The rays of dawn pierce the smoke and lighten the sky. The city now smolders as the fires die. The horrible droning draws nearer. I have to find Kurtz before its too late.

I stumble through the rubble and fall into a crater. I land on my knees, pain shoots through my body. I try to climb out but it is too deep, at least seven feet, my boots slip on the muddied earth where a water pipe had been hit. I stand in a puddle of water as the pipe spews the liquid all over me. My uniform is soaked and my feet struggle to gain traction. I dig a small foothold in the earth and step up, I am just able to peer above the craters lip.

I see among the ruins a figure on their knees hovering over a body. It appears to be a child, they quietly weep over the dead. I see upon further inspection the figure wears a gray uniform. Its Kurtz! I found him! He is safe, praise God! "Kurtz!" I shout. He looks at me. Suddenly the droning is now overhead. I look up and see the silvery planes, hundreds of them, their bombay doors open. The sound of arrows in flight sound again only this time louder than ever before. Oh no! Kurtz move!

Before I can utter a sound, I am suddenly blown into the crater wall. I fall back and land in the puddle of water below. The booms ripple so loudly it is beyond deafening. I cower as my body is thrown about in the most violent manor. The explosions grow nearer to me, now they are right on top of me. I fear for my life. Please God save me! I am petrified, this will be the end of me, I am sure. My last thoughts are of Irina, my father, my brother, Lieutenant Sprieg, Obrenski, and finally Kurtz. I am rocked so violently I feel as though my organs will liquefy. The concussions suck air from my lungs and I struggle to breath. Oh God save me! I am violently shook, every blast vibrates my bones. I feel as though I will melt if I'm not blown apart first. My eardrums burst and ring horribly. Sharp debris showers me, is there no end?!

Suddenly, it's as though my prayer had been answered because the dull thuds of explosions recede. The ground no longer shakes, the perpetual earthquake has ended. I'm alive! I survived! The droning fades as the bombers begin their turn west. Oh thank God I'm alive!

I stand up, soaking wet, and check myself to find I am unscathed.

I gleam happily for my luck has held out.

Oh no! "Kurtz!" I yell as I try to climb out of my slippery abyss. I hear no reply. "Kurtz!" I yell louder now, gaining a foothold. There is still no answer. I now manage to lift myself over the craters lip. I claw my way on to the road and stagger up to my feet. I shout as loud as I can muster, "Kurtz!" There is nothing but silence.

I look about and all I see is leveled rubble for as far as my sight goes. There are no buildings left standing. This city has been reduced to flattened ruins. The sun is well over the horizon now and illuminates the devastation very clearly. The city still smolders and the scent of smoke is still thick in the air. I see before me what was left of a road that is now dotted with craters. And finally, where Kurtz had been is now a deep hole. I think surely he must have gotten away in time. "Kurtz!" I cry out. Please answer Kurtz, you got to be ok. "Kurtz!" I cry once more. There is no sound but of the wind that howls through the ruins. Oh God, not you too Kurtz. You have to be alive! "Kurtz please

answer me!" I cry aloud,"Kurtz!" Is he really gone? He can't be, can he? No, I don't believe it. I race over to the crater expecting him to be there but as I peer over the crater's edge, my worst fears come to fruition. There in the bottom of the crater sits a lone boot, Kurtz's boot, for it is far too small for a regular adult. I sink to my knees as tears roll down my face. Oh poor kid! He didn't deserve this. My grief then turns to anger. That stupid kid, he should have stayed at his post. Why did his grandmother have to live here? Why did the allies bomb our city? Why us? Why him? Why couldn't it have been me? The grief returns and tears pour from my eyes. I cry in final desperation, "Kurtz!" Only the sound of the howling wind meets my pleas. Oh poor Kurtz! You were such a good kid, the world didn't deserve you. You were too innocent.

I rise and wipe the tears from my eyes. I failed you Kurtz, I was supposed to bring you back. I couldn't save you. Now I must go confront the Lieutenant and Obrenski alone. What should I tell them? It is a long way back.

I begin my return trek when suddenly a glimmer of metal catches my eyes. Could it be? It is! The kubelwagen, partially buried under debris, still stands. I rush to it, narrowly tripping into a crater again. I find its open top covered in bricks and glass. I briefly uncover it by shoving off the bricks and clearing them out of the driver's seat. I find the vehicle to be peppered with shrapnel. Cuts and holes decorate its body. The tires appear to be in decent shape, I don't know how. This vehicle must be indestructible!

