So there stood the general with his army at the foot of the hill. Memories of a past glory in battle which was fought gallantly and won. Having returned to reclaim the land for a second time, his tired troops look up at the steep hill and frown. For it's not an easy task to climb and fight and then stand at its peak victorious, then do it all again.
Their foes, they are more prepared this time. The element of surprise, no longer a factor.
"Onwards we shall charge", the general commands.
Dissent in the ranks.
"Onwards? Charge? Again? Why can't we just go around the hill? Then come up the other way and surprise them? Fight from the top and push them back down", say the tired troops.
"We don't have enough men to do that", some say to each other.
"We don't have the right type of men", some dare to whisper.
"Onwards!" Screams the general.
"This just about worked last time, we've been stuck at the foot of the hill all year, it's too late. We should have attempted something different from the offset. They can see us coming", say the tired troops, dismissing their generals strategic know-how.
"Onwards! Let us claim what we deserve!" The general commands as he begins to lead his men forward on horseback.
And onwards they march, for they are soldiers and they obey their orders.
Once more. Running up that hill, battle cry from all.
And if they were to be pushed back once more by the barbaric hordes that await them then surely the general will admit defeat and return to the foot of the hill and await for reinforcements from the emperor. And then perhaps another tact will have to be embraced to once more reclaim the land and plant the flag of victory in it's peak.
The hill will always be there. The fight will always be a tough one. And if it's been done before, it can be done again. Perhaps next time, by taking no prisoners.
Onwards.
