That evening, my parents had a fight. It had been a particularly nasty fight about things I did not understand. We were having supper when the shouting began. Then Mom ran off in tears and Dad finished eating with us… Continue Reading
Second Lieutenant Edwin Elston led the remaining boys in his platoon to a small clearing within twenty yards of a concrete bunker along the northern edge of the Siegfried line. Elston didn’t need to order them to take any cover… Continue Reading
Harris knew his life was over as soon I tapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got something to say to you.” “Why me? Why now? I’ve written all my letters, sent all my mail, said all my prayers.” “I don’t… Continue Reading
“It was humid and stuffy inside the Magach tank that sat on the ridge of Golan Heights, where rocky hills separate Israel from Syria. Abraham sat beside me, cleaning dust off his specs with a piece of cloth; they were… Continue Reading
The smoke from mortar fire mixed with fog hung low over the trenches. Heinrich trod the planks over the mud, hands wrapped in rags, rifle slung over one shoulder. Night was falling on the broken and burnt field between him… Continue Reading
They would have said it was divine justice. For what we did. Sitting in an armchair far away, playing games, while their blood gushed onto the sand. But what happened to Kathy…. If that was karma, some god had tipped… Continue Reading
Hikaru squats on his ankles in the mouth of the furnace. Moisture steams from his body. Sweat distills into salt stains on his shirt. A square of fabric is tied around his head and tucked into a roll in lieu… Continue Reading
INCOMING. INCOMING. INCOMING, said Giant Voice. PFC Tullis made himself small in the low-slung concrete bunker alongside the 105mm howitzer position on the eastern edge of the FOB and prayed Lord Jesus please get me out of this country alive.… Continue Reading
The priest stood knee-deep in the shallow water of the bay, watching his town burn. He’d been awakened by the guns at dawn, forced to flee soon after. It was late afternoon but still they blazed on, though the siege… Continue Reading
The mournful wailing froze Conn O’Neill’s blood, as it always did. People said the sound the stuka dive-bombers made came from sirens the Germans fitted to their planes. Well, maybe. But Conn, fighting for Allied forces in northern France, knew… Continue Reading