1

I opened my eyes and was greeted by an overcast sky. There was a light cool rain that was only mildly refreshing. It was quiet aside from the drops of rain hitting my body. It was almost peaceful.

Breathing in the stench of blood and smoke washes away any semblance of peace that would have surfaced. All I felt was apathy. I was used to this environment. There was nothing to surprise me anymore and anything that did was already bottled up inside.

I have become numb to the feelings of despair and fear. The emotions I exhibit are mere facades to keep the morale of my comrades up and to keep myself from falling apart. I can count on one hand the times I felt genuine joy in the past eight years. Times where I was genuinely happy to be where I was.

The only times where the despair is unbearable is when I sleep. The nightmares attack every fear I have and remind me of those horrible surprises I bury deep within. The worst dreams are where I remember times past. High school, elementary school, the MMA classes and adventurous summers.

I started to believe that my mind and sense of self were two completely different beings. I see memories in my dreams that should evoke feelings of nostalgia. Instead of nostalgia, I feel confusion and sorrow at my lack of understanding of my old self. My mind can’t seem to understand that the dreams in which I’m dying are where I am at peace.

I love those memories but it is like looking at the photo of a dead friend. Their features that once brought you peace of mind and the times you laughed together are mourned and sought after, but they are gone forever.

I do believe that death is the only way for me to be at peace. I do not know if I have a future in the new world that will rise from the ashes of this war. I am indifferent. I am only twenty-five, yet experienced like an old man.

I stand up. The once lush grassland around me has been transformed into a soulless mess of grey and brown and unnatural craters. It all starts to blend together in my mind. The only way I can distinguish the battles from each other is who died next to me.

Walking among the corpses and searching their packs for supplies, I ask myself if it’s wrong to feel so calm. So many of these eighteen year old boys and girls enlisted with dreams of grandeur and adventure but there was no adventure. Instead of growing brave like the heroes of our favorite shows, we grew sorrowful and apathetic. Our old selves grow distant and incomprehensible.

I’m not some knight in shining armor. I’m not a super soldier or some space marine. I’m just one rat among thousands scurrying through the mud.

After rummaging through the corpses, I went over what I had just acquired. A few MRE’s, each a different menu and four 24-Hour EPA Bundeswehrs. I’m dreading eating enemy rations but we still have to eat, even if it’s shit.

I walked back to my squad, at least what was left of it. Our leader had his head blown off. If not for our dog tags, we would’ve thought he chickened out and abandoned us.

We placed a tarp over him and Corporal Johnny “Crusader” Rico hadn’t stopped praying by his side since I left. Crusader was a twenty-four year old farm boy from Erwin, Tennessee. The most eventful moments of his childhood were the yearly harvest, occasional severe weather and Sunday Church. In his free time, he freely talks about God and Jesus despite some of us, including myself, being the most profane nonbelievers. He lied about his age to fight in the war, influenced by the passionate speeches of his father.

I look over and see Private First Class James “Burger King” Allen squatting behind a bunch of debris. He is the twenty-two year old runt of our team. Originally from Los Angeles, California, his family moved around the western United States for most of his childhood. He rejected multiple scholarships in favor of enlisting immediately after he graduated high school, not seeking glory or camaraderie, but rather to live in the world of his favorite movies and video games.

Under the hood of a bullet-riddled Humvee, tinkering with the engine, was Danielle “Wrench Wench” Ramirez. Hailing from Colorado Springs, Colorado, she enlisted with me the moment the war broke out. Being childhood friends, only I was allowed to call her “Dani” and she was the only one allowed to call me “Suzi,” at least in the army.

“Did you find anything?” Dani asked.

“Some enemy rations.”

She looked up from the engine and said, “Kraut food? Seriously, Suzi? Starving would be preferable.”

I looked over at Rico, who’s praying became shaky.

“Rico, that’s enough. Let him rest.”

He stopped speaking and grasped the dead man’s hand.

“Rico! Show some respect. Leave him alone.”

Walking back to the Humvee and leaning against it, I suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion that I could not allow to overcome me. However, my near inability to keep my eyes open and the pain in my head made that difficult.

“He’s your fault!” Allen yelled.

“Goddamnit. Ain’t you done yet? Hurry up and wipe your ass.”

“Don’t you fucking start riding me! You ain’t got no right being sore with me! It’s your fucking fault we’re here!”

I picked up a rock and hurled it at Allen, hitting his head with dead eye accuracy.

“Ow! What the fuck did you do that for?! You think that’s gonna solve everything?! It’s not gonna fucking help anything!”

“I threw it at you because you’re an animal. All you understand is the human boot.”

“Screw you, Kobayashi!”

With that, Allen pulled up his pants and moved over to the Humvee, his XM250 resting on his shoulder.

I pulled out a map and told everyone to gather around.

