Sandbar
Whittlesea, Melbourne,
Victoria, Australia
"Look alive, everypony! Keep a sharp eye on the horizon for those monkeys when they start their offensive!"
It has been months since the humans landed on Equestria. No thanks to those Thalmann Generators, now those apes have been pushed us back into the southern continents of Australia and New Zealand and parts of Asia. Now here we are in an open field with no cover but dug-up trenches and improvised anti-tank obstacles and a large patch of no-pony's land between us and the humans. Everypony knows there was no way a battalion of Earth Ponies with only a hoof-full of Unicorns to provide anti-air and anti-tank fire will stop a human advance. Sure they gave us pony designed rifles (developed by our beloved Princess Twilight), but when most of the Unicorns are pulled back to the inner perimeters leading to the Capital the message is clear; we were just fodder to delay the enemy.
Not that it's a bad thing really. What better fate is there than to die gloriously for Harmony, Princesses and Country? Still, would it kill them to spare a few retro-fitted Party Cannons to support us? Harmony knows we could use a few of those, especially considering the time of year.
"Why are we even defending this Celestia damned position?" my buddy, Wordsmith muttered, "There's nothing here but empty space for miles without cover! We should just give it to those damned monkeys and mine the place!"
"Keep it down, Word!" I whispered. He's clearly got into his Cider early, "You're going to have the Captain eat your flank for dinner if she hears that! And I don't mean it in a good kind of way."
"You think I care, Sands," he scowled as he spat out an apple seed. They really dropped the quality of the Cider lately. "Tartarus, this whole damned war is stupid! We shouldn't have declared war on humanity to begin with!"
"What was that, Private?"
We both froze as a pink earth pony mare approached us with a stern scowl.
"Nothing, Sgt Cookie Heart!" I reported as we stood to attention, "We were just talking about home."
"Don't take me for a fool, Pvt Sandbar!" she growled, "I will not have such talk like that in this trench, do you understand me colt?"
"Yes ma'am!"
The Sergeant's expression relaxed as she leaned closer to the two of us. "I know the war isn't exactly favourable for our lot, but if you want to live as long as you possibly can, keep such sentiments to yourselves and not out of your pie-holes!" she whispered with a grunt, "It's bad enough we have the Captain breathing down on us, she also has that damned Commissar patrolling this trench 24/7!"
Our eyes widened with surprise. Sgt Heart was always a hard-ass which caught us off guard. She wasn't normally sentimental, let along sympathetic to anypony's opinion. One time, she even clobbered a fresh replacement for not properly addressing "Princess" Celestia. Then again, I never did hear her speak out her opinion of the war. She never spoke cruelly against the humans (or label them as apes or monkeys) or declare her faith to the cause, nor did she express being against the fighting. She was just, there.
"You two know how to use those guns better than the whole battalion combined! Quite the sharp shooters too!" she added, "We would be royally screwed if they take the two of you off just for not having the hots for this war!"
Well shit, I guess she's one of those types. Just trying to survive. Not that I can't sympathise.
"Besides," a ghost of a smile crept on her muzzle, "try to make the most you can out of this holiday. I know we're not exactly surrounded by friends and loved ones, but in this trench, we're the only family you've got." With that, she trailed her way across the trench.
Hearth's Warming. Every since this war started, I cannot remember the last time I celebrated this holiday with my friends and family. I was one of the first to recruit when the war broke out and spent a year and a half training before being deployed. Since then, I've not remembered celebrating the seasonal holiday, not even once. Sure, we get the occasional delivered packages and letters from home, but war left little time for such luxuries. Besides, all that celebrating can wait once the war is over. Yes, I know I said when it is over, not if we win. I'm not stupid, I can see the writing on the wall that we are losing. Still, if we fight long enough and hard enough, Harmony willing we can negotiate a white peace. After all, we are on the side of good. Even if we are defeated, good will eventually triumph, one way or another.
"I still think this war is a lost cause," Wordsmith muttered under his breath.
Ugh! Does he want the Captain to catch him? "C'mon Wordsmith! It'll all work out in the end." I said to reassure him, "Even if we die out here, we die for the cause for Harmony!"
