Sitting on the grimy cliff, Jeremy stared out at the waves dabbing at the earthen soil beneath the sand. His eyes watered, breaking the grim expression on his face. Water seeped into his tattered military uniform, smudging the ink upon his name plate. His ugly scars and well-built body made him look strong and sturdy but inside, it was a little boy quivering and crying for his lost candy.
“How could I lose him?” Jeremy wept in anguish. The waves seemed to respond to him by crashing against the jagged rocks with a loud splat. At last, after a few minutes, his expression hardened as he lay back down as if in penance. His eyes stopped twitching and his face became calm as he became immersed in the last moments he had spent with Joshua, his best friend.
WHOOSH! BAM! A missile whistled past Jeremy.
“SQUADRON, ADVANCE!” Captain Miller bellowed, as a group of soldiers rushed forwards to brave the tsunami of bullets. Few fell, others kept on moving. Gunshots echoed, while the pungent smell of blood drifted into the soldiers’ noses. Meanwhile, Jeremy felt along the tangerine clay, trying to detect a good place to annihilate the Germans with his secret weapon—a macho machine gun equipped with 360p and 100 shots per second.
“Jeremy, how much longer?” a crackling voice urged on his static mini-radio.
“Just a few more minutes, Joshua, I- ” Jeremy was reporting as he heard a loud and clean gunshot over his radio.
He heard screams of panic and a lot of people rushing to Joshua.
Why are they rushing to him? Wait! Horrible realisation struck him as he peeked above the clay wall and saw blood soaking his best friend’s chest.
“NOOOO!!!” Jeremy bellowed with such anguish and anger that the battlefield shook as if it were feeling the vigorous blood soaking into it.
Revealing his position, he started firing the machine gun with immense anger. He killed each standing enemy, but even the gun’s power was tenuous. As the gun ran out of bullets, Jeremy had to lie down and scrape his way to avoid death from blasting him. Behind him, several explosions shook the place as he tripped, hit a rock and received a concussion.
His memory shapeshifted as his mind took control of him. His fuzzy brain went to the funeral of Joshua Gashner. Soldiers gave speeches about the brave man but Jeremy’s tears had blocked out his hearing.
The only thing he heard was, “The brave man lived from 1920 to 1949 and his death was not in vain.” The funeral went the way normal martyrs are given respect.
“To Joshua Gashner, bravest of Captains!”
Gasping, Jeremy sat up, glad to be free of his memories. He got up, toughened his mind and walked away, knowing that someday, he would be lying in a coffin.
