[ WP ] WWII somehow continued uninterrupted until the present day , you are a soldier just now entering the front lines .

I feel numb. 
 
 
 The hand holding my gun is shaking, badly. I keep looking at it, wondering when it was going to stop. Mom was sobbing this morning, kissing my face over and over as they pulled me away from her. Her voice broke when she told me I was a good kid and that she wanted me to be brave. I did n't feel brave. I looked up, glancing at the other guys in the crowded ship. Their faces were pale too, but maybe that was just the flickering light overhead. I thought about my brother then, and a sharp pang went through me at the thought of his laughing face. Charlie loved to laugh. He was always tossing me in the air or carrying me around on his back before he was dragged into this same hellhole that I'm in now. The memory of his leaving was like a jagged wound, still raw. He was smiling as he left, assuring me that the newest technology would mean the war ended soon. 
 
 
 His body was delivered to our doorstep a month later. 
 The man in black who knocked on our door said, `` Consider yourselves lucky to be getting a body back at all. Usually we just have to send a flag and our condolences. Your brother had some good friends over there who retrieved his body for you.'' Did I mention that the flag-making industry is booming? My brother used to smell like soap and sunshine but now I can only remember the smell of fresh dirt as we buried him under the maple tree in the backyard, next to Dad and my oldest brother Eric. 
 
 The crashing of the waves sounded louder in the hull. I glanced up and fear squeezed my heart. The door was opening and boats were being lowered into the water. I looked over at the guys in my group, wondering how the boys I'd been training with the past couple of months would handle this- our first glimpse of true combat. Anthony was sobbing, repeating his Hail Mary's and Our Fathers as he clutched his crucifix. Michael was smiling, his eyes kind of crazed. But Michael was kind of crazed, you know? I heard he lost six brothers and two cousins to this already. He had told everyone at training that he was ready to gut some Germans as he sharpened his knife and laughed quietly to himself. Henry was staring at me, and I was sure that his same terrified look was on my face. There was shouting all around us, and we operated how we had been trained to get our little boat into the water. Screams and shells and chaos erupted as we emerged from the massive ship and headed toward the beach. There were bullets flying everywhere, and the yells as man after man was hit. My group, amazingly, was silent as we struck out for the beach. A whizzing sound zoomed past my ear before I heard an awful crunching noise and a groan. I looked back to see Henry clutching at his neck, blood running down between his fingers. 
 
 
 We kept on, no time for looking at each other or trying to save Henry. Our boat barely made it to the beach before we ran for cover. The Germans had a good position but we would have air support in minutes. 
 
 `` Be brave Christopher,'' Mom had whispered to me as she hugged me one last time. She'd smelled of cookies and warmth and home. I angrily swiped at the tears in my eyes, trying to see where the bullets were raining down from. I finally saw the faintest form of pink up on the overhang. I lifted my gun, cocked it, and shot at what I was sure was a human. The gun from that position stopped firing after I squeezed my finger. I collapsed behind a rock, trying to ignore Michael as he gleefully clapped me on the shoulder and screamed his joy in my ear. My heart pounded hard in my chest, so hard I was sure it was going to stop soon. I was fairly certain I'd just taken a life. 
 
 
 And so it goes. We exchanged fire with the Germans throughout the day. My grandfather died in this war, on this very battlefield. They always said D-Day was supposed to be a turning point in the war. Instead we had ended up battling over France for so long that I had lost my father and brothers to this same nightmare. They were running out of men for a while, so women were even operating as soldiers for a while in the'80s. Mom served for a couple of years, which is why I'd woken up to hear screams throughout my childhood. Mom was always trying to hide the fact that she had sons. She did n't want us to go, but they always find out. You help out in the factories or farms until you're 16 and then they take you away for training for a year and then you're expected to die for your country. 
 
 From what I hear, the Japenese are finally out of the fight. I heard that the Russians had conquered the entire island, slaughtering all those who resisted. But they felt like they had done their part so they had stopped fighting now. They owned most of China, most of Japan, and some of the surrounding islands. The British were a rare sight to see on the battlefield these days. Thousands of them had died in the Battle of Belgium on October 8th, 1998. My brother died there too. I thought about him as the sound of gunfire drifted into silence at last as the stars began to emerge overhead. 
 
 
 I stared upward, wondering what life would have been like if the war had ended in my Grandfather's time. What would people be like today? This War to End All Wars was neverending. Charlie would have told me to keep my chin up or to focus on the positive- like that the Americans had developed some new technology they were calling the Manhattan Project. But it did n't matter. Charlie was a fucking naive idiot, was n't he? I loved my brother but his laughter did n't belong in this dark place. Those stars overhead had witnessed so much bloodshed. Michael giggled next to me in his sleep, whispering something about collecting ears. Anthony was clutching his leg and rocking back and forth. Henry was at the bottom of the sea, another body to add to the count. Soon the smell hit me and I tried to be quiet as I retched. I could smell the coppery scent of blood and the stench of bodies around me. They warned us of the smell at training. They explained that when the intestines were split they could smell horrible. It was all so matter-of-fact. My hands were still shaking on my gun. I still felt numb. 
 
 
 We were n't even in control of our destiny anymore. You knew you were sent out here to die. It was simply a matter of where and how. The best death would be saving a friend or perhaps a clean shot. I thought about standing up and letting a bullet pierce my head for a while. I could choose that death at least. Plenty of guys did that. They did n't want to battle anymore. But I'd go on. I'd be brave, for Mom. And for George, my little brother.
