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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1898855-Joeys-Story
Rated: · Short Story · Other · #1898855
Joey was tricked into joining the army. He tells his story in the Pacific and Norway.
I remember the night of October 4, 1942 like my own birthday. Robbie and I were at the Army Recruiting Center in the small town of Ludowici, Georgia. Sergeant Harold Washburn was at the desk when we entered the building. We were both hammered due to some stuff that Robbie cooked up in his cellar. After that, I remember signing some papers and saying some words, and accepted the Sergeant’s offer to sleep in the back, for both of our heads were starting to spin from Robbie’s moonshine. When we came to, he was on the phone and both of us felt like our heads were going to explode. Only then did we find out what we did the previous night. We left for boot camp the following day. This is where my story begins.

Chapter 1: Boot Camp
“Move your butts, you runts!” yells Sergeant Huxley as we reach the halfway point of our ten mile jog/sprint (more like a sprint but we do get short intervals where we are allowed to jog). “My grandmother can run faster than you and she’s in a wheelchair!” he says to those behind us. We have been keeping pace with him so we have been getting far fewer insults than those behind us. As we stumble across the finish line (we are at least a mile ahead of everyone else) he orders us to go back and get them across. As we cross for the second time, he announces that we are going to the mess hall and getting lunch and we will regroup at 1300 hours. As we are eating Robbie and I are having a discussion about when we will be shipped out to one of the theaters and which one we will be shipped out to. He says we will be shipped out with the rest of the grunts in our group and I say that we will go at the end of our twelve weeks which is three days from now. We now head to our barracks and meet our sergeant. We do not know what this meeting is about. As we take our spots on our bunks, he starts to talk, congratulating the unit on the success of the morning run. We have earned the rest of the day off, which brings a round of hearty cheers from the men. It is followed by several loud groans from them due to the soreness of their muscles from the morning run. He pulls us aside and tells us that we are due to be shipped out three days from now, which means two things. Thing#1 I am right and Robbie is wrong so I get bragging rights and #2We are going to be fighting the Japs! We spend the rest of our days at the barracks saying goodbye to our squad mates and log more hours on the range at the advisement of our sergeant. The night before we leave for the South Pacific neither Robbie nor I am able to sleep. We both are wondering the same thing; what will happen to us? Will we stabbed, shot, tortured, burned, blown up, or die of an illness? Or will we defy the odds and live?

Chapter 2: The Pacific
Rain. That is what we have been in for the past three weeks and we have not seen any of the enemy. Tanks are getting bogged down due to the mud, the men are getting malaria and other mosquito transmitted illnesses, and the heat is almost unbearable. It is made even worse with the humidity. Morale is low. We have been moving about a mile a day due to the mud. As we set up camp for the night, the officers are called to a meeting. After we are done eating, they come out of their tent with grim expressions on their faces. We are assembled for an announcement after the officer’s meeting concludes. Our commanding officer has called this meeting to tell us to start building fortifications around the camp. This stems from information from intelligence that a force of 30,000 men of the Japanese Imperial Army are coming our way and are expected to arrive tomorrow. This gets us moving due to the fact that we are only 10,000 strong which leaves outnumbered three to one. The following morning we are roused from our cots at 0500 hours due to the fact that the Japs are three hours away. Finally we are in our positions atop a high hill, waiting for the enemy to come charging out of the jungle. The tension is present among everyone, including our officers. Finally, at about 0800 hours our scouts spot movement about two miles away. We hear them as well as see them now and bring our M1 Garands to our shoulders and lay down. They start bursting through the tree line and I sight my first target but lose him in the sea of Japs charging up the hill so I start shooting into the wave, getting more hits than misses. Somehow they have reached the line and our charging into our trenches and I see Robbie jump into a crowd of Japs with his knife as I get taken down by one of them with a bayonet on his rifle. I eye him warily and notice he has a bandage on his leg and drop my rifle and go hand to hand and he does the same. We both land several solid blows, but in the end I have prevailed and subdued him, and he picks up his pistol and shoots himself, choosing suicide over being taken prisoner. I resume my position on the line and notice that the amount of enemies has greatly thinned out. I also see that Robbie is back on the line as well, sporting a bloody lip but otherwise unharmed. Then we hear the tanks coming and I run for a bazooka, while Robbie runs for some rockets. We have both trained for this. As Robbie slides the rocket into the bazooka, I sneak a glance at the state of the line, and what I see surprises me greatly. Instead of dead bodies everywhere, I see men tight on the line not letting anything get through to the equipment.
Suddenly I hear Robbie say” What are you waiting for? Peace? Blow the things up!” And I sight the closest tank to me. I look and lead it a little and fire! I hear an explosion and look up, finding that my shot hit its mark. And this goes on for hours. About when night comes the attacks start to die off. At sometime during the battle I see the flamethrower crew going out and start hearing screams. After they come back we start to smell burning leaves, trees, plants, and flesh. At about 2300 hours, we are relieved from our positions. After that I remember collapsing into my cot and nothing else. When we wake up, we are told it is 0900 hours and that the enemy has retreated far back into their base. We are also told we will pursue within the next week, depending on when the battleships get into place and when the bombers make their first run. We ask which units will be joining us.
The sergeant replies, “I’m pretty sure that we’ll get about five more divisions with us for the attack, but I haven’t heard which ones they are.”
I ask, “Isn’t five a little high for a small base? I mean, from what I heard from you it sounded like there was just the one we drove back.
Sergeant Guzzo replies “Yes and there is also another one holed up there, but there is an air field there we can use to launch attacks on the Manila, in the Philippines, so it has become Priority number one for this island.”
This is interrupted by a private rushing up to him and whispering something in his ear.
“Would you excuse me boys,” he says, “the brass chose to have a meeting right now and I’m invited. You are dismissed.”
As Robbie and I head to our quarters, we overhear on a radio that the U.S. has just started sending troops to Europe to go fight Shikelgruber (Adolf Hitler) and the rest of the ratzis. We both stop and listen to the brief bulletin that also includes the score for the Pirates- Cubs game at Forbes Field (my favorite), about our victory yesterday (which surprises us due to the fact that this is the fastest any of our victories have made it back to the States) a murder, and a bank robbery. Then the station switches back to music, and we continue toward our original destination.
“Well I think the government wrong to send troops in so early into Europe, when the action that directly affects America is here.” Robbie declares as we reach our bunks. We both lay down, not out of tiredness but of fatigue. I do not remember closing my eyes, but when I open them I see Robbie and another squad mate, Neil, sitting at their bunks eating some rations.
“We must have done well yesterday, ‘because they gave everyone in the camp double rations for the next three days”, Robbie is saying.
When he sees me moving he gets up and hands me a tray.
“I figured I’d let you sleep because you needed it and you were dead to the world. I brought you some food though.” says Robbie. “In other news, I was told that it is possible that we could get transferred to the European front to fight in Norway. Not likely, but possible. Guess we fought so good that the generals decided that it would give the Japs a fighting chance in losing with honor. ”
I laugh it off at first; not realizing the Norway would be where my story ends.







