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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1773620-Hell-on-Earth
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · War · #1773620
A simple, short story paying respect to those who fought in the USMC during WWII.
Hell on Earth

During that faithful day, all hell broke loose, and we sat and watched; everyman who lived afterward would be humbled for life. Things started normal, better than normal actually; we landed our boats and cargo into the by, with no signs of life. While a majority of the U.S. Marines unpacked our gear, my unit was tasked with recon of the Japanese island: Iwo Jima. The gunnery sergeant yelled loudly to call us into formation, no one squelched at his gruff tone; this far into the war everyone was desensitized to violence, a mere man yelling was nothing. As we marched into the jungle the nervous troops whispered among themselves to calm any ambivalence. The man next to me: PFC Ribsby, was telling me about his girlfriend back home; and how he planned on marrying her as soon as he got back. I smiled bleakly as he lolled on, in truth I didn't care. I was worried more about my well being, than his pending wife.

As an hour drooped by, and no signs of anyone had shown yet; my nerves were shot. I gripped my M1 Garand with sweaty calloused hands, which were laced with dirt; hoping the sergeant would send everyone back. However he would never get the chance, as a 7.7x5.8mm Arisaka bullet emerged from the depths of the jungle and ended the man's life. Mid thirties, wife, two or three kids, Christian type, dead, his family along with countless others in the hours to come, would be mourning. The sergeant's brain matter flew backwards, covering his subordinates in a stew like liquid; everyone dove for the ground. My eyes stained in horror as I viewed my sergeant's cranial anatomy. A fearful tear grew in my eye; I quickly lay down on the mucky jungle floor. All was silent, except for the echo of the shot ringing in my ears; despite the fact, the shot had happened almost a minute earlier. My breathing slowed to a pace conveyed in many proverbs.

The silence was smashed with Type99 fire, spewing hot lead in our direction. I heard the painful screams of my brethern literally biting the bullet. I couldn't see anything, or hear anything for that matter; I watched helplessly as my friends died. I covered my exposed neck with my hands and shoved my face into the ground, hoping not to catch a stray round. I was jolted out of my cowardice, when a body collapsed on me. I looked quickly to see it was Ribsby's lifeless corpse. I gazed into his void eyes, and then at a droplet of blood trickling from his lips; lips that less than an hour ago were pleading to me for security, and I had denied him. I finally shook of the shell shock, and picked up my rifle; I carefully hoisted myself up on my elbows, and aimed my rifle out of the tall, muddy grass I was in. Despite the loud explosions, I managed to concentrate enough to pop off five shots, killing two kamikaze Japanese soldiers. My heart pinged, even after all the lives I've killed, I still wasn't used to it.

Then out of a grassy knoll to our left flank, a small battalion of Japanese fanatics leaped from their hiding spot, bearing camo suits, as they rushed our position, wielding bayonets. The marines closest to the grassy hill were caught by surpise, and succumbed quickly to the adrenalized enemy. Screams followed. I quickly turned to my left to counter the threat. Only three rounds popped out of my rifle, before I realized my bandoleer was empty. My heart raced unnaturally as I quickly scavenged my pack for another, and hastily shoved it into my rifle. I nearly managed to turn in time to shoot the oncoming suicidal warriors, I squeezed the trigger just in time; the Japs' innards erupted and sprayed everywhere and covered my face in bits of colon. My teeth chattered a bit, as i wiped juicy chunks of another man's rectum off my face, and soaked in the horror of my actions. As I did so, rumbling roared from above, as incoming U.S. Bombers rained terror on our enemies. I cringed as I heard the seemingly infintile screams of the enemy and watched them burn to death. I closed my eyes in exasperation, praying to the God of the universe which I had neglected all my life. Little did I know that hese events would change me for the rest of my life, scaring my relationship with society forever. After I had shaken off the horror of war once more, I proceeded to Ribsby's body and felt around for his dog tag; which I regrettably removed an put in my pack. It was the least I could do.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1773620-Hell-on-Earth