I step into the driver's seat and find the keys still in the ignition. I turn on the vehicle, it spits and sputters like an ancient piece of machinery coming to life. It lives! Praise God! I step on the gas, though it putters, it drives forth.

I carefully venture my way back through the broken city. The city has been flattened to where one can see miles in every direction over the ruins. I dodge craters and bumps in the road that I find the latter, in my horror, to be bodies. It appears as though nothing survived the excessive bombing. Smoke still rises though the fires have died away. I find myself constantly getting lost because the landmarks I was all to familiar with are gone now. Some of the ruins have a still have a soft burning glow as embers flow from the carcauses of devestated strutures. Why did they bomb us again I wonder as I trek.

The bombers droning is gone. Now I now reach the west outskirts of the city. I jolt on to the dirt road and am shocked. The landscape looks untouched for no craters can be found here. The grass is so green compared to the gray mass of ruble that is the city. It is so unnerving compared to the moonscaped hell I just left.

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As I trek I hear a sharp buzzing that sounds throughout the air. I turn behind me and see nothing but I know it is the unmistakable sound of a propeller. Just then a silhouette of a plane forms in front of the sun. Bam, bam, bam! Machine guns bullets spill over me and the vehicle. They miss! The plane pass over me. It is a P51 Mustang, an escort fighter.

Suddenly I hear a sharp boom, a puff of black smoke appears behind the fighter. Then another and another. It's the Lieutenant and Obrenski. Another boom sounds, I now can see the gun and Lieutenant Sprieg and Obrenski desperately try to shoot down the attacker. The plane turns to take them head on. I see Obrenski frantically trying to turn the gun while the Lieutenant loads it. It's too late! The Mustang lets out a rip of bullets. I hear them pinging off the gun and the metal caissons. Just then a bullet hits one of the boxes of high explosives. Boooooooom! The gun emplacement erupts into a fireball. I stop in shock as the plane flies overhead. The ammunition is cooking off and I can feel its heat fifty yards away. I watch a body half dismembered fly out of the trench and slam into the ground smoldering. I see another figure walk up the ramp and out of the inferno. I watch the figure, who is completely engulfed in flames, stop and fall to his knees. The burning man just kneels there not ushering a word before collapsing to the ground. An agonizing yell pierces the air, the other dismembered figure still lives!

I jump out of the kubelwagen and race over to the screaming figure. Its Obrenski, he is badly burned and his right arm and leg have been blown away. Blood pours from the red meat of his wounds. I quickly pull my belt and tie it around his severed arm. With as much might as I can muster, I pull the belt tight and the bleeding stops. I take Obrenski's belt and perform the same procedure on his severed leg. The bleeding stops but his clothes have grafted to him and the right side of his face is almost melted away. I got to get him to the hospital! I decide it is the best course of action. I won't lose Obrenski like I lost Kurtz. At least not as long as I can do anything about it. The Lieutenant must have burned to death. GOD DAMMIT! When does the blood shed stop?

I gingerly pick up Obrenski's crippled body and set him in the back seat of the kubelwagen. He moans in agony. I got to get him to the hospital! I slam on the gas and fly as fast as I can. Obrenski bounces around in the back. “Hang on Obrenski! I'm going to get you help!” I shout. I race northwest to the hospital.

We hit the pavement with a sharp jolt and once again this day I enter the dead city.

I drive carefully, avoiding craters. I drive through the flattened city, and wonder if we are the only survivors. We make it to the hospital, or where it should have been. Oh God, I am such a fool! Why did I expect the hospital to still be standing among the devastation? All that remains of the hospital is smoldering ruins. Oh, I am sorry Obrenski, I really tried. I weep over the steering wheel. A quivering pained voice speaks, "Don't blame yourself Franz. You did what you, agh could. I learned to never blame yourself." I turn and see the horribly burned figure smiling. Why is he smiling? "Franz." He says coughing, "I will finally be able to see my son again. You are so much like him." With that said, I see life leave him. His pale burned body lays lifeless, I am alone.

