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Joey sat in the trench, moonlight splashed across his face. He clutched his rifle to his chest in the semidarkness. He thought about all of the men and women he had met, and how they gave their lives for their country. Joey closed his eyes and thought about how far he had come. He was shot in the leg in the last push. This time, he may not be so lucky. He pulled out the picture of the girl he left when he enlisted, wishing that he had one more chance to say goodbye.
Joey heard the commander's whistle; it was time to move. He pocketed the picture. Joey pulled himself out of the trench, and into enemy territory. The sound of gunshots were deafening, the only thing that could be heard above it was the screams of soldiers being torn apart by machine-gun fire. Every time Joey blinked, he saw her face, and remembered why he enlisted; he had to make this world safe, for her.
As the machine gun turned towards him, he hid behind a building. The woman next to him wasn’t fast enough. Blood splattered onto Joey’s face and uniform, her scream pierced my ears. She was not the first civilian casualty, nor was she the last. Now was not the time to mourn the loss. He yanked the pin from a grenade and threw it at the machine-gun nest. With a loud ‘boom,’ the nest exploded, sending shrapnel through the air.
He moved an enemy soldier away from a small hole at the base of the wall behind where the machine-gun nest used to be. As he crawled through the hole, someone fired an explosive at the wall. It exploded to his left, far too close for him to escape unscathed. It burned the side of his face. Joey fired at his assailant, knocking the enemy off of his feet. A smile pulled at the uninjured corner of Joey’s mouth.
He heard the sound of a radio, and looked around the corner. He saw a man in front of the radio with a headset on, and a handgun pointed at Joey’s face. His eyes widened as he pulled back around the corner. He heard the ‘poosh, poosh,’ of the silenced magnum, and saw two bullet-holes appear on the wall opposite the firer. Joey laid down on his stomach, and crawled around the corner. He capped the enemy soldier with a single bullet, and then stood up again. He smashed the radio, preventing the enemy from contacting help. Joey saw a door to his right. He opened it a little, pulled the pin from another grenade, placed it down next to the door, closed it, and ran for cover.
The blast knocked the door off of its hinges. Joey walked into the doorway, confident that it was safe to do so. ‘Poosh,’ then Joey screamed as he clutched his arm. He aimed his rifle one-handed and fired back at the shooter once, then twice, and then a third time. The first two missed, but the third was true to its target.
Joey looked out of a window; he saw the enemy flag lowering. After a few minutes, a white flag was rippling in the air, half concealed, half disclosed. “We won?” Joey asked softly. “We won!” he shouted, joy lit up his face. After three weeks, they had finally claimed the city in the name of the Allied Forces.
- by Nycholas Flamel |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 07/15/2009 |
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- Title: A Short War Story
- Artist: Nycholas Flamel
- Description: I was playing a war game (I won't name it, but you could imagine.) And then I just started writting this. I hope you guys like it!
- Date: 07/15/2009
- Tags: warfare
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Comments (2 Comments)
- The Dark Doom Angel - 07/18/2009
- wooot great story
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- xxdead_babiesxx - 07/17/2009
- wow that was amazing!
- Report As Spam