We were surrounded in the weathering halls, hordes of enemies around us, rifles with no ammo, Howitzer shells with no howitzers, we were finished. The war was lost. Then, someone started playing the accordion, a dreary tune but it helped the troops nonetheless, after hearing the accordion run off into the distance, about 20 men followed, some of us were gunned down immediately, but the accordion player was not. He was crouched under a sand bag, the fallen all around him, the wounded crying for help, Seargents barking orders, yet he stayed on his tune. He kept playing under intense fire and gathered another wave, we took the town back, but the price was heavy. Even heavier however, was the tune of that accordion that so many died to follow...