“Okay, so the base is up north, near this small town. The rest of 1st Battalion is up there, I think. Radios are down and our route is based off old intel. We’re working with what we got.”

“What’s wrong with the radios?” Allen asked.

“Bullet holes,” Dani answered bluntly. “I know, it’s a real mystery as to why that causes them to stop working.”

“That’s enough, Dani. How much gas do we have, Rico?”

“About three and a half cans.”

“Go see if you can find some more. Allen, gather some weapons and ammo. Dani, you keep working on the mechanical issues. First things first, let’s get Don out of the damn mud.”

After setting our old team leader in the truck, I took a quick smoke break. It did nothing to ease the pounding in my head, the heaviness of my eyes or the racing of my thoughts. Before I started to argue with myself, Dani spoke up, as if she noticed my mental state.

“It’s not your fault,” she said in Japanese.

“Hm?”

“Allen’s just upset. Don’s got us all a little sad. You didn’t kill him, Germans did.”

“That’s true, but I didn’t save him, either.”

“His number just came up. You can’t save everyone.”

It’s the nature of war that people die. No one gets any special treatment. Everyone has an equal chance of dying in some twisted way. The only things keeping us alive are the men and women next to us and a lot of luck.

Soon enough, Rico and Allen came back with canteens of water, German EPAs, MREs, ammo and two more cans of gas.

Then I heard the impact of an artillery shell from the east. And another, and another. It was a creeping barrage. Before long the shells would be right on top of us.

“Dani, anytime, sweetheart,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m your sweetheart. Unf! Okay… Suzi, crank her up.”

At the sound of the hood closing, I turn the ignition and hear it sputter and crap out. I turned on the clutch and heard the engine rumble. It was the most beautiful sound I heard.

2

Our journey was about as peaceful as you could hope for in this godforsaken war. We only stopped to refill on gas and eat and to let a few enemy patrols pass by.

One time, there was a large patrol that would have been impossible to avoid, so we had to improvise. I parked the Humvee along the side of the road and placed Don in the driver’s seat. I had everyone cover themselves in his blood and we all played dead. It worked and I was grateful that our old leader could help us one last time.

It’s not good to think about all the hell you just saw, so we try to keep our minds off it by talking about dumb things. I made a pretty strange suggestion when we passed a small village.

“You guys mind if I turn around and find a boy to fuck for a candy bar?”

“Ain’t no one gonna do that, Suzi,” Dani said with a chuckle.

“They totally fuckin’ will,” Allen chimed in. “Given what people are into nowadays, you ain’t even got to give him a chocolate bar, he’ll fuck you for free.”

“No, no, no, no, he ain’t fuckin’me, I’m fuckin’ him. There’s a difference.”

“Any of you touch somebody out here, I’m shooting you,” Rico proclaimed. “There was a church back there. These are peaceful, Jesus-loving folks. I ain’t gonna let you lead them astray.”

“Church? I don’t remember seeing a church. Dani, did you see a church?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“See? No church.”

“Stop it, alright? You’re just trying to rile me up, now.”

“Speaking of Jesus, you think Jesus loves the Kaiser, Rico?”

“Do I think Jesus loves the Kaiser? I’d assume so. Historically speaking, European kings were baptized as babies so they’d be saved.”

“He might need a few more after the shit he pulled.”

“Oh, absolutely. Most definitely, but it ain’t gonna save him from man’s justice.”

“Yeeees, sir!” Allen loudly claimed, fist bumping Rico.

We were silent for a little bit until Dani finally spoke up.

“You think the Kaiser will end the war to fuck me for a chocolate bar?”

We take pride in our vulgarity, not as much as the Marines, but our language is still full of strange terms that would get us unpleasant looks in the civilian world. For example, “donkey dick” is used to describe several different pieces of equipment, mainly those long and phallic in shape.

Our daily conversations are almost always full of almost aggressively sexual stories that are likely fake and the mockery of the most delicate social conventions.

We don’t talk the way we do without good reason. We are so vulgar and make such crude jokes because otherwise we would fall to pieces. Humor is our lifeline to our humanity and without it, we might as well just wither away and let the weight of every messed up situation crush us. It’s a coping mechanism and without it, I would probably be in a psych ward.

Eventually, the sun began to set and we had to stop for the night. We were all exhausted and had no night vision. We decided to go on 50% watch where two of us stay awake in case of hostiles while the other two slept.

Dani and I volunteered for the first watch. The sky was overcast, so the environment around us was especially dark. I could only make out vague silhouettes and every blade of grass moving from the slightest gust of wind made my heart beat faster until they became a normal sight. I was focused on the ambience of the area so that any unusual sound could be noticed and eliminated immediately.

Yet this time, it was extremely difficult to focus. My head was still pounding and a million thoughts were racing through my mind. I desperately wanted to bury my face in my hands and cry but I had to fight myself to keep the tears at bay. I was cold, shaking slightly and just so damn tired.

