Humble End of the Facade

One bullet. It took one bullet to trigger the most devastating tragedy in human history. A war that was meant to end all wars. It was supposed to be the golden drop going into a teacup, emptying the pot full of human blood spill. Alas, the results were different. Four great empires once prosperous were destroyed in vain, moreover others, more fortunate ones, were left with nothing but mourning for their fallen comrades, friends and family. There were neither losers nor winners in this war, only tears, suffering and death spread across the world. Such was the Great War.

And those most bloody, overflowed with violence, battles took place in Europe, the modern cradle of civilization. Strangers and dearest of people equally directed rifles at each other, foolishly perceiving to showcase the might of their empire. They thought of it as a greater cause, wholeheartedly believing in the righteousness of ones' evil deeds. But in the end, a murder remains a murder and an attempt to justify it, ridicules the basis of human morals. Like living puppets, soldiers were doing what they were told by the commanders. And the same commanders were striving towards the benefits for their homeland, they were blinded by glory, thus willing to sacrifice people they vowed to protect.

One of such battles took place in the territory of Belgium. The cradle of industry of the lowlands was engulfed in the most brutal way of waging war. Trench warfare. It required a strong will and love for the fatherland. In between the misery of life in cold and damp narrow paths, soldiers were either shooting down rushing foes or were running like bulls themselves right into the claws of their demise. Indeed, it was an unnecessary, wasteful and grotesque way of fighting, which did not bear many fruits, since the enemy side adapted the same strategy, developing an endless stalemate out of this farce.

Despite that, they could not change the strategy on a whim, since the enemy would immediately strike back once there is an opening. So was the justification of this massacre by the one in chief of the French army, or rather the ones who stood above all else. Those people were outsiders to the French soil, however, the most European of the families. From their network of unknown size, only a single personnel was present during the meeting of the Entente command. 

In spite of the expectations, which set that person as someone old and wise, it was actually a young gal. The blonde woman sat by the edge of the conference table in military attire. Her eyes were green like emeralds with an absent spark, as if she was a doll.

"This is ridiculous! We can't send in any more troops into this hellhole!" exclaimed one of the older gentlemen and pushed away the map with several pins that stretched along the western front. Those were trench lines with pins representing their battalions.

The woman shrugged nonchalantly and said with a sweet smile, "Such is the cost of the unconditional surrender from the Central powers' side. They are at the verge of collapse, thus sending in more numbers is the only wise choice. Unless war is your désir d'avenir." 

"And what if we collapse earlier like the Russians?" Cleared his throat yet another gentleman. He twisted his moustache and narrowed at the girl, "They might be at their last breath, but so we are. Just what if we give in earlier, Mademoiselle la Avise?" 

The woman glared at him for an instant, but her calm expression quickly resurfaced as she spoke, "It seems to me that you do not trust our judgement? Even though our family chose to ally with the Entente. I would refrain from making us regret this choice, gentlemen."

This comment drew the whole conference room into silence. One man was tapping his foot against the floor, while the other leaned on his hand in thought. Despite that, however, all attention was still drawn to the representative of the la Avise family. It should have been a stressful exchange for those of young blood, after all every single man bore significant weight under his name, yet no sign of anxiety was present in her. 

After a while a few more whispers regarding the losses, tactics and enemy spread across the table. At first, they were calm and tried to ignore the gal, but after a while the quarrel continued in aggressive French. Some were criticising the lukewarm contribution of other parties regardless of the evidence, while others begged the woman to say something. The command was in havoc, contrasting a slight giggle coming from the woman. 

At one point, someone broke the chain of resentment by addressing the one in charge of the meeting.

"Quit smiling in the face of fear. We are in a desperate situation, but you are still annoyingly calm. Does a human life have any value to the likes of you, or you are only capable of seeing numbers, Mademoiselle la Avise?" said the man not quite in his Middle Ages, but the weight of responsibility left bags under his eyes which complimented a few white strands of hair on his head. The wrinkles or even a beard were missing on his face, establishing yet another contrast, as the majority of men gathered by the table were total opposites of this fellow. In spite of his own youthfulness, he appeared to be at least twice as old as the girl opposing him.

She narrowed her brows and tilted her head. Without blinking, she said, "As I said, the necessity in these sacrifices lies in the future prosperity. Have you not been listening?"

The man sighed like a disappointed parent and quickly replied, "You truly are stubborn… Fine, I have an idea. Recently, our men moved just slightly into German borders. Let's go there and have a look at the consequences of your bright ideas."

Even though some older men were opposing his intentions, the majority of command were tired of the prolonged conflict. Shortly after the meeting, a single Cadillac left the military facility to the east of Paris. Just like at the start of the war, this insignificant piece within the complexity of the conflict would end the pointless massacre as well as the Great War itself.