The Unwavering Flower

Canon de 120mm begins to roar. The cannons will relieve pressure on the frontline and pave the way for a French assault on German positions a few kilometers north by northeast of Verdun. The Germans have entrenched themselves deeply over there, but the French are optimistic that one bold move will drive Hindenburg all the way to Munich. So thinks Marlow as the captain yells at him to prepare. Morale is high in the trenches; everyone knows that victory is inevitable and that nothing can halt the French advance. "Vive la France!" Marlow shouts with all his heart alongside his comrades. Ladders are placed at the edge of the trenches. Marlow ascends and confronts the open field, which is muddy and strewn with barbed wire.

Marlow was 17 when he was conscripted into the French army. He had worked at a family-owned flower shop ran by his family for generations. At the start of the war, Marlow chose to stay home and continue his work as a florist; being a soldier was not his calling. He watched as his friends, family, and those around him flocked to the conscription en masse. Those who remained continuously berated Marlow, calling him pathetic, unpatriotic, selfish, and a weakling for not joining the army. He owed it to his homeland, they said, and in its time of need, Marlow chose to sell flowers? "Who will buy flowers, boy? The corpses of your countrymen?" Marlow tended to the tulip before him. "People die, but flowers endure." "You're a disgrace to this town, especially to your family."

Marlow's father, also a florist, went to China to fight in the Boxer Rebellion. His grandfather, the founder of the flower shop, fought in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. Marlow's refusal to join the fight brought great shame to his family's legacy, according to his father. Wounded in the rebellion of 1899, his father cannot go anywhere without assistance. His daily routine involves waking up and relying on Marlow's help to get to the shop. He then sits in his chair, overseeing the shop. Occasionally, his friends visit and they have a chat. Nowadays, they are disgusted, wondering why his mature son is not joining the French brigade. Marlow's father listens and agonizes.

Marlow read about pacifism from a book someone mistakenly left at the flowershop. Marlow did not attend school, but went to church to learn language, since a florist is responsible for recordkeeping. The book made a lasting impression on Marlow. It discussed the political games influential people play to start wars between countries. War is what immature individuals do, sacrificing millions in the name of their petty glory. Of course, they cannot simply name it as their glory, so they define it in the name of king, country, or religion! Simple-minded folk will do anything for king, country, or religion. The book urges humanity to break free from this madness. The only thing humans should adhere to is beauty, the book says. Beauty and art are immortal. The countless lives lost in war will be forgotten in a few centuries, but people's impression of beauty is everlasting. It is a gift bestowed upon mankind by God. Marlow has lost the book and forgotten the name of the author. The words now feel like a fever dream from the past.

Marlow would have never joined the war until his mother came to him and started crying. "Leave this house, now! You're a disgrace! I could have never raised such a weakling! You are not my son!" Marlow can tolerate everything; he can tolerate a thousand verbal assaults from hundreds of random people. But he cannot bear to see his mother crying. Marlow pledged to uphold his mother's honor and went ahead to get the conscription form.

Before departing for training, Marlow went to meet Sophia. Sophia had always been a good friend to Marlow. Perhaps Marlow thought a little bit more about this friendship, but nobody knows what Sophia thought. Sophia also helps in the flower shop when Marlow or his father is not around. Marlow went to remind her that this will now be a full-time job. The conversation was short. Sophia simply asked, "Will you return?" Marlow replied, "Keep my flowers lively."

Verdun is an open field of lashes. They say there used to be a huge tulip garden here, stretching for miles. Now it is a barren, muddy land filled with mines and barbed wire. The French artillery is relentless; the sound is deafening. Marlow cannot hear anything except for that relentless boom as he charges with ten thousand people. They run, crawl, and climb their way through the ditches, filled with mosquito-infested water and rotting corpses.

The French artillery relentlessly bombards the German line, while the Germans have nothing to match the firepower except Fritz Haber. "Gas, gas, gas!" yells the man standing three feet away from Marlow. Marlow sees a green haze slowly approaching the charging troops. As soon as the haze reaches the front lines, the soldiers begin to vomit. Chaos ensues and everyone starts running backward. For some reason, Marlow hesitates for a second before turning, but then someone grabs his leg. Marlow turns and sees a man with blood coming out of his eyes. Marlow picks him up and starts running back towards the trenches as the haze creeps all around him. He feels himself getting weaker and starts to feel nauseous. After a few seconds, he stumbles and falls, causing the man on his back to fall in front of him. Marlow vomits. He tries to gather enough strength to lift the person again, but he can't. Marlow attempts to grab the person's shirt and drag him forward. As he pulls, the shirt's pocket ruptures, and a white tulip falls out, slowly tumbling down into the mud. Marlow freezes. The haze has thickened to the point where he can no longer hear the 10,000 souls around him. He picks up the flower and plants it upright in the mud. The tulip remains unweathered within this cloud of chlorine.

Sophia places a tulip on Marlow's epitaph, which reads, "Here lies Marlow, the unwavering flower." Tulips now surround him and the 300,000 souls who will lie with him for eternity on the field of Verdun.