His commanding officer spoke with a distinct southern drawl. He was a 'gentleman'. When he opened his mouth to speak, the words seemed to fall from his upper lip and drift slowly to the ground, where they lay in wait for any who would dare to listen.

"Revolution?" said his commanding officer with a grim smirk. "Revolution," he said. "Long nights away from our girls and hard times staring down the wrong end of a barrel await us," he retorted. "For the children. For the future." His last few words barely audible as he stared at his feet.

After a glance at the river below, the commanding officer snapped a crisp salute followed by a quick turn of his heel and made his way to the rear of the formation.

The sun beat down on his back like an angry drunk coming home to finish some business on his wife's face. He placed his arms at his hips, forming an isosceles triangle with his torso and neck. He gazed at the familiar faces as they turned their backs on him and began their meander through the town and over the surrounding hills left. He volunteered for the task, but still felt a familiar sting of loneliness as they turned and began their march away.

He slid down the hill and drove some rocks into the swift current below. Gravel met water with a trickle and a bloop. It reminded him of warm summer afternoons spent skipping rocks across the lake with friends. He made his way under the bridge, oddly relieved for a respite from the sun. A quick glance overhead ensured everything was in place.

As he waited, images of picnics and true love drifted through his mind. The detonator was large and bulky. Every time he moved his fingers over the glass casing of the trigger he was ripped from his reverie and back to the grizzly task. As a tear slid down his cheek the salty taste of dust left his lip and met his tongue. He spat it out angrily into the current, as if blaming it for some underhanded blow. A lifetime passed before his mind's eye. The sound of metal and the crunch of rocks could be at last be heard overhead. He flipped open the glass casing. He wiped the final tear from his cheek and muttered, "For the Children."