I was scared. I was always scared but this was the first time in a long while that it felt like the feeling was going to overwhelm me.

“Hey, Dani,” I said. “I can’t do it. I can’t take it anymore. I’ve lost my nerve.”

“You’re alright. It’s normal to get nervous in this type of situation.”

“I don’t think I’m nervous. No… this is something different. I-It feels like everything is just crashing down on me.”

Dani was silent and looking right at me like she was ready to listen to what I had to say.

“Our luck is running out. We’ve had so many close calls these past eight years and now one of us is gone. We’re gonna get a replacement and he’ll be dead the next day and it’ll just repeat, repeat, repeat until we’re all dead. Bullets flying past my face, just a few centimeters away. I can not take it anymore.”

“Keep going, Suzi. Let it all out.”

“N-no… I-I think I’m done.”

“Don’t bottle it up. Nobody wants you breaking down later and scaring people. We need everyone to keep a level head so that we can go home.”

“Can we even go home like this?”

“I don’t know. That’s what you and I are gonna find out. Don’t think about it too much for a while. We still have a job to do, but if you need to talk, I’m always right here next to you.”

I took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts into the back of my mind. She was right, we could talk about everything later. At that moment, the most important thing was to observe and keep everyone safe.

3

Driving into the base, I can already hear the screaming wounded. It’s the same everyday. Sometimes worse, but never better.

I see prisoners being unloaded from trucks and a line of them staring at us from behind a fence. A part of me wants to beat them until they’re blind but what the hell else are they gonna do?

I park near the other vehicles and get out. I call over a corpsman and help Dani and Allen set Don on a stretcher. I held his hand for a little bit and took a good look at him before they carried him away. I’m never gonna see that man again.

“K-Kobayashi… They’re gonna send him home, right? T-They ain’t gonna bury him here, right?” Allen’s voice was shaky. He was on the verge of losing it, I could tell, but I didn’t know what to say. The only thing I could think of was to keep them busy.

“I don’t know that, Allen, but we still got shit to do. Unpack our spoils and distribute them to the people that need it. Once you’re done, give the Humvee to the engineers, make it their problem. I’m gonna go report in.”

Walking into the commander’s tent, I see the two men I can always trust as leaders. Captain Tom Baker was our platoon commander, always the first into the fray and he would never leave a man behind if he could help it.

Lieutenant Colonel Paul Dunn was the commander of 1st Battalion and tried to be as close to the fighting as possible in order to ensure the best possible strategy.

“Thought you were dead,” the Captain admitted. I shook both of their hands.

“Devils take care of their own. I’m guessing since you’re here, Don didn’t make it,” said the Colonel.

“Afraid not.”

“Captain, go among the new arrivals, get them a new rifleman.”

“Sir!” Baker patted me on the shoulder as he walked by. A simple way of welcoming me back.

“How about the rest of Alpha Company?”

“We’re it.”

“You’re it? You’re shittin’ me.”

I stayed silent.

“Fuck… Well, I hate to send you back to hell so soon but we’re gonna need you.”

He pulls me over to a map.

“When?”

“Three days. Main unit is punching east. You’ll be heading out with Charlie Company on a flank guard mission. You’ll rendezvous with the First Infantry Division and the British to the south and together you’ll take this town.”

I look down at the map and I’m already dreading going back out there. It is unbearable to have to see everyone except you get hit. Every single day I almost lose my nerve and somehow manage to keep it under control by telling myself that I should be used to it.

“You’ve been promoted to sergeant.” He rips off the corporal insignias off my sleeves and replaces them with the rank of sergeant.

“Take a shower, get some food and rest up.”

“Yes, sir.”

I salute him and he does the same.

“Rangers lead the way.”

“All the way.”

Once I leave the tent, I just stand there and stare at the mud, shaking. I have to hold my breath in otherwise I will lose any courage left in me.

Taking one last deep breath, I accept the burden of leadership.

Walking back to my team, I hear someone start talking to me. I don’t even stop to look at them, I just keep walking.

“Are you Sergeant Koroyoshi?”

“It’s Kobayashi, motherfucker. Who the fuck are you?”

Think I already know the answer.

“Private McKnight. I was told to report to you. I’m your new rifleman.”

Called it.

I turn around and look him over. He’s clean. Clean shaven, clean skin, clean everything. He doesn’t even look old enough to enlist. He even still has the old-fashioned military buzz-cut. I was taller than him by almost a full head. I’m six foot four, making him about five six. He was carrying a duffel bag and had an excited grin on his face.

“How long you been in the Army?” I asked.

“Does basic training count?”

“Hm… What’s your name?”

“Private McKnight-”

“No, no, no. Your name.”

“Austin.”

