Congratulations WBGhiro. Btw, I'm interested to know what he picked, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to.
Also, here's how I finished the journal in case someone would like to have a read. I took a little different approach to the commander's sudden loss of passion for war.
...my sudden desire for cross-dressing. It must’ve been because of that dream the other night: the one where I was hopping through these fields filled with flowers like a school girl, as the sun caressed my rose-red cheeks. It was nothing like this god forsaken hell I’m stuck in now, in this reality. I wish I could just fall back asleep and visit that mellow field in my dreams just one more time, but I can’t. For some reason sleep evades me now, completely. But even that small taste had me hooked… I no longer care about this war. I’m horrified to see all these bodies around me everywhere I look. All the blood… all the hatred. And for what? For gold? I’m disgusted. I want to fly away, to leave this plane. Yet I’m stuck here, without option to leave.
Since I can no longer get sleep, dresses are the only things that give me hope. They remind me of that dream… my last dream. My most beautiful dream. The only one I ever loved. If only for a split second, I get to be that little girl once more whenever I put on my pink, silky evening gown. It warms my heart. The softness of the fabric feels so natural, so…right. A single touch is enough to seal me away from all the horrible noises outside, the explosions, the cries of men. As I twirl around in it, I can feel the sunshine again, and imagine the sky being blue, even when it’s raining ashes.
But I still can’t understand all of this. Why did this happen to me now? The night before the crucial phase in our attack? Had I dreamt about what I usually dreamed of, such as the recurring nightmares of pillaging and rape, everything would’ve been fine. I would’ve once again woken up as the empty, cold shell I believed myself to be. I could’ve lead my troops to victory with ease, and slain my enemies in cold-blood. But that dream changed everything. Am I a human after all? Am I not meant to do other people harm? Did God do this? I’m certain I can never hold a sword in my hand after what has happened. Not even when it could save my own life. But I still cannot abandon my troops. Without a leader they don’t stand a chance. And I don’t want their blood on my hands. I can’t live with that idea.
Oh Lord, please guide me. Tell me what to do. I want all of this to just stop, but I don’t know how to do it. No-one should have to die anymore. We should all be able to wear dresses and play in the fields, in complete harmony and peace. Should I be an example? Would I be heard, and could I turn the tides? For better or worse, I have to try. I’m needed in the field, and I need the field too. More than ever.
