Living_Proof
Bluelighter
I apologize in advance for the length, but I feel like it would take away from the story to shorten it.
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Derek saw an opening in the crossfire up ahead, and after discussing it with his team leader, they moved into position. Dropping down behind the fallen tree trunk, he could hear the chatter of the bullets and the roar of the explosions, all mixing together to create one large unintelligible conversation. He turned to look at all the faces of his team members, remembering all the things that they had been through, all the memories that they had shared. As he did this, he felt a strange sense of foreboding, because it came to his attention that he could not place the expressions currently on their faces with any he had ever seen before. At the same time, he was not suprised, because although they had endured a great deal, nothing could have prepared them for the war they were now a part of.
He thought of the day that his barracks had received the notice telling them that the United States had decided to get involved in the war. Everyone was excited, because they had all been following the news, waiting to see what would happen. it wasn't that big a deal to him, because he had watched it as well, but he could not understand why the United States would get involved when the war would neither benefit nor hurt them. But it was his duty as a soldier to do as he was told, so he got on the plane with the rest. He remembered the ride in the caravan after they had put all their gear on; how quiet it had been, how the excitement of before had turned to fear and uneasiness. They were all afraid; afraid that maybe their training wouldn't be enough, afraid that what they were doing would be for nothing, but most of all, they were afraid of death. Not one of the members on his team was older than 23, which had caused many of the other squads to laugh at them and tease them, referring to them as "youngins'", "children", and "kids", as well as many other choice names that he'd just as soon like to forget. It hadn't been that bad though, because this had only caused them to grow closer together, and in doing so, they had discovered much about each other. They all shared similiar interests, got along well together, and with the exception of Derek, all were married. This didn't bother him much though, since he was only 18.
"Heads up! We got action here!" The bark of his team leader brought him back to reality. He could now see a wave of advancing soldiers, all dressed in colors that rivalved those that he was wearing. As they were instructed, they all checked their weapons to make sure that they were in functioning order, and then trained them upon a target picked out from the advancing ranks. He was scared, and he didn't really want to kill anybody; however, they'd been trained to act on instinct, to shoot without feeling, so that they would be more effective in battle. So when the command to fire at will was given, Derek pushed his fears back down into his stomach, tightened his grip, and squeezed the trigger. He was suprised that though he had fired a machine gun many times before, this time it seemed to jump out of his hands as though it was alive, protesting what it was being used for. He didn't know if his comrades were experiencing similiar problems or not, because he could no longer hear nor see them. All he could hear was the sound of machine gun fire, the ringing of empty shell cases flying this way and that, the screaming of hot ammunition as it whizzed past his head. He wasn't exactly sure of what he saw, because the vibration from the machine gun caused his upper body to shake as if a live wire was touching him. On top of this, a reddish haze had managed to find its way between his eyes and the scene that was going on, so that everything had just a tinge of red to it, making it seem more and more like an ocean of blood washing over everything. Although these events all occurred within short time periods of each other, Derek felt as if he were watching it all in slow motion. He could see the bullets move in their decisive path, see them find their target and punch through them like they were paper; he watched as men fell, screaming and crying, and didn't get up. he felt as if he were watching through someone else's eyes, that something this horrible couldn't be going on.
He finally turned to look at his squad for the first time since the firing started, and couldn't believe what he saw. Their faces were contorted into expressions that he couldn't even name, and it seemed as though they had been ihabited by some sort of spirit, because when he looked into their eyes, he saw nothing but a hollow blackness. his squad leader was screaming something at him, but since he couldn't hear him over the sounds of the fighting, he tried to read his lips. He managed to make out "mor..." before a red rocket lit up the sky above them. Derek needed no more lip reading to understand the message: the enemy was bringing out mortars. This was what he had always been most afraid of, because he had stories of how "you never hear the one with your name on it." This frightened him; because at least with all the noise going on, he felt he could somewhat prepare himself for what lay in store, but something silent, something that would come quickly and without mercy, that truly frightened him. He paused to reload his weapon, and then everything was suddenly sound and noise and light and pain.
