The War’s Starlight

By Louie Andrei Jamito

Death. All I heard was death. But how can one hear death?
I heard it like a train moving furiously in its tracks. The bullet whizzed past my left ear
and hit the meant-to-be king, Archduke Franz Ferdinand was dead. Today was supposed to be a
peaceful day, a day where the two great imperialists, the Allies and the Central Powers would
meet and no war was supposed to be ignited. The crowd that met the Archduke erupted in a
panic. Screams and yells bellowed simultaneously as we all saw Franz Ferdinand drop dead in
front of us.
“Look out!” I heard someone yell to my right. I ducked down immediately and ran out of
the rowdy, chaotic crowd. I pushed and pulled through the fur coats and scarves that enveloped
me until I made it to the fringe of the panicking pack of people. My heart beat furiously as I ran
down the stone-cobbled street towards my home. Nothing was ever going to be the same.
Two months after the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand a letter arrived at my
door. It was from Julien, my friend. He left a month ago to fight at the war front. I was surprised
that he named the letter “The Lost Generation.”
Dear Nico,
I hope you are doing well.
Life here in the war front is less than tolerable. I live in a trench now; can you believe it?
It’s a hole dug in the ground so we don’t get hit by the enemy’s bullets and there are
barbed wires surrounding the trenches to protect us. I’m telling you Nico, it’s not a nice
place to be in. It’s all because someone decided to kill the Archduke! It’s because of that
the war has worsened! Here in the trenches we call this a “Great War” now. As if there’s
anything great about this war! Three moons ago someone decided to crawl through No
Man’s Land. Do you know what the No Man’s Land is? It’s a place between us and the
enemy that stretches for miles and it’s an open space so there’s no protection. So, my
friend, along with six other soldiers, crawled through No Man’s Land to gain an
advantage against the enemy. Each one of them returned dead! Today I’m assigned to
medical duty and I met this soldier named John. He was in so much pain. People who
stay in the trenches often get sick with gingivitis, trench fever, and what we call trench
mouth. Oh, it really is horrible Nico! I wish I was back there, where we would play the
piano and the flute together. You know I had a dream to become a famous musician. I
just don’t know what will happen to me after this. I think I’m losing my purpose and my
ambition. Seeing all these deaths make me numb, Nico. You’re the only person that keeps
me sane. I hope to see you again.
-Julien
 My ears were full of tears as I reached the end of Julien’s letter. And I saw red. Fury
overwhelmed the very core of my nerves. My hair stood to attention as my tears dripped down to
my chin and stained my clear, white shirt. It was because of the ambition of two great powers that
this war started. It was the death of Archduke Franz Ferdinand that ignited the already tensed two
opposing political forces. My hatred was directed at both the Central Powers and the Allied Forces.
The two great alliances had the will to dominate each other and I hated it. I hated that my friend
Julien had to suffer.
My mind resonated with his. Who will I be after this war is over? So much has changed. I
can’t walk down the street without running hastily back home for fear of getting hit with a stray
bullet. Am I part of this “Lost Generation?” What has become of me? As I look at the letter, I
realized that I have changed, and not entirely for the better.
As tears dwelled in my eyes I caught the last sentence of the letter that Julien sent me. My
heartbeat escalated as I engulfed in his words. “You’re the only one that keeps me sane,” I heard
him in my head. I blinked and reality set on me. Julien might die. And that thought weighed heavily
on my soul. I crumpled towards the ground and clutched the letter to my heart. The thought of not
seeing him again brought a wave of grief through me. Seeing Julien’s face contorted in pain was
the last thing I saw before unconsciousness claimed me.
I woke up to the soft, mellow voice of someone waking me up. A gentle nudge on my left
arm, a soft poke on my right. Their voices became clearer as time passed.
“Zer Nico, wake up,” she said.
I slowly opened my eyes and stared at my surroundings. I was on my bed, covered with my maroon
duvet. Maria, the nurse, was tending to my arm which had a red mark, probably from my fall.
“What happened?” I asked her.
“T’was the scariest thing zer! I zaw ze on the floor and I thought ze was dead!” she replied.
“Thank you, Maria. So, what news of the war?”
“T’was most pitiful zer. The people in ze chapel are going crazy! Ze talked about how zey was
rich and powerful and how zey were in control.”
I too felt that way. I often wished that the war was over and that I would be dancing with
Julien in a lavish ball. We would get whisked away with the alcohol and we would walk down the
beautiful garden paths together. But I shook myself from that dream. It would be considered as
decadence on my part. I often thought of my past too. I thought of how my life would be if this
war never started. But that too was shattered as the bang of the door took me back to reality.

Finally, on the year 1919, the 28th day of June, the Treaty of Versailles was signed and
the war was over. I haven’t heard from Julien ever since his last letter and I have come to accept
that I’ll probably never see him again. I coped with me being part of the “Lost Generation” by
being even better in what I was good in. I immersed myself in music, learning the piano and
mastering the flute.
I slumped on my seat in Vienna Central Station. I was off to France for a meeting with an
acquaintance of mine who wanted me to play his arrangement at a concert in Paris. Even after a
year, the sadness of Julien’s disappearance and the disappointment to the aftermath of the war.
The conductor announced that the train to Paris was now boarding. I walked slowly, my
steps dragging. I went on this trip so that I could have the opportunity to stop sulking. I
straightened my back and walked towards the train with as much energy I could muster.
The train ride took 12 long hours. I read T.S. Elliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred
Prufrock and related myself to it. I was like that now, I couldn’t name the one I loved because it
hurt too much to remember. The name that lingered from my lips when I woke up from a bad
dream, the name that hovered over me as I walked to the music school. It was that name that
haunted me all throughout my train ride ---- Julien. The hurt took part of me and I shuddered as I
uttered his name in the loud silence that enveloped me. The train had already stopped and we
were now in Paris, in the Gare du Nord train station.
I stepped out of the train soberly after that episode. I had been to Paris before, so I knew
the way to my friend’s house. I walked silently, with my head down not really paying attention
to my surroundings. I was so engulfed in pain that I did not notice the people moving away from
me, creating a path that I could easily follow.
Then I saw him. He was standing tall and dapper in his white sailor suit. His skin lit in
the dim sunlight of the fading afternoon. It had been so long since I had last seen that smile, the
straight white teeth that accompanied it. And then it hit me – the sweet, song that reached my
ears. He was singing to me, and at last he said my name – Nico.
“Julien!” I yelled. I ran towards him as fast as I could, nearly tripping on my own two feet. The
sweet relief that washed through me was both unnerving and electrifying. He smiled widely as I
approached him, opening his arms wide for me, anticipating my embrace. I collided with his firm
body and smelt his intoxicating smell as I wrapped my arms around him. Tears found themselves
trailing down my eyes as I cherished the feeling of his body closed to mine.
“I missed you Nico, more than you know,” he whispered in my ear. And I held him even tighter
as I sobbed into his neck. He held my face gently as he looked at me in the eyes.
“Now you know, that all this time, I loved you from the very beginning.” I felt his breath wash
over me before his lips collided gently with mine. And finally, I could say that I am no longer
lost, I am no longer part of this “Lost Generation” for I had found the one thing that my heart
was longing for – love.