Author's Note

Greetings fellow strangers from the internet!

I would like to thank you for taking your time to read this story. It's my first ever attempt at writing something as big as this, so please bear with me as there is a high probability of me making a mistake. If you spot any mistakes, please don't be afraid to let me know.

Finally, I would like to dedicate this story to The Greatest Generation. Without their sacrifices, our world would be very different.

Now, without further ado, let us begin!

Chapter 0: When One Door Closes

The grey sky stood tall amongst the battlefield, as shells were thrown up into its depressing sky. The shells seemed to rain down from the heavens, mixed with a combination of metal and death. As they fell, raindrops followed suit, almost looking like a soldier's tears, one who was fearing for his life. As they landed on the soft dirt, a large explosion of fire and destruction followed it, a reminder of what could have happened if one was standing there. When the dirt settles, the only thing that is left of the ground is a large crater, showing the capabilities of man’s destruction. It’s funny. How one small shell can cause so much damage. Many more of these craters litter the old field, a sign of how much this small bit of land has changed.

Suddenly, a figure jumps into the hole, as more shouting comes from behind him. The sounds of a desperate evacuation. The man holds his body close to the ground, his helmet making an indent into the earth. He holds his rifle tightly, acting as if it were his bloodline. His face is smeared with blood and dirt. His silver eyes look up to the grey sky, watching as the shells fly through the air. He looks up and watches as another man runs past him, coming from the front lines. He can tell that the young man was fleeing from something, but he couldn’t remember what it was.

BANG

Oh yeah. That’s what he was running from. The krauts.

Suddenly, the man falls limp, his eyes still filled with terror, as he falls into the same crater as the other man. His body twitches, his eyes losing their life, until his body goes silent. He looks at the now dead man and instantly knows that this man was young. How his face was still as white a snow, showing no signs of battle. His hands were soft and smooth, a stark contrast to the man’s hard and rough hands. He looks at his forehead and sees a gaping hole through it, traveling from his front to his back. The rain pours onto his face, washing away the blood and tears from his face. After a moment, the man crawls to his body, and brings his fingers up. He brings his appendage to the body’s eyelids, and slowly closes them. Crawling back to his old spot the man brings a hand into his chest and pulls out a silver dog tag. Facing it towards him, he reads the name on the front.

John H. Lee
CPT
37321474 T43

John looks at his name imprinted on the plate and sighs. Sometimes, he forgets how meaningful a dog tag can really be. Dog tags only come home in two ways. Either a man comes home, bearing his tags on his uniformed chest, opening his door to a loving wife and to a son he never saw. Or, a path far too common, a stranger knocks on a door, being opened by a lovely woman holding an infant in her arms. The stranger goes into his pockets and pulls out a dog tag and solemnly tells the woman, “I’m sorry. He died as a hero.”

A single tear streaks down John’s eyes as he reaches to the dead body and pulls the dog tags off of him. Tucking it into his pocket, John finally gets up, taking one last look at the body before charging out. He hopes that he doesn’t meet the same fate.

His boots splash in the puddles of blood and water, his heart beating in his chest. He hears shouts in the distance, followed by the cracks of rifle shots. Pointing his own rifle, he peers into the darkness and spots a silhouette in the distance. Aiming down the sight, he slows his breath and pulls the trigger.

CRACK

A bullet flies out of the gun, speeding towards the figure. John strains his ears until he hears a sound that has been etched into his mind

THUNK

The bullet hits its target, and John watches as the figure crumples and falls on the ground. Continuing his charge, John reloads his weapon, completely unaware of his surroundings. As John looked up, he saw a single shell fall from the sky.

Directly in front of him.

Time seemed to slow as he watched the shell fall down from the sky. John’s life flashes before his eyes. All of the good times. All of the bad times. When he was happy, sad, mad, or just fine. He saw it all, and for the first time since the war began, John felt something that he hadn’t felt.

Peace

As the shell made touchdown, the only thing that he could say was, “ Oh shi-”

BANG

The shell exploded, sending John flying through the air. It seemed as if the world would not stop spinning. John’s ears rang from the explosion as he landed on the ground with an audible ‘thud’. As he slowly lost consciousness, he looked up into the cloudy sky to see the sun part through the dark clouds, forming a beautiful rainbow above him. Smiling to himself, he let a single tear fall down his cheek.

Then, everything went dark