When he came to, Derek realized what had happened. A mortar shell had hit close to where they had stationed themselves, and he had to do something to help. He moved to get up and look for his friends, but found that he could only push himself up onto his elbows. A pang of terror hit him as he realized that he had no use of his legs, and he frantically scratched into the dirt until he was resting against the tree trunk. While he was distraught trying to cope with the fact that his legs were as useless as splintered toothpicks, he found a little bit of comfort in the fact that his squad would take care of him. They had always said that they would look out for each other, and since he was the youngest, he had felt they all treated him like a little brother. This was why he had joined the army, because there had been nothing for him at home. He had finished high school, but didn't plan to go on to college, and didn't really feel like working around in the small town grocery store. He had always felt like his parents were dissapointed in him, so he felt that if he became part of something like the army, maybe that would satisfy them. Just then, his body was racked with pain and nausea, and it was all he could do to keep from vomiting. He figured that maybe he had been in shock from the explosion, and now he was feeling the full effect of the damage done to his body. The pain in his legs was especially acute, and it felt like he was being stabbed with a thousand knives over and over. He turned his head to see how the rest of his squad was faring, and was disheartened when he saw how the blast had affected them.
His squad leader was laying on the ground a shredded rag doll. The others were in pretty bad shape, but they could all walk, so he figured that they'd help him somehow. They crawled over in his direction, surveyed him with a quick glance, and then took a peek over the tree trunk. They all huddled together, and apparently were dicussing something. During this discussion, they all looked over at him several times, and then looked over the tree trunk once again. Derek figured that they were discussing how to move him, and so he didn't think much of it. After what seemed like an eternity, they came back over to where Derek was, and he prepared himself for what would be a painful move. But then he saw something in their eyes that disturbed him, and one by one they crawled past him, each one looking at him and mouthing words. Finally the last one stppoed and looked at him. It was Will, the oldest of all of them, and he had liked Derek more than any of the others. As he looked at Derek, his eyes filled with tears, and he mouthed the words "I'm sorry." As he did this, he placed something in Derek's lap. He then crawled on and ran off to join the others. At first Derek thought that is was some kind of sick joke; they were his friends, they wouldn't just leave him here to die, would they? But then he realized that they weren't coming back, and hot tears streamed down his face. He couldn't believe that after all they'd been through they would abandon him. But they had. For the first time, he looked down to see what it was that Will had given him. Resting on top of his ragged legs was a hand grenade.
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Derek saw an opening in the crossfire up ahead, and after discussing it with his team leader, they moved into position. Dropping down behind the fallen tree trunk, he could hear the chatter of the bullets and the roar of the explosions, all mixing together to create one large unintelligible conversation. He turned to look at all the faces of his team members, remembering all the things that they had been through, all the memories that they had shared. As he did this, he felt a strange sense of foreboding, because it came to his attention that he could not place the expressions currently on their faces with any he had ever seen before. At the same time, he was not suprised, because although they had endured a great deal, nothing could have prepared them for the war they were now a part of.
He thought of the day that his barracks had received the notice telling them that the United States had decided to get involved in the war. Everyone was excited, because they had all been following the news, waiting to see what would happen. it wasn't that big a deal to him, because he had watched it as well, but he could not understand why the United States would get involved when the war would neither benefit nor hurt them. But it was his duty as a soldier to do as he was told, so he got on the plane with the rest. He remembered the ride in the caravan after they had put all their gear on; how quiet it had been, how the excitement of before had turned to fear and uneasiness. They were all afraid; afraid that maybe their training wouldn't be enough, afraid that what they were doing would be for nothing, but most of all, they were afraid of death. Not one of the members on his team was older than 23, which had caused many of the other squads to laugh at them and tease them, referring to them as "youngins'", "children", and "kids", as well as many other choice names that he'd just as soon like to forget. It hadn't been that bad though, because this had only caused them to grow closer together, and in doing so, they had discovered much about each other. They all shared similiar interests, got along well together, and with the exception of Derek, all were married. This didn't bother him much though, since he was only 18.