"Harmony," he snorted a scoff, "A fine damn job we did! All we achieved is uniting every damn human against us."
"Not that sort of Harmony," I jabbed his side in a jovial manner, "I meant the kind of Harmony that united the Pony tribes together sort of Harmony! That's what it is we're fighting for!"
Wordsmith took a swing from his cider, "Did I ever tell you I was one of the ones who volunteered for the exchange program to befriend the humans?"
Wait, really? "No, you never told me that."
"Well, I was," he snapped a reply as he took another swing from his cider and spat out a seed, "I was in Germany, Nuremberg to be precise. Wonderful city, rich in so much history. And in my time there, I soaked all that history! Do you want to know what I learned there?"
I gave a shrug.
He took that as a sign to continue, "The Humans have a saying: Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it. That nation became a centerpiece of Two World Wars and suffered for it. The first time was because of rising tensions due to military build up, ignited by an assassination. The second, another military build up due to the leadership of a mad tyrant. They failed to learn from that past because they forgotten what caused it in the first place."
"I fail to see the relevance." I really did.
"My point exactly, Sandbar!" he all but dropped his bottle of cider and gripped my shoulders with his forehooves, "We are repeating the same mistake the early tribes did because we have our noses too high up our own asses to see history repeating itself!"
I looked around, hoping his outburst didn't catch everyone's attention. Too late, I thought as I noticed heads turned our way.
Wordsmith either ignored the attention or failed to notice it as he continued, "The Pony Tribes united together against the common threat of the Wendigos! Humanity? Same story, except we are the Wendigos! We are the monsters! WE STARTED THIS WAR! Why can nopony else see it?! We are repeating history, Sandbar! WE! ARE! CONDEMNED!"
"ENOUGH!"
We both turned around to see half the Battalion observing his tirade. A mix of disapproval, agreement, support, sympathy and anger were visible in their faces. Among them was Sgt Cookie Heart wearing an expression of disappointment, which was odd considering I would have thought she'd chew our heads out for ignoring her orders.
"You two are playing with fire, you know that?" she sighed with resignation in her voice, "When the ESS gets a wind of what's happening here, just know I told you so... What's that noise?"
All our ears perked to listen. It was... Singing. Who would be singing in the battlefield? All eyes turned to the direction of the song with surprise; the enemy trenches.
"Damned monkeys! What have they got to sing about?" a random fellow soldier (whose name I forgot) spat out.
Wordsmith's eyes lit up in recognition, "Wait, I know that tune." He took a peek over the trench and immediately lowered his head, a melancholic smile forming over him. "I knew it. The madmen are actually doing it!" he chocked out a laugh.
"What they hay are you talking about, Wordsmith?" Sgt Heart ordered.
"Take a long listen, Sergeant." came his reply in a low tone.
For a long while we listened. The tune, it felt familiar. The likes that I've not heard for five years; carolling. But I thought Humans don't celebrate Hearth's Warming. Why would they be carolling, in a battlefield no less? True, they're on the other side of the field in their own trenches and dugouts, but a battlefield nonetheless. I saw Wordsmith closing his eyes, smiling with content as he listened and hummed the tune. He hummed the tune. He hummed a Human tune. Such an action could get you executed for going against Harmony and the Princesses. I looked around to the rest of our battalion and noticed a shift of behaviour; melancholy. All around, the troops were lowering their heads in sadness, loneliness, homesickness and nostalgia. Some of us even started sobbing. I turned to Sgt Cookie Heart and saw tears welling in her eyes with the look of longing for happier times.
🎵Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.
Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!🎵
Wordsmith for his part was now singing in line with whatever the song was in common ponish. The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. Its tune burned into my ears. A call for longing deep within my soul cried as I listened to this song by the Humans. These humans, said to be chaotic in nature, preached to be beings without harmony; are singing a song reminiscent to the carols of Hearth's Warming, the defining symbol of unity and harmony among ponykind. And they are singing it here in a battlefield while we wait for them in silence.
I felt warm water on my face, realising it was my tears when I held out a hoof to wipe it off. When did I start crying? For that matter, why am I crying? Was it because they were celebrating while we are suffering out here in the cold? Was this jealousy? No. It had nothing to do with them. I was just sad. Sad for happier times. Sad that I can't celebrate this season's holiday with my friends and family. Sad that I never got the chance to celebrate Hearth's Warming for Five long years. Sad that for all these years fighting for the cause for Harmony, there in the enemy's side; they are singing in harmony.
