we were indeed young and we played games of war.   one night we simply smiled- symbol of our misplaced courage on hearing about an impending enemy attack.   but war is not a game. the enemy is paid to kill.   and once, in the small hours of morning, the stir we were making as we readied breakfast all of a sudden was thrown aside by deafening gunshots.   they made us turn pale, tremble, putting our resolve to test.   louder still than the pursuing footfalls was the pounding in our breasts.   must we lose heart and give up the noble cause for which we vowed to fight? learn from the reality of war, from the correct way of revolutionary struggle!   (E.P.)