A look in past events through the eyes of a child is like read a faery tale. Things what seemed fantasy could often proven truth...

*****

    The sky were clear, devoit of clouds, the unfiltered sunlights littered the surface and supported the growth of the lewd meadow's countless plants. The vegetation slowly covered and hidden the scars of the surface, erosion of rainfall degraded the craters to mild, circular valleys. The landscape suggested eternal tranquility and natural joy for whoever may looked upon it.
    Four children ran through the meadow laughing, playing some kind of tag, their careless voice soared up to the gently warm springtime sky. Their generation borned into a more peacefull world, grown upon the nightmare tales of the not-so-far past. The metallic giants scorched worlds and brought billions of tears were merely fantasy creatures for them, evil j�t�ns from the tales of Thor and the Aesir-gods.
    One of them, a girl around her eigth, led the small pack of children. She promised them a real giant! A slumbering creation of the evening tales! Of course the other children wanted to see that. They wanted to see what they so far considered as myth, legend, creature from a twisted, faraway Never-never Land.
    'But I am so tired!' squeaked a five year old boy. 'We ran through that meadow all way! You just want us to fall asleep from tiredness! No giant you found!'
    The other two children nodded. They were fatigued to. But their childman's heart wanted to know: Is there trully a giant?
    'The dead giant is true, Tim!' replied the girl with a mirk face and shaken her finger toward the others. 'I saw it! It lay behind just the rocks over there!'
    The "Rocks". Their parents always warned them never got close to the "Rocks"! It were dangerous they said. You can fall into a deep hole, they said...
    But curiosity prevailed over their parents' warnings and the children continue their journey reinvigourated. They suddenly forgot how tired were they. The "giant" were so close, said Autumn to them. Just behind the rocks! Just right there! What another half hour of childish dash..?
    Autumn, the oldest among them, lead them to a boulder. It were a rope fixed to it tightly and safely left there by the brave girl who dared to bother the slumber of the old giants. The others, with growing worry in their eyes, followed her one-by-one down the rope...
    Down into a valley slept hidden by the tilted rocks over it.
    Mouths left open, eyes widen as children saw the tales come true! In the valley there were a few, huge, metal giants clearly defeated in fierce combat. It were, albeit they not fully realised that, a graveyard of a last stand, a memento of stubborn albeit desperate resistance against the inevitable. Something only their grandparents may remembered from a time everyone spit like poison when named it: Jihad.
    The three crippled, long-dead warriors laid there, timeless but not ageless as the ocean-winds faded their colour to pale shades of greys and browns. Some still had visible insignias and painted words on surfaces hidden from the gusts of salty wind. The four children silently stared the ancient behemoths while Autumn smiled with an "I told you!" face. The monument of a violent past almost freeze them down, they violated the denials of their parents and just learned that giants trully existed. For their young, children world it were suddenly to much.
    Suddenly, with a flash of brazen bravery, Tim steps close to a giant and point to an almost vanished word long painted over there.
    'Autumn! What does that mean?'
    'That were the name of the giant, sillygoose!' put her tongue out Autumn but then got closer to has her own look upon it. The characters are faded nearly unreadable and Autumn thinks some are even gone. The giant's name sounds strange for her young ears: torsie1