“Do as you're told. Don’t get too close to anyone. And deal with it.”

“What, we’re not allowed to have friends?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Silence. I put a cigarette in my mouth and offer him one. He politely declined.

Figured as much. Just looking at him I could hear his parents spouting a bunch of bullshit about how he’s gonna be a hero. The world his parents promised him is going to shatter to pieces.

I lead him back to our squad and he greets them with a nervous stutter and an invitation for a handshake. No one returns the favor and they just stare at him. We had all forgotten basic manners years ago.

“W-Where’s the frontline?” he asked.

“Where’s the front?” Dani repeats, looking a little dumbfounded at his question. “You fall asleep on your way here? Just pick a direction ‘cause this is Germany, kid. We’re surrounded by Krauts.”

I grab his duffel bag and start looking through it.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking to see what you need and don’t need.”

Not really. I’m just trying to keep busy.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“You go to RASP?” Allen asked.

“No. I was on my way to the 2nd Infantry Division. They pulled me out of line and sent me here.”

Damn, we got it that bad?

“So, what’s it like?” the kid asked. I can only see the back of his head but I can still see his excited grin.

“What’s what like?” asked Allen.

“The fighting.”

Rico and Allen leave. When he asked if he said anything wrong, I lied and told him that a captain waved them over. Dani just stared at him, emotionless.

“We go where they tell us, shoot where they tell us and try not to die,” Dani said.

“Well, I’m here to kick some ass.”

He sounded confident and so sure of himself. I think there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. This kid wants glory and he’s not gonna get it.

“I gotta say, I was already looking forward to being out here. Doing my duty, you know? But when I learned that I was gonna be a part of the Rangers, I’ve never been so excited in my life.”

Silence.

“Everyone talks about the Battle of Tokyo back home. You guys drove the Russians back and made them give up. You’re heroes.”

“Of which novel?”

I hand him back his bag and make him the errand boy for a little bit.

“Extra matches, extra toilet paper, extra toothpaste, extra toothbrush. You can find them at the supply depot. Take the weapons and ammo to the armory. Give the Humvee to the engineers. Once you’re done, take a shower, get something to eat and find a bunk in the barracks.”

“Yes, sir!”

He hops into the truck with a big smile on his face and asks, “Where are the keys?”

“They should be in there somewhere. If you can’t find them, ask the Staff Sergeant for a new set.”

Dani and I giggled while walking to the showers. Humvees don’t have ignition keys.

Just taking off my gear, I already feel so light I could fall from a small push. The weight of the gear is so much and I wear it for so long that there are times where I can’t remember what it’s like without it. I fight in it, run in it, and sleep in it. There are times where I feel so weighed down and so disgusting that I honestly can’t say I’m really living. It also doesn’t help that the plate carrier is really tight around the chest.

Feeling the hot water wash over my body after days on the field is unbelievably satisfying. Looking down at myself before hopping in, I didn’t think I was all that dirty. But when I saw the gray water at my feet, I quickly learned otherwise. The dirt had blended in with my tattoos and I realized I had to do some serious scrubbing. The only thing I had on hand was my toothbrush but it was better than nothing. Besides, I had an idea for it later.

I mixed my toothbrush in the bar of soap and went over the areas where dirt likes to stick.

I started with my forearms and moved on to my biceps.

This is working better than I thought.

The dirt just peeled off and washed away down the drain. So satisfying.

I scrubbed my inner thighs and ankles and almost forgot my knees. I went back up and scrubbed just underneath my breasts. Also had to go in between. There was even dirt in between the spaces of my abs. Dirt also likes to stick in my scars. Can’t forget to wash behind your ears.

I started washing my hair and was surprised when I saw a little bit of red go down the drain. There was blood in my hair. I remember in the battle where we lost Don, somebody tried to drown me in a crater. It was a mixture of blood and rain that I can still taste.

Walking out of the showers, I actually feel somewhat alive. The air felt so smooth and gentle against my skin. Now it was time to find my target.

The reason I ruined a perfectly good Army-issued toothbrush was to have a little fun with the new guy. Rule #1 of the 75th Ranger Regiment: New guy gets picked on until he dies or survives long enough.

Not really, I just made a bunch of rules up.

It didn’t take long until I had found my target right outside a shower stall. Private McKnight’s duffel bag was sitting on a chair, unprotected.

I slowly opened the bag and instantly spotted two unused toothbrushes. I replace one with my contaminated toothbrush, making sure to be in full view of everyone else.

Don’t worry, kid. It’s all for the sake of the team.

4

It was the day before the mission and needless to say, I was scared shitless. One wrong call and my entire team is dead. I can’t have their deaths on my conscience because then I won’t be able to die in peace. Even if I take responsibility and off myself, I won’t find peace. The guilt will weigh down my very soul.