I cry, tears stream down my face. Why God? Why me? I don't understand why I survived. I sit there with tears still trickling down my face. Movement catches my eyes, then another. People are walking! Other Survivors! I'm not alone! The figures walk around me and the vehicle. I step out and try to talk to them but they continue staring ahead. They all possess blank expressions on their faces. They walk past me, not even acknowledging my presence. I wave and shout,“Hello!” but they ignore me. Just like they are too shocked to acknowledge me. Their heads down as they walk, not even looking forward. This is very strange.Then I notice a few emerge from the rubble, not out of it but through it. They phase out of the walls of destroyed buildings. They can’t be! I must be imagining this. Are they ghosts? They can’t be, maybe I am so shook up I am seeing things. They walk eastward, toward the sun. There must be hundreds of them, men, women and children. They can’t be real, I must be imagining things. Shell shock, or that's what I think it's called. Yeah, that's what I have. But they seem so real. Then something shocks me to my core. My blood freezes and my hairs stand on end. I see him, Kurtz. Maybe, just maybe he is alive. I approach him, he keeps his head low just looking ahead, not acknowledging me. I try to touch him but to my shock, my hand goes through him as he continues. I try to convince myself that it isn't real. But then I realize that there was no way that Kurtz could have survived. I step back in shock and trip on some debris, falling upon my back. Are they real? Is this really happening? Then I see Lieutenant Sprieg and Obrenski, their bodies still in one piece as though nothing has happened to them. They can’t be alive, I watched them die, they just can’t be. They continue eastward, joining the procession. Maybe they are spirits. Spirits of the dead, ghosts of devastation, they have to be. I rub my eyes, concerned that they wouldn’t disappear. But to my surprise, they did. They are gone. The whole parade of souls is gone. And there I sit alone, bewildered and confused.

Then my eyes grow wide. Irina!! Oh God I hope she is alive! I race through the devastation to her home or what is left of it. Half of the house collapsed but surprisingly the side with her room seems remarkably untouched. "IRINA!" I cry out as I jump out of the vehicle. Please not you too! I begin to shift through the debris. "IRINA!" I cry once more. No answer. Maybe she got away, maybe she is safe. I didn't see her among the procession of spirits. Yeah she has to be alive. My hand suddenly hits something soft, my stomach turns in knots and my heart sinks. I found a body, please don’t be her. As I uncover my finding, my hairs stand on end and a lump wells in my throat. It's her. Oh God no, not her. I find Irina's limp and pale body under the bricks and rubble. My worst fears have come to fruition. Her head has a large gash on it, blood cakes her beautiful blond hair. Her blue eyes are open and are devoid of life. Her body was covered in cuts and tears. This can't be, she can't be dead, not her too. A shake her in denial as though it will rouse some life into her. Nothing. I shake her more aggressively, come on please you can't be dead. Her glazed eyes look upon the sky, her pale face is of tender frailness. She is gone. Oh God why! Dear God not you too! We were supposed to be married. We were going to grow old together. We were going to have a family. I loved you Irina and have ever since I first saw you. You are wonderful and beautiful. I lean and kiss her forehead and hold her close to me. That was it, the last of my strength. I hold her in my arms and cry. I sob and rock as tears flow from my face. I cry out, "IS THERE ANYONE ALIVE HERE?!”

Why God? Why did I survive? Why am I deemed to walk alone in this ruined city?! Why did everyone I care about have to die? Why couldn't have been me?

I sit there alone amongst the ruins of a once beautiful city now destroyed. The only thing that remains, far off in the distance, is the castle. Its unscathed gleaming white walls shine like a beacon. There are just the two of us then whom survived this horrific bombing. There is no need for me to stay here any longer. I wipe the tears from my eyes, step back into the kubelwagen and drive back to the gun pit.

There I laboriously dug four graves. I buried Obrenski with the letters from his son. I placed the Lieutenant's medal with his body that was burned beyond recognition. Poor Kurtz, I couldn't find enough of him to bury, so all I could do was place his lone boot in the grave. And finally Irina, I kiss her head as though I were sending her off to sleep, placing her gently into her resting place. Four shallow graves, four people who were dearest to me. Four people who will never laugh again or feel the warmth of the sun. Here is where they will lay, and I pray, undisturbed. For soon centuries will go by and their names will be forgotten and their bones will turn to dust. God save them and welcome them into your loving arms. I ask why did they have to die in this pointless war? Why was I spared, what prevented me from joining them? I take a few small stones to mark their resting place and pray for them. Although I hesitate, all I can do now is leave. There is nothing left here for me now.