revolved around orders. He found
himself pushed and pulled onto a crowded deck of
uniformed figures who shared the same
expressionless faces. Loved ones stood anxiously
on the pier as the transport faded into
separating mist. Water and night seemed one.
Nude was going to war...

Thunder cracked. Ramps hit the beach and
countless boots assaulted the shore. His heart
punding, Nude stumbled headlong into the
undergrowth in a desperate search for refuge.
Sheets of rain drenched the sunless forest as
the skies opened raging down on the tiny island.
Panic-stricken, Nude staggered forward and fell
unconscious.

Raindrops spattered from the trees onto Nude's
face. Startled and confused, Nude listened in
the humid silence; he was alone and had no idea
where he was. Worst of all, he didn't know what
had become of his Regiment.

The setting sin left Nude with the growing
darkness of his fears. He made camp and slept
with dreams of a dawn rescue, unaware that his
Unit had already left the island. In wartime,
one less soldier is hardly noticeable.

Seasons turned with time. Nude had given up the
search for his Unit but continued to move
through the jungle, bayonet poised, as if a
thousand eyes were upon him. Home was a cave in
a hidden lagoon with abundant vegetation and
fresh springs. The highest point of the island
provided shelter from annual monsoon floods and
sanctuary for his soul.

His military duties consisted of a monthly visit
to the mountain top whereupon he ceremoniously
croaked the national anthem and fired one
precious bullet into the air.

In the loneliness he endured, Nude found an
inner strength that flowed with the rhythm of
instinct.

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