They hit the white horse, and it stands up. The picador pulls himself into the saddle. Though the horse's guts are hanging out, he canters forward as the rider kicks him. The rider is ready with his lance out, anxious to charge the bull. Blood flows from between the horse's front legs. The bull does not know whether to charge or not.
This story is a gruesome glimpse into bullfighting. This sport, with its blood and gore, has somewhat replaced the fighting in the war. Indeed, this blurb can be seen as a metaphor for the war. The men in charge of the war, like generals and leaders of nations, rode safely like the picadors. The soldiers, then, had to act as the horse, beaten, dying, and still charging forward.
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