"I can't bucking take it anymore!!"
My thoughts broke as I turned to see Sgt Cookie Heart openly wailed in tears.
"I miss my home! I miss my dad! I miss his Cookies! I miss singing Hearth's Warming Carols with him! I miss Hearth's Warming!!!"
Our jaws dropped as we watch her make for the ladder out the trench and climb out into No-Pony's Land, crying as she did.
"Sergeant, wait!" I called out, "They'll kill you!"
"Let them kill me! Buck the captain! Buck the commissar! Buck Celestia and Buck this stupid war! If this is going to be my last Hearth's Warming, I want in on it!!"
I don't know what possessed me to go after her, but I ended up chasing her into No-Pony's Land. As I did, I noticed that the singing stopped and saw movement along the enemy lines. Fearing that they'll start shooting at us, I ducked down, refusing to look up to see the Sergeant's demise.
I waited. No shots were heard. Instead I could hear a lone voice not far from me. A singing voice. It echoed across the field with sweetness and sorrow. It sang with reckless abandon and desperation to be heard. I recognise the song. It was "Bring me the Spirit of Harmony." A popular, albeit melancholic Hearth's Warming carol about a young foal in a broken home.
I looked up to see her kneeling on her hindlegs, head held high, tears streaming from her face, and singing her heart out across the battlefield. Her voice sang with passion as it tug into my heart as I listened. In all my years under her command, I had no idea the sergeant was quite the singer. Then I remembered her Cutie Mark was a speech bubble with an exclamation mark, symbolising her talent for her voice. Be it singing or screaming at recruits, she had an impressive set of lungs.
🎶Bring me the Spirit of Harmony!
Take me to the special place of the way things used to be!
Bring me the Spirit of Harmony!
It's the only gift that matters to me!🎶
As the sergeant finished her song, her body slumped exhausted and panting to catch breath. Her breaths were seen from the fog that came out of her. I could still hear her sobbing as she hung her head low. The field became silent apart from her sobbing. Steeling myself (and hoping not to get shot at) I slowly trotted next to her, to give her a comforting hug. My earlier feelings of sorrow soon caught up to me as I joined the sounds of crying in the silence.
The silence was shortly broken by a cacophony of cheering, whistling and applauding. Voices screamed, "Bravo!" "Encore!" and even a "I love you random pony!" among them. We turned to see our enemies, the Humans, were now out of their trenches and dugouts and stood not far from us, giving her a standing ovation.
I was taken aback by their enthusiasm. We were told from the disaster that was Princess Twilight's Tour of Friendship across the world that Humanity wouldn't accept anything of Pony Culture. Yet here they are; cheering at her song like it was a concert from Sapphire Shores.
As the cheering stopped, one of the humans stepped forward, crouched low to our level and held out a hand with the goofiest smile I've ever seen on a human. "Good evening Ponies." He had quite an accent that sounded central European.(Yes, I can tell from the accent. Fight in this war long enough and you too would know the difference.)
At first I hesitated. He was the enemy. He was Human. He embodied everything that goes against Harmony. Yet as I thought more of it, he laid down his weapons. They all did. And he extended a hand of Friendship to us. If I, a true believer of Harmony deny this man, this human, Friendship when he offers his, then what does that make me?
I gave the most genuine smile I could form and offered my hoof to shake his hand. "Good evening humans. Nice night for Hearth's Warming, isn't it?"
"Is that what we're calling it now?" he mocked ignorance (in good nature of course) as he shook my hoof, "To that I say my good little ponies, Fröhliche Weihnachten!"
"A Merry Christmas to you too then."
I turned to see Wordsmith and the entire battalion approach us, all unarmed it seemed. Contrary to Wordsmith's ghost of a smile, the rest of them looked dishevelled, miserable, embarrassed and melancholic. I even thought I saw our battalion's Captain, Saber Wing (which is an odd name considering she's a unicorn, not a pegasus) looking embarrassed to be there.