I managed to keep my mind off it by reading letters from home. My sisters tell me funny stories about their friends and each other.

The triplets shared a story about a boy that confessed to one of them. They kept switching places and he thought that he was still talking to the same person.

The best parts of the letters are the positive changes to their lives or things they accomplished. It never fails to bring a smile to my face when I read about how proud they are of themselves.

“Junko is getting married,” I said to Dani, who was lying in the bed in front of me. “And Kimiko got accepted into the same university as Hiyori.”

“Good for them,” Dani said. “Those girls deserve it.”

“Got a letter for you too, Ramirez,” Rico sat down with us along with Allen. “Says it’s from everyone.”

Dani took the letter and immediately ripped it apart. No one said a word about it.

“What about you guys?” Dani asked.

“My dad just sent another letter to remind me that Jesus loves me. It’s stupid,” he answered as he crumpled up the letter and threw it away. “I read my Bible everyday. He doesn’t have to remind me of my faith. I just want him to tell me how mom’s doing.”

“My dog died,” Allen said. “Had him since he was a puppy.”

We were silent for a moment and just stared at our letters. Nothing to really talk about until we heard someone unhappy with their message from home.

“He fucking sent it back!” said one Emma Baumer.

Specialist Emma Baumer was our blonde-haired, blue-eyed German girl from Oak Hill, West Virginia. Her parents moved to the US from Germany to start a bakery. She could speak German and English fluently and taught me a little along with a few dessert recipes.

She was also something of a genius when it came to desserts. Her German pastry experience allows her to create delicately soft cookies and cakes with whatever she finds in our rations. She is the one to call during a field birthday.

From the sound of it, she got a “Dear John” letter, or “Dear Jane” in this case, a letter written to someone in the military from their romantic partner to inform them that their relationship is over, usually because the writer found someone new that means the world to them.

Those types of letters are commonly received by many of the married men, with some even having kids. It makes me glad that I enlisted with no romantic experience.

“What did he send back?” I asked.

“The Ranger shirt I gave him. I had it custom made. It was for his fucking birthday.”

“What did he write?”

“Didn’t write anything. Just sent back the damn shirt.”

“Sorry, man, but that’s how it is for us. Time stops out here. Our lives stay the same while everyone else moves on. No one gives a rat’s ass about us.”

“I’m cleaning my rifle. Dies ist lächerlich.”

I motioned everyone to join her and told McKnight, who wasn’t too far out of earshot, to come with.

We layed out a large tarp and sat on whatever was available. We pulled out some rags and started cleaning.

It was… relaxing. An easy way to pass the time and clear the mind, even if we clean the parts six times over.

While cleaning, a UH-60 Black Hawk flies above us towards the front line, blaring the familiar melody of Fortunate Son from its speakers.

“This fucking song again,” I said, annoyed. “We can’t get our own fucking music?”

“Probably some old geezer in there,” Dani claimed. “The older generations are only proud of us if we’re just like them.”

I suppose she was right. Before the war broke out, nothing was expected of us. We were never going to live up to the reputation of the ones before us. They constantly reminded us of their accomplishments and never believed we could live up to their expectations, only to call for us to fight for them. And suddenly we were worthy of their respect.

The funny thing is that those who speak highly of their generation’s accomplishments in war, never actually fought in one.

I look over to my left and see Allen scrubbing the barrel of his XM250 to a polish.

“Ease up on your barrel there, Burger King,” I chuckled.

“Burger King?” McKnight asked.

“It’s a little nickname we gave him. Ain’t that right, BK?”

He didn’t answer.

“What about everyone else? What are their nicknames?”

“Dani is our ‘Wrench Wench.’ Because she’s good with engines and stuff like that.”

“Don’t actually call me that. I’ll shoot you.”

“We call Baumer ‘Apollo’ because she always said we were gonna go to war with the Germans. And Rico is our ‘Crusader.’ Our warrior priest, you could say.”

“I’m no warrior of God, Kobayashi. I’m just another man made in His image.”

“Whatever, dude.”

“What about you, Sergeant?”

Baumer perked up.

“Oho! Let me tell you something, kid. Kobayashi can get pretty sweet sometimes. Especially if it’s a cute boy. She can even get embarrassed. Blush a little. But don’t be fooled… Kobayashi is the most cold-blooded killer out of all of us. We call her the Skin Walker.”

“A terrifying beast that can take the form of a human, according to the Navajo people. She looks like a woman but her wolf eyes and ears give it away,” Allen explained.

“The Krauts can try to set up the perfect ambush,” Rico went on. “Hide themselves from the human eye perfectly. They think they can get the drop on her, but no! The Skin Walker can hear you breathe and see you trembling in fear. A fear that makes nourishes the heartless soul-”

“Shut the fuck up, Rico,” I ordered with a laugh.

