As a child playing hide and seek, Rhine never could have known.
That one day the prize at stake would be a life, his very own.
You need a spot, a hidden spot, quickly it must be found.
It must be perfect, it must be right, the hunters will be around.
They have arrived; they know you’re close, because they can smell your fear.
Don’t make a noise, don’t you dare breathe, for they will surely hear.
But you must breathe, and so you inhale the slowest breath you’ll ever take.
Breathe in deep and slowly let go, because the silence mustn’t break.
So long ago, you played this game, some fun to pass the day.
Not knowing that, this very day, death is hunting you, so pray.
They are at the door, your spot is found, their moans convey their hate.
For Rhine’s small squad, five men in all, death was at the gate.
The door caves in, splintered wood and nails, there is no place else to hide.
Rifle muzzles flash, the message is clear, “Sorry Zack, we won’t abide”.