Chapter 3: Norway
We are walking quietly through the snow, so as not to alert the Germans nearby. We are part of a special commando unit tasked with destroying the railroad bridges leading to a plant that is currently supplying weapons and ammo to all the axis forces in Norway. We are made up of three Americans, three British, and two Resistance fighters who serve as our guides and reconnaissance. As we near the first bridge which, as you might guess, is heavily guarded by German fighters. What is unusual is the fact that they are not really protecting the bridge, just sort of milling around it. I immediately look at one of our guides, Jarl, and ask him what is going on.
In broken English, he replies “I not hear of anything causing the rats to act like this. Perhaps they think that we not bother anymore. It is unlike anything I have seen before, though.”
“Alright lads, listen up.” says Jetson, the leader of our squad. “The Germans are in groups of three at twenty feet intervals. Snap on your silencers and go to each side and work in. Oh, lads? One more thing. When you shoot make sure you are at close range and that you do not miss for obvious reasons.”
He is telling us this because if we miss our mark and the round goes wild, the Germans would be on us faster than you can dial 911. I head with Robbie to the more crucial side of the bridge and down my first target with one shot. And so it goes on for about ten minutes, and when we are done the snow is stained red. As we finish planting the charges, we hear laughter and shouting in German. Knowing what this means, we hightail it out of there. As we retreat, I catch a glimpse of the commanding officer. He looks strangely familiar. As I turn to ask Robbie, I can tell he is thinking the same thing. We both leave, telling our squad we need a bathroom break. As we go, we double back to the German encampment. We sneak closer, and as we do, we get a good look at the commanding officer of the Germans. We realize that this face is familiar because it belonged to the same man who had taken advantage of us back home and got us shipped here. I am so angry at this man for not only taking advantage of but defecting to the enemy and (most likely) giving information to the Germans about the American infrastructure and how to penetrate it. As Robbie and I both rush out of the bushes, we yell a tremendous battle cry an attack! As we reach the rat he sees us and runs like the little coward he is. But I get to him first and slit his throat open in a bright red smile. I am rewarded by the burst of blood spraying the Nazi soldiers opposite of us. They recover and open fire. I feel a searing pain in my gut and my shoulder. I look back and see Robbie standing there. That is when I notice the dime-sized hole in his forehead. Before I can utter a single word, he drops to the now red colored snow and lies there. I am shoved to the ground where I am handcuffed and blindfolded. When they take the blindfold off, I hear and smell the sounds of human misery. The bullets in my stomach and shoulder are removed. As soon as I can walk, I am shoved into a small room with at least thirty other men. I hear a mixture of Yiddish, English, and German. I ask the guy next to me what is going on. All I get in reply is this.
“We’ll never see daylight again. They say that they are taking you for a shower, but no one ever comes back. We are about to meet our maker.”
As he finishes his statement, I hear a bolt coming down. This causes the man I was conversing with to lose his mind. As he throws himself against the door, I hear a valve being opened and gas coming in. Everyone now (including myself) is trying to escape. As we do so, those farthest from the door begin to collapse and convulse. I take my first breath and can taste the gas as it enters my lungs. Suddenly, I fall and lose control over my body. After that there is only darkness.


The End.
© Copyright 2012 Rick Jones (rschlegel71798 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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