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[Story] [Action] War


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"Love is like war: easy to begin but very hard to stop." ~ H.L. Mencken

 

Well, this was it I guess. The moment the British had moved forward from their boats, we would start fire. Relentlessly, reluctantly, we mowed down our brothers. Not a single thought would pass our mind. Why did we kill these people? Hell, why are we at war with the Jacks? I'm just another bloody brainwashed adult sent to war. 

 

As the boats had approached the river bed, the sounds of the tides crashing against the countless pieces of barbwire and traps put down calmed our souls. More and more boats were approaching, it was either us or them. We had to do this. I sat sheltered in my bunker, holding the grip tight. A shiver had ran down my spine. I looked to my fellow comrade. He nodded back and handed me an ammo magazine. I whispered: 'Thank you, brother.' For all I know, this may be the last time I see him. My hands were trembling. My body froze. Flashes of memories and people ran across my mind.

 

Hundreds of boats could be seen across the horizon, filled with dozens of people.

They set foot. I closed my eyes and pressed the trigger, moving the stationed machine gun left and right. Bullets flew across my head, hitting the walls behind me. Dark green planes flew across with RAF symbols, dropping bombs on several bunkers. I know them, they were good people. They just fought for the wrong cause.

I opened my eyes to see a dead body laying on my lap; the atmosphere of the battlefield had left me deafened and weak. His head was facing upwards and his hands in my chest, gripping my shirt. The British were advancing. The debris of bunkers had fell on the ground. It had left us vulnerable to gunfire.

 

I let go of the gun. I held his hand tight with both of my hands, blood pouring out of his chest onto the floor.

 

I opened his palm to see a picture of his newborn baby.. I-It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

 

 

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