posted on Jan, 7 2007 @ 10:24 AM
**Any persons in this story are made up and completely Fictitious**
How it began
Did you ever notice that when you are teenager you are always right? It seems that adults have no idea what they are talking about. Yea…I know that
feeling all too well. I was around sixteen when I started to think like that. Everything my parents said to me always seemed wrong no matter how right
they were. Don’t do this, don’t do that is what my mother always used to tell me, but did I listen? No. I did it regardless of what she said.
My dad is a WWI Veteran. He thought bravely and valiantly in that war. He used to tell me all these cool war stories about what happened to him in
Europe. Back then they were called the “doughboys” a funny name in my opinion, yet my dad though bravely no matter what his title was. He was a
team player that fought for what he believed in and this is what I thought war was like. Sure there are causalities here and there but, we could
always get more people.
Well not too long ago…three years ago to be exact, a whole new war occurred, one that will be remembered by everyone. The war is World War II. My
father quickly headed to training to get back in shape and then he was shipped off to the front lines in the Pacific. Well this is where all things
real and fiction end. To me, war was like what me and my friends played back home in Kentucky. Michael, Dan, Gary and I would always go outside in the
forest and pick up sticks. We used them as our guns and the entire forest was our battlefield. Those were the good old days.
Anyway, two month pass and we still haven’t received any letters from my father. Yet one faithful night we learned the truth. An army jeep drove up
the road that led to our house. Three men stepped out of the jeep dressed in military clothes. I didn’t know what they were doing but for some
reason my mom was crying. She walked up to the door and opened it as the men walked towards our porch. It was almost dark and the sun was setting
making the sky burn bright. The men approached my mother each carrying one thing. “Mrs. Howard we regret to inform you that your husband was killed
in action” said the middle man. That man looked old, about fifty. He barely had any hair left and what ever hair he had was all grayish. My mother
started to cry harder then before. “Now we assure you, he died a hero. He led his friends up a hill controlled by the enemy. Thanks to him, that
mission was a success” continued to the man.
The man then handed my mom an envelope that he was caring. “He handed this letter to one of his squad members and told him that you must get this.
It’s a letter that he wrote just before he was killed” the man said looking sad. I don’t know how but instantly I knew that he wasn’t sad at
all. He could care less about this, this was his job. Go to people’s houses and tell them their son has been killed in war. That is what my father
always said. Those men could careless about the soldier’s lives. The man gave my mother one last thing, an American flag, and then saluted her. He
and the other two men turned around and got back into the car and drove home.
Now being sixteen I only knew that my dad was dead and that’s it. Yet stupid me I let fiction determine my life. I wanted to join the army a few
days after the men showed up. My mom was outraged by this idea, especially since my father just died in the war. She immediately yelled at me and
grounded me for having such thoughts, but I was stubborn. I could care less what she thought and one night I just got up and left. It was in the
middle of the night when I decided this. I was going to join the army no matter what. I wrote a letter to my mom and then walked away.