End of days 5

Whatever’s said about God’s all-conquering army, discipline is not a strong point. Our charge is as chaotic as ever. The enthusiastic flyers blaze a trail ahead but leave us without air cover and I’ve no idea where they are now. The left flank peel off to re-take the industrial estates and are fully engaged, judging by the explosions in the distance. The rest of us thunder down to the railway and are forcing our haphazard way into the city through a forest of twisted metal.

It’s all my fault – I’m a history teacher, not a general. I don’t know why I’m here but they still look to me because of the sword.

We’re close to home now – I can see your station up ahead, except it’s a smoking ruin like everything else and overrun by pit devils. Do you remember sitting in the café there, drinking mugs of tea and reading the papers together? It’ll be a hard task gaining that ground but we have to keep pressing our advantage.

The skyline we once called our own is broken and desolate, the trees are scorched and the air noisome. I can sense the darkness ahead and thick mists are descending.