Trench Crosses

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War is no glory. No adventure. No heroism. War is steel, blood, and madness. It is the rasping breath of lungs rotting from gas and frost. The trembling hands gripping bayonets because there is nothing else to hold onto. The roar of artillery that turns cities into ash. The silence after an explosion, where a person stood just moments before, now nothing but scattered remains. It is hunger and disease. The endless march through the mud, feet sinking with every step. The stench of death that clings to uniforms, skin, and bone. The sound of a comrade whispering for his mother with his last breath. There is no honor in war—only suffering, only loss. And when the killing finally stops, all that remains are the crosses. Simple wooden markers, half-buried in the earth, surrounded by broken stone and shattered dreams. They are not symbols of triumph, but of tragedy. They do not stand for victory, but for the unbearable price paid in blood for the madness of those in power. And it is always the same ones who ignite that madness. Not the soldiers who weep for their fallen brothers. Not the people who simply wish to live in peace. But those who spread hate, who divide, who manipulate fear to seize control. Those who speak of strength and tradition while leading only to suffering and ruin. Extremists. Nationalists. The warmongers who have already drowned the world in fire—twice. And now they rise again, waving new flags, telling the same old lies. Never again. We love the game, not the war. Our battles belong on the tabletop, not in the streets of our cities. Our miniatures fall so that real people don’t have to. We are tabletop players—we create, we think, we build. We do not destroy. That is why we cannot stay silent. Because silence allows the chains of the past to be reforged. It allows history’s worst mistakes to be repeated. War begins in the mind—so let’s make sure the only battles fought there are in our games. I have seen 28 people die. And even one is too many. But now imagine millions. Imagine entire families erased, generations wiped out before they could even begin. Imagine homes turned to dust, cities vanishing in fire, a world where children grow up without ever knowing peace. That is the world we must fight against. Not with guns, not with violence, but with our voices, our choices, our refusal to let history repeat itself. Because even one life lost is too much. And because some things must never happen again.

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