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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2149918
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2149918
A commander stands before his men and delivers a rousing speech. 300 words.
The man in the green jacket stood on a grassy field, prepared as well as he could for battle. The young men stood in rows before him, eyes transfixed on their commander, not knowing what was in store. He drew in a breath of cold November air and began his speech:

“Today, we stand on the very precipice of our future! Wars are not won until the weak are removed from the battlefield, and today gentlemen, we shall not falter! We are descendants of kings and conquerors, who carved society from the ashes of their enemies! We put men on the moon and traversed the seas and continents using only the stars as our guide. WE ARE MEN!”

He paused for effect and made eye contact with each squad member. Hoping to see the fear wash away from their faces as well as their hearts. He continued his monologue, this time quickening the pace and raising his voice:

“Remember, lock down the line! If you find yourself standing in a green pasture, with the sun beaming on your face, remember that you are only dead! And that you’ve died with honor! The Rebels may bring the very beasts of hell to our door step, and we shall let none of them pass, because we are TROJANS!”

Coach Peters raised one arm above his head in a salute of solidarity. It was the championship game of the Greenfield City, Pee-Wee Football League, and today the Trojans were hosting the visiting Rebels from Canton.

The eight and nine year-old boys stood motionless, mouths open and unblinking. Several were teary eyed; Tommy Harris had one finger stuck inside of his nose as if he had forgotten he was mining for gold. The Coach suddenly decided this would be his last year coaching football.
© Copyright 2018 J.E. Allen (j.e.allen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2149918