All of us, aside from Dani, treat our nicknames as signs of endearment. The reality is that we kind of hate them.

5

It was the day we set off on our mission. We were to rendezvous with the First Infantry Division and parts of the British Army and take control of a town housing a small group of enemy soldiers.

Everyone loaded their weapons, stocked up on supplies and…

Waited.

It was early morning when we were given the orders to get ready to ship out and now it was noon. We just sat in our Humvees and waited, doing whatever we could to pass the time.

“What the fuck is taking so long?” Dani wondered out loud. “We’ve been sitting here for like five goddamn hours.”

“Ramirez, don’t say the Lord’s name in such a way,” Rico said from his position on the turret, in a manner reminiscent of a scolding mother.

“Rico, shut up,” I said.

She placed a pinch of chewing tobacco in her lower lip and spat out the window.

“Don’t spit on my Humvee, Dani,” I said.

“I didn’t.”

“Dani, you spit with your lips and you always get it on the Humvee. Spit with your teeth instead.”

A voice on the radio gave a status report.

“All Hunter Two Victors. Still waiting for the interpreter.”

“Why the hell do we need a translator?” Dani asked. “Baumer speaks German. You speak German. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I can teach you some German if you want.”

“Nah. Pretty sure six year old me is more intelligent. If I mentally regressed back to that age after high school, I’d be a doctor.”

“Anyone want a Charms?”

Dani and I quickly turned around in our seats and saw McKnight holding out an opened pack of Charms candy. I swiped it out of his hands and threw it out the window.

“Are you an idiot? Never let a pack of Charms into this vehicle again! That’s an order.”

“Nobody from Boot Camp to a fucking General has a pack of Charms on them. It’s bad luck.”

There are many such superstitions among the military and we believe them with every fiber of our being. We see how true they are every single day. Some of us have pictures of loved ones in our pockets at all times. Dani and I have bullets from when we were wounded. Their power might be running out, though.

I heard team leaders telling their subordinates to get back into their vehicles and start the engines. I immediately knew what it meant.

“Translator is stowed. We are Oscar Mike to the staging area just outside the town.”

Dani started the truck and we led the rest of the battalion out into hostile territory.

“All Hunter Two Victors, maintain 50 meter dispersion at 45 kph.”

6

We set up a checkpoint along a relatively lightly traveled road. It was pitch black out with distant gunfire in the background. The only thing that slightly illuminated the inside of the truck was the blue force tracker or BFT. It was a computer that displayed general location information of friendly and hostile military forces. British to the north, French and Spanish to the south and the US straight through the middle.

While memorizing the positions of each blue and red dot, I suddenly get a whiff of a certain fruity candy.

“McKnight, what did I say about the Charms candies?”

I heard him spit it out.

“Sorry, Sergeant. I had one left.”

“I told you, man,” Allen mocked. “You can’t hide anything from the Skin Walker. She can smell your breath, smell the soap in your hair.”

“Our father, Lord in Heaven, hallowed be thy name-”

“Oh, no,” Dani complained. “New guy ate so many, the Crusader is praying!”

“All of you, shut the fuck up.”

They all went silent, save for Rico, who was still praying. Loudly.

“That includes you, Rico. You’re just asking to get shot. Do it quietly.”

After a short moment, McKnight asked, “How come we’re not there yet?”

A question that was on many minds, including myself, that Dani provided a needlessly long answer for.

“Maybe because a certain severely retarded company commander who, in his infinite retardation, decided not to use his NVGs. He was bragging about how well he could see in the dark and thought he would save batteries. But then, he missed the turn at the checkpoint and got lost because the dumbass couldn’t see out of his fucking truck! Idiot probably believed that eating carrots-”

“Dani! Please shut up. Thank you.”

I then hear Captain Dunn bang against the door.

“What’s up, sir?”

“A French checkpoint just got hit by a car bomb. From this point onwards, no one is allowed to pass through this checkpoint. If you see a car coming, fire warning shots and light ‘em up if they don’t stop.”

“Yes, sir. All right, everyone. Get out and set up a defensive posture. Rico, load up tracer rounds and fire on my command.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

We exited the vehicle with our weapons and night vision goggles and set ourselves up with another team. Bright headlights were coming towards us almost as soon as we kneeled down. It seemed to be a truck based on the sound of the engine and the silhouette.

“Fire tracers!” I ordered.

Rico let off three short bursts from the .50 caliber turret he was operating. The rounds were bright enough to see at night and the truck still didn’t stop.

“Light ‘em up!”

A hail of gunfire rained down on the approaching vehicle. Its headlights were taken out and a tire popped causing it to swerve to the side of the road and fall on its side.

Looking through my night vision, I see two targets emerge from the vehicle. They tried to flee but McKnight was able to take them out before they could get five steps in.

“Good shootin’, kid.”

