It reminded me of the Ben Elton book I recently read, The First Casualty, which was set in WWI, mostly in the trenches in France. A lot of people died in that book. They had frequently just been smoking a cigarette, for some reason.
It made me think how odd people are, that they will rush into nearly certain death voluntarily. Animals mostly don't go for that kind of thing, but in the trenches and on the fields of 2nd century China, there they were, pressing forward into guns/gas/crossbow fire/exploding fire/arrows/spears/etc. and falling over bleeding from every part of their body.
It made me think how lucky we are, that we've lived in an age that seems to have known so much peace. We're able to waste our time arguing about silly things and spending our weekends planting flowers because we're not desperately trying to find food or a place to sleep that won't get bombed overnight. There haven't been huge convulsions rocking this continent (or my home continent) for generations (not that there haven't been plenty elsewhere).
I wonder how many people appreciate the luxury we live in, the luxury of peace?
I wonder how long it will last? I can't help but think that the natural state of man is war and conquest, rape and pillage, and it's hard to believe that my life will end without another war devastating America and Europe.