"Wordsmith, guys, why are you all here?" I asked.
Wordsmith gave a smirk, "Well, after Sgt Cookie Heart sang her... well... heart out, I persuaded the Captain not to have you two Court Martialled in this fine Hearth's Warming eve. We also agreed to spike the commissar's drink, so she'll be out til morning without reporting our "fraternising". And after being sick of cheap Cider and half-baked pudding (which is clearly more saw-dust than wheat flour), we thought maybe we could all just come out here and have a chat with these fine folk and ask them how they plan to kill us."
We gave a look of alarm at his last comment while he trotted past me and Sgt Cookie Heart towards the humans.
"So what will it be, humans?" his voice exuded smugness that somehow seemed more directly at us than them, "Drown us in alcohol or blast our brains with your carolling?"
The human gave a mischievous grin, "We can do you one better; how about be smash you all with a party?"
Our eyes widened at the banter and their proposals. A Party? Here? In a middle of a Battlefield? In the middle of a war?
Before we could process even further, the human Wordsmith was addressing called out to his fellow soldiers, "How about it, Comrades? What say we bury these ponies with some good old Christmas cheer?"
Cheering erupted among the humans. One of them called out, "Will that be alright Major?"
Another human with a clear local Australian accent snorted with a grin, "Why the fuck not? Let's make some serious historical shit right here!" Their Major, clearly looks like the type to bend the rules, started barking orders, "Corporals, bring out the beers and grub! Sergeant Beethoven, get the chaplain! You, grab the DJ and her weird collection of Vinyl records! The rest of you, grab some tables and shit! Well, what are you c#nts standing around here for? We're not here to fuck spiders!! Move it!"
As the humans moved to carry out their orders, the Major and the German Private stayed behind. Scratch that, among the ranks, there were actually a few ponies among them.
"You lot, why don't you come in our turf?" the Major gestured to follow him, "Not exactly ideal bein' out here in the open, it's the quickest way to get buggered."
All of us were reluctant at first. Then Wordsmith stepped forward, followed by Sgt Cookie Heart, and the rest of us followed.
"I'm Private Wordsmith by the way," he held out a hoof to the German Private.
The human smiled and shook his hoof as they continued forward to the enemy lines, "Eric, Private Eric Herrmann. I'm from Nuremburg, Germany."
Wordsmith raised an eyebrow, "Wait, Herrmann? You wouldn't happen to be related to a Bianca Herrmann in Nuremburg, would you?"
Eric had a look of surprise, "Curly blond hair, blue eyes, wears glasses and has a weird laugh?"
"You do know her!" Wordsmith gleamed with a wide smile.
"She's my cousin," Eric smiled fondly, "Always the linguist. Said she wanted to travel the world to learn every language out there. Last I've heard of her was a month ago in the Philippines, helping out a refugee camp with one of your kind." Eric noticed Wordsmith as he gave out a sigh of relief, "How'd you know her?"
"I met her while I was part of the exchange program in Nuremburg," Wordsmith reminisced at the memory, "She showed me your nation's history, the good and the bad, introduced me to the duality of man. Very Catholic! And I mean very! Tried to convert me on the spot when we talked about religion."
"Did she succeed?" Eric smirked.
Wordsmith returned with a smirk of his own, "Eeynope! But she did give me her bible as a parting gift, which mind you was a good read. Too bad it was burned when Princess Celestia ordered all Human literature, film and other media to be part of a massive bonfire." Wordsmith grimaced at those words, "Made me remember a certain event in you country's history and immediately noticed the pattern. I dodged whatever is happening there now when I was conscripted."
The two continued to exchange stories as we made our way across the frosty fields of No-Pony's land.
When we arrived to their side of the field, we were greeted with drinks, food and music. So much music. Some of the ponies who were siding with the humans approached us and asked what was happening to Equestria. Some of them we recognised, most of which we presumed dead (such as a certain mute unicorn DJ), most we've never seen before.
Many of the humans told us their stories of how they survived various battles and massacres from every part of the world. Most admitted their dislike (to borderline hatred) of ponies but tolerated those among their ranks for convivence. Others were indifferent, stating it was all part of the job or they were just serving their respective countries. Then there are those like the Major and Eric who shared enlightening experiences with us ponies.