“Y-Yeah…”

Before long, another set of headlights came moving towards us. Looked to be a small car this time. Everything went the same. Rico fired tracers when I told him to and everyone opened fire when I told them to. The only difference is that the car stopped and two sets of hands appeared from the windows.

I ordered them, in German, to exit the car slowly and to keep their hands raised. I also sent Dani to check if anyone was hiding. The occupants were a teenage boy and a middle-aged man. They were miraculously unharmed but still had spots of blood on their clothes.

I was about to ask them some questions until I saw Dani with a blank face. She was holding her rifle by the sling and stared into the back of the car. I walked over and peered into the back seat… and immediately regretted it.

It was a little girl, about eight years old, slumped over, dead. The back of her head was indescribably horrible. She was still holding onto a stuffed bear.

I walked back to the two men.

“Why didn’t you stop at our warning shots? Why did you keep coming? Why didn’t you stop?”

“I’m sorry. Can I… take my daughter?”

It took me a moment to process his answer. Why was he apologizing?

“Go on.”

They gently removed the girl from the car and walked back to wherever they came from. Dani walked over to me.

“What did he say?”

“He was sorry.”

“He’s sorry? We just fucking killed his daughter.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Dani. We don’t judge these situations with hindsight. We judge them on how they appeared to us at the time. He kept coming.”

“So, you’re saying it’s his fault?”

“I guess. But that doesn’t make it right.”

No other vehicles approached us that night. We were switched out with another team and allowed to sleep for a few hours but we couldn’t.

Not after that.

7

We were on a hill overlooking the town, waiting for the order to move in. Abrams tanks and sniper teams have been working around the clock to soften up any enemy resistance.

“Hunter Two-One, you are cleared to move in. Be advised there may still be pockets of enemy resistance, over.”

“Roger that, Overlord. We’re Oscar Mike, out.”

I turn around and almost tell everyone to get moving until I see Rico saying a prayer for us.

Allen was doing lame tricks with a piece of grass and McKnight had a comically serious look on his face. I even let out a small chuckle when I saw him.

Dani was just sitting there. She’s not daydreaming or analyzing the terrain. She’s just staring.

Once Rico was finished, I kicked Dani and we all got moving. She wasn’t even startled by it.

We slowly walked through the town, along with an M2 Bradley. To our right was Baumer’s squad and in front of us was another. We were checking each other’s roofs and windows. Always vigilant, no matter where you are. I almost shot a cat.

Things went smoothly until we entered the shopping center and the squad in front of us was hit with machine gun fire. If it wasn’t for their misfortune, we wouldn’t have gotten behind the M2 in time.

“Hunter Two-Three, you got eyes on that Kraut stinger?”

“Hunter Two-One, MG fire came from the ground level of the clothing shop. We are pinned down, over.”

“Roger that. Rhino, Krauts are located in the clothing store at ground level. I want you to pull the trigger until they don’t get up.”

“Copy that, Two-One. It’ll be our pleasure.”

The rumble of M2’s autocannon was as intense as always. I could feel it shaking the ground through my thick combat boots. It was kind of fun being around them.

“Hunter Two-One, targets are down, over.”

“Roger that, Rhino. We’re moving up.”

We walked past the bodies of our fallen comrades. Nothing we can do for them.

“Overlord, this is Hunter Two-One, Hunter Two-Two is down. I repeat, complete squad wipe, over.”

“Roger that, Two-One. Proceed on mission, out.”

Scanning what’s left of the shop, we see some movement, then hear the zips and cracks of gunfire.

I took out two trying to flee. Dani took out one and McKnight got three. Once the pained screams and groans of the soldiers died down, we moved forward.

We searched the rubble for any other survivors and shot those that were still barely breathing. Two men emerged from the rubble with their hands in the air. One was holding a royal medallion. He was the son of a noble.

“Surrender! We give up!” he said.

“What did you say?” I replied in Japanese.

“Give up! No fight! We surrender!”

“What?”

“We surrender! We give up! We-”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to understand what you’re saying.”

Dani and I shot both of them.

“All right, defensive positions. Hole up until reinforcements get here.”

And with that… we waited for another two hours behind the debris of a fallen bell tower, checking the windows and alleyways five times over for hostiles.

Now it was Rico’s turn to complain.

“What is taking them so long? I’m sick of waiting.”

“They’re probably having a tea party,” Dani said. “Fuckin’ Brits.”

After a few more minutes, I began to get an uneasy feeling, like someone was carefully watching us from behind.

Looking up at the building the Bradley was parked in front of, my suspicions were confirmed.

In the window, almost directly above the IFV, was what looked to be a woman holding a locked and loaded Panzerfaust, just barely peeking out.

“Rhino! You got-”

Before I could finish, they were already engulfed in a deafening fireball. I immediately avenged them with five shots to where the woman stood.

