The snakes had appeared near the tent by chance. That day, the soldier was digging a trench at the edge of the camp when he noticed two small snakes slithering out from beneath the sun-warmed stones.
They were thin and still hesitant, lifting their heads and hissing at every sound. According to instructions, they were to be eliminated immediately. The commander had said, “Danger near personnel — eliminate without discussion.”
But the young man did not do it. He found it strange that the little creatures did not flee but instead seemed to watch him. That evening, he returned with a piece of bread and threw it on the ground beside the tent.
At first, the snakes backed away, then slowly approached. The next day, he brought a little meat. He was curious to see whether they were getting used to him. It was a foolish pastime during the monotonous days at the camp, a small secret that no one was supposed to know about.
Instead of eliminating the dangerous neighbors, he began to feed them. At first, the snakes were wary and raised their hoods at his every movement, but soon they stopped perceiving him as a threat. He came almost every day, crouched down, and tossed them food, watching as they cautiously approached.
He brought them bread and meat as if they were puppies. After a week, the snakes had grown noticeably, their movements more confident. After two weeks, new snakes began appearing nearby — first one, then two more. He convinced himself it was just a coincidence, simply their nest.
But one morning, as he stepped out of the tent, he was confronted with a horror for which he was absolutely unprepared 😨🫣
When he returned to the camp at dawn, silence greeted him. No voices, no footsteps of his comrades, not a single usual sound from the kitchen.
He climbed out of the trench and ran toward the tents. Inside, he found a horrifying sight — his comrades were motionless, with signs of struggle and blood everywhere. During the night, enemies had attacked a section of the camp. Everything had happened quickly and quietly.
While he had been occupied with the snakes, all his comrades had died. He should have been in that tent. He should have died with them all.
It turned out that the snakes had unintentionally saved his life. They had kept him from being at the camp that night.
Later, he was interrogated, accused of treason, investigated for any connection to the attackers, and every detail was scrutinized. His guilt could not be proven, but the shadow of suspicion remained. He was discharged and left the army for good.