For instance, Eric was apparently in South America with five of his friends for vacation (all of which are serving in their battalion). When the war broke out, they were smuggled out by an unicorn guard who defected with them. They said they lost him when an overzealous mob attacked him while they were on their way to an embassy at California.
Major Jeremy "Jazza" Callum on the other hoof was here fighting for his home when they were called to evacuate the continent. Lost his wife, Father, all his brothers, their wives and children when the magical barrier reached them before they could escape. He hated us ponies for three years in this war until he was rescued by what he described to be a blue angel with a face of a horse after surviving a close encounter with a mana grenade. Apparently, they got along well since then and even planned to propose to her once the war was over.
All the while, Wordsmith continued to share his experience with humanity to everyone who would hear his story. He often told me that his dream was to tell tales of great deeds from history. Apparently, he volunteered to see humanity's history due to his fascination for being the most ponylike beings he's ever heard of. A fallacy for many now but at the time, one could see that point considering their architecture, names of places and even wordplay (his words, not mine).
For Sgt Cookie Heart's part, no big surprise but she hated the war. She joined the fighting just to avoid the ESS two years ago when her dad (her only living relative left) spoke against the Princesses for losing his bakery business to the monthly tithes. Last she heard of him was that he hung himself just a week after she was deployed and has since then been just trying to survive through to the end.
As we continued to share stories together, the party in the battlefield took a sad turn when the DJ played a record of a Swedish Metal band, catching everyone's attention. Many of the humans (and a few ponies familiar with the song) started singing along with contagious enthusiasm while the rest of us just listened to the tune.
I caught Wordsmith was smiling all the way, tears welling he muttered, "This... This here is a piece of history worth repeating."
At first, I didn't catch the tune or the lyrics due to me conversing with one of the pony's who collaborated with the humans (I didn't get to catch her name, just that she came from Trottingham) until she shushed me as she joined in the singing;
🎶Madness.
Oh I remember the sadness.
We were hiding our tears,
In a foreign land where we faced our fears!
We were Soldiers, Carried the war on our shoulders!
For our Nations,
Is that why we bury our Friends?
We are all. We are all. We are all.
WE ARE ALL FRIENDS!!
And today we're all Brothers, Tonight we're all friends.
A moment of Peace in a war that never ends!
Today we're all Brothers, We drink and Unite!
Now Christmas has arrived and the snow turns the ground white.
Hear Carols from the Trenches, We sing O Holy Night,
Our guns made to rest among Snowflakes!
A Christmas in the Trenches
A Christmas on the Front, Far from Home!🎶
I looked around me and saw an outpour of grief as I heard these words. Ponies. Humans. All of us wept as the song progressed. Me, Wordsmith, Eric, Sgt Cookie Heart, Major Callum, even Captain Saber Wing. We all sang in sorrow together:
🎶And today we're all Brothers, Tonight we're all friends.
A moment of Peace in a war that never ends!
Today we're all Brothers, We drink and Unite!
Now Christmas has arrived and the snow turns the ground white.
A Christmas in the Frontline, We walk among our Friends!
We don't think about tomorrow,
The Battle will commence!
When we Celebrated Christmas,
We thought about our Friends,
Those who never made it home,
When the Battle had Commenced!🎶
Pvt Sandbar and most of the 105th Earth Pony Battalion returned to their trenches after that night. Pvt Wordsmith, Sgt Cookie Heart and a few others stayed and surrendered to the 227th Light Infantry of the United Nation's Australian Expeditionary Force and were reported by Captain Saber Wing as KIA.
The offensive of the Expeditionary Force followed two days later. Pvt Sandbar and the rest of the 105th EPB held their ground for three hours before surrendering after their Commissar and 2/3 of the Battalion were killed.
Sandbar lived on after the war, condemning all the decisions done by the Princesses and the Bearer of Elements of Harmony (save Fluttershy) for what he wrote in his Memoire, "The Death of Harmony." He also Co-written a book with Wordsmith and several others titled, "The Last Hearth's Warming," detailing the events that very night, along with many other accounts that happened across the Frontline.
It was New Equestria's best selling book for over three years.