Once again, before I could get two words out to my team, we were under heavy fire from the buildings directly behind us. A rocket soared just a few meters above my head.

McKnight and I vaulted over the debris just as a machine gun shot at where we once were. I could feel the vibrations from the rounds in the debris and in my legs. Everyone else dove into the building to the right of us. Peering into a large hole in the wall, everyone has gone prone.

We were all pinned down.

I cursed the British and 1st Division reinforcements for not arriving sooner and myself for not noticing anything unusual.

How could I have not anticipated something like this happening? Did my teammates distract me? No… It wasn’t their fault. It was never their fault. Everything that could go wrong on the battlefield is on me.

Before orders could be made to best handle this situation, I see McKnight’s rifle on the ground. Looking over, his hands are covering his face and he has curled up into a ball. Even with the roaring gunfire, his whimpers and cries were still very much audible.

I grabbed his shoulder and shook him while screaming his name into his ear, trying to get his attention.

“I can’t do it, Sergeant! I can’t! I can’t…”

“McKnight! Get your shit together and pick up your weapon!”

“Noooo!”

“Pick up your fucking weapon!”

“I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!”

“Get yourself out of the fucking ball and pick up your fucking weapon!”

“No! I can’t!”

“Pick up your-! What are you doing?! Keep your head down! Unf!”

He pushed my hand off his shoulder and punched me in the face. For a brief moment, I saw the fear in his eyes. McKnight let his fear control his actions and the next thing I saw was him falling to the ground.

For what felt like hours, we were pinned down by guerilla fighters, waiting for the right moment to return fire but it seemed to never come.

Before we knew it, an AH-64 Apache was hovering over our heads and firing missiles at the building threatening us. We rose from our cover and took out anyone we could get a clear shot on.

A German soldier ran out into the open and to try and fire another rocket from his Panzerfaust at the helicopter but we took him down before he could aim.

Once we were sure the area was clear, we moved over to check on McKnight. I was about to chastise him for acting like such an idiot but stopped myself when I saw half of the right side of his face missing.

Suddenly, I felt an uncontainable rage build up inside me and let it out against the person I thought was at fault.

“You dumb motherfucker! I told you to keep your fucking head down! If you-! If you… Damn it!”

It didn’t feel right to reprimand him but I also didn’t know if it was my fault or not. He let fear take over but maybe I should have done more to keep him calm. Nevertheless, it wasn’t the time to think about stuff like that.

I let myself breathe for a few seconds and ordered someone to place a tarp over him.

“We’ll come back for him later,” I said, still breathing rather heavily. “We’re Oscar Mike.”

I began to move away from the scene and noticed that everyone else seemed frozen. They were absolutely transfixed on McKnight’s body.

“We’re Oscar Mike!”

With that, everyone snapped to and followed my lead. Everything is as it was. All is the same. Only the Private known as Austin McKnight has died.

8

It happened just as I said it would. After McKnight died, we got a replacement and she died two days later. Now, we have another.

This year’s summer is gloomy and wet. It had not stopped raining for two weeks.

There are only a handful of us, the Old Breed, left in the ranks. Everyone else is either dead or mangled.

Some are spreading the rumor of peace negotiations in progress. If it proves to be a lie, then everything will return as it was. Everything will be the same except the last sparks of hope will die within many.

My spark died during an airfield raid.

I gave the order to move up and we charged through a hail of bullets and dodged artillery shells with mere luck. All around us our comrades fell and screamed for help but the mission remained unchanged. Every fiber of my being desperately wanted to turn around and help them but there was nothing I could do.

A shell landed close enough to me that I got sent flying into a crater filled with muddy water, losing my helmet in the process.

When I looked out, trying to find my team and understand the situation, I saw Dani. Through the dirt and rain, she was all I could see clearly and through the gunfire and explosions, she was the only one I could hear and she was silent.

Most of her lower body was gone but she must not have suffered long as her expression made it seem as if she was sleeping. Her face was calm, like she was glad the end had finally come.

Peace is coming soon, I believe it. Soon we will go home but that is all I have to say, for I feel nothing. The love of life, the warmth of home, the intoxication of a young heart and the strength of this experience do not find me.

If I returned home four years prior, I would have taken on every challenge that presented itself to me with youthful joy. Had I returned two years prior, maybe I would have adapted or just merely submit to the new world. If I return home now, I will be weary, burnt out, broken and without hope. The years will pass by and long before my hair grows grey, I will fall into ruin.

I stand up and move towards her.

Let me be riddled with bullets, let the artillery blow me to pieces. Unleash the men upon my body for I am already just a shell. They can take nothing more from me. I am so without hope that I can confront them all without fear. If there is a future for me in the new world, I have no desire for it. The one thing that kept me going has just died before me.

Then I was on the ground and everything faded to black.