"Heads up! We got action here!" The bark of his team leader brought him back to reality. He could now see a wave of advancing soldiers, all dressed in colors that rivalved those that he was wearing. As they were instructed, they all checked their weapons to make sure that they were in functioning order, and then trained them upon a target picked out from the advancing ranks. He was scared, and he didn't really want to kill anybody; however, they'd been trained to act on instinct, to shoot without feeling, so that they would be more effective in battle. So when the command to fire at will was given, Derek pushed his fears back down into his stomach, tightened his grip, and squeezed the trigger. He was suprised that though he had fired a machine gun many times before, this time it seemed to jump out of his hands as though it was alive, protesting what it was being used for. He didn't know if his comrades were experiencing similiar problems or not, because he could no longer hear nor see them. All he could hear was the sound of machine gun fire, the ringing of empty shell cases flying this way and that, the screaming of hot ammunition as it whizzed past his head. He wasn't exactly sure of what he saw, because the vibration from the machine gun caused his upper body to shake as if a live wire was touching him. On top of this, a reddish haze had managed to find its way between his eyes and the scene that was going on, so that everything had just a tinge of red to it, making it seem more and more like an ocean of blood washing over everything. Although these events all occurred within short time periods of each other, Derek felt as if he were watching it all in slow motion. He could see the bullets move in their decisive path, see them find their target and punch through them like they were paper; he watched as men fell, screaming and crying, and didn't get up. he felt as if he were watching through someone else's eyes, that something this horrible couldn't be going on.
He finally turned to look at his squad for the first time since the firing started, and couldn't believe what he saw. Their faces were contorted into expressions that he couldn't even name, and it seemed as though they had been ihabited by some sort of spirit, because when he looked into their eyes, he saw nothing but a hollow blackness. his squad leader was screaming something at him, but since he couldn't hear him over the sounds of the fighting, he tried to read his lips. He managed to make out "mor..." before a red rocket lit up the sky above them. Derek needed no more lip reading to understand the message: the enemy was bringing out mortars. This was what he had always been most afraid of, because he had stories of how "you never hear the one with your name on it." This frightened him; because at least with all the noise going on, he felt he could somewhat prepare himself for what lay in store, but something silent, something that would come quickly and without mercy, that truly frightened him. He paused to reload his weapon, and then everything was suddenly sound and noise and light and pain.
When he came to, Derek realized what had happened. A mortar shell had hit close to where they had stationed themselves, and he had to do something to help. He moved to get up and look for his friends, but found that he could only push himself up onto his elbows. A pang of terror hit him as he realized that he had no use of his legs, and he frantically scratched into the dirt until he was resting against the tree trunk. While he was distraught trying to cope with the fact that his legs were as useless as splintered toothpicks, he found a little bit of comfort in the fact that his squad would take care of him. They had always said that they would look out for each other, and since he was the youngest, he had felt they all treated him like a little brother. This was why he had joined the army, because there had been nothing for him at home. He had finished high school, but didn't plan to go on to college, and didn't really feel like working around in the small town grocery store. He had always felt like his parents were dissapointed in him, so he felt that if he became part of something like the army, maybe that would satisfy them. Just then, his body was racked with pain and nausea, and it was all he could do to keep from vomiting. He figured that maybe he had been in shock from the explosion, and now he was feeling the full effect of the damage done to his body. The pain in his legs was especially acute, and it felt like he was being stabbed with a thousand knives over and over. He turned his head to see how the rest of his squad was faring, and was disheartened when he saw how the blast had affected them.
His squad leader was laying on the ground a shredded rag doll. The others were in pretty bad shape, but they could all walk, so he figured that they'd help him somehow. They crawled over in his direction, surveyed him with a quick glance, and then took a peek over the tree trunk. They all huddled together, and apparently were dicussing something. During this discussion, they all looked over at him several times, and then looked over the tree trunk once again. Derek figured that they were discussing how to move him, and so he didn't think much of it. After what seemed like an eternity, they came back over to where Derek was, and he prepared himself for what would be a painful move. But then he saw something in their eyes that disturbed him, and one by one they crawled past him, each one looking at him and mouthing words. Finally the last one stppoed and looked at him. It was Will, the oldest of all of them, and he had liked Derek more than any of the others. As he looked at Derek, his eyes filled with tears, and he mouthed the words "I'm sorry." As he did this, he placed something in Derek's lap. He then crawled on and ran off to join the others. At first Derek thought that is was some kind of sick joke; they were his friends, they wouldn't just leave him here to die, would they? But then he realized that they weren't coming back, and hot tears streamed down his face. He couldn't believe that after all they'd been through they would abandon him. But they had. For the first time, he looked down to see what it was that Will had given him. Resting on top of his ragged legs was a hand grenade.
