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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/641681-When-Duty-Calls
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · War · #641681
When duty calls, who will answer? A story about two brothers in WW2.
It was only seven months ago that Jimmy and his identical twin brother, Peter, had left for basic training camp. Both of them enlisted with the army for the same reasons. The two predominant being, to stop Hitler's war machine and to avenge the death of their older brother- Thomas.

Thomas was twenty-three when he was shipped off in November of 1942. He had been eight years their senior. He was still their idol, even though he had been dead for a year. They still could not hold back the tears when his silver star came into their vision. The Germans would pay.

On the day they were to leave for basic training camp, at the age of eighteen, their Mother and younger sister, Joline, sobbed uncontrollably. Their Father hugged each of them and told them, "Always remember the past, because it is all your own. Anyone can take away your future, but no one your past. Do your family proud boys, do Thomas proud."

Their Father had been a combatant in the first World War. He had been warring in France, where he met the mother of his children. After the war he brought her back to his home state of Texas, where the family currently resides.

Although Jimmy and Peter were very close to Thomas, nothing compared to the bond the two shared with each other. They made promises that they would always be best friends and neighbors; even after they were both married. Of course marriage was not really entering their minds much, just coming out of high school and with Thomas's death- no murder- on their mind's.

Training camp was not too bad, aside from the food. It did not matter how much their sergeants pushed them, they would not give up- Thomas's memory wouldn't allow it. With that thought they persevered. Both were considered, by their commanding officer's, to be exceptional soldiers.

That opinion did not waiver as they were assigned to the 4th Infantry Division, Thomas's division. They were shipped to France. There they saw the gory sight of D-day; although they arrived a day after the initial landing. For two days they did nothing but listen to combat stories and visit the places where the most violent skirmishes had been fought. On June 9 they were assigned to the twenty-second Infantry Regiment of the fourth Infantry Division, Thomas's regiment.

They and several other soldiers, most undertrained recruits, reported to Colonel Hawkins; the commanding officer of the service company. He led them to some swamps close to Carenten, France; where regiment headquarters was located. There they were met by another officer who proceeded to assign them to various battalions.

Jimmy, Peter, and about a hundred other men were assigned to second Battalion, and about one-fourth of those accompanied them to E Company. They were further assigned to third platoon, under Lieutenant Plume.

July 13 they got their first taste of combat, Peter getting his first kill.

Staring down from the second story of the war torn house, Peter kept his eyes peeled. They had been told that Kraut resistance groups were in heavy numbers in this section of the field.

Looking out along the hedgerow, he searched for sign of Jimmy. There he was, behind the body of the dead cow. Jimmy made eye contact with him, and they nodded to each other.

The Germans should have attacked by now, if they were here. Intelligence had stated that a platoon of Germans were marching to this very spot. Third and fourth platoon were assigned to ambush them.

Checking his Thompson, Peter reassured himself that he was not nervous. Again he took to examining the hedgerows, waiting for the Krauts.

Suddenly a grenade exploded, and about forty Germans poured over the hedgerow. The screaming Nazis were closing the twenty yard gap between hedgerow and farmhouse very quickly.

A Brunette German ran right under Peter's window. Aiming, Peter pulled the trigger spraying the Kraut with bullets. The mans blood saturated the ground. He had been nearly sawed in two.

Staring in shock, Peter nearly cried. Killing his first man was not all he had thought it would be. The fact that the man was German did not console him. Looking for Jimmy again, Peter prayed that Jimmy did not have to go through what he just was going through.

When the Germans had exploded, screaming, over the hedgerow; Jimmy tried to keep control over his bladder. These men were desperate for the food in the house; desperate enough to run right past him and several other men. Raising his Garand, he fired a few rounds at the Kraut flank. None of his poorly placed shots hit anything but air.

The Krauts were now backed up against the house; trying to get in. After a few futile tries to push their way in, the Nazis turned around and began to throw stick grenades in his direction.

The man next to him took a bullet in the head, and was torn apart as he fell upon a grenade that would have surely killed Jimmy. Feeling a bit dazed at his first sight of combat, Jimmy jumped to the other side of the hedgerow. It was always good to have cover; at least cover that was sturdier than a cow.

Peter watched, feeling as if in a horrible dream, as the last of the Germans were finished off. Well not the last, a few had given up.

The Nazi's were still putting up rather fierce resistance else where, and Jimmy and Peter were both lucky to have survived their first encounter.

Through the next several months their Division moved through France to the Siegfried Line. The twenty-second Infantry Regiment saw much combat including the Saint-Lo breakthrough. Peter was awarded both a Bronze Star, for tracking down an enemy sniper at the risk of his life, and a Silver Star, for storming a machine gun nest and killing seven German gunners. Jimmy also showed bravery during combat, though not to the extent that Peter had gone, and was promoted to corporal.

By November, the fourth was entering Hurtgen Forest, in northwest Germany. It was beginning to reach freezing temperatures, many men were suffering from trench foot, a condition where lack of blood circulation is the root of the problem.

November 17, 1944 Jimmy and Peter's squad had scouting duty. The sun was beginning to set, and although it was red, it seemed to provide no heat. Clutching his M1 Garand in his hands, Jimmy kept his eyes glued to the ground, searching for mines. Suddenly a burst of fire from an STG 44 filled his ears, two men dropped dead. One of the dead was Sergeant Karson. That put Jimmy in charge, him being the only squad member higher than private. Dropping to the prone position, taking cover behind a fallen tree of which there seemed to be many- probably because of German artillery, He yelled for the men to drop and find cover.

Peeking his head above the top of the fallen tree's still green trunk, he tried to analyze the situation. There seemed to be about thirty Krauts, though it was probably closer to twenty. They were trying to flank his squad. Raising his Garand he fired two rounds at a German officer, and yelled for the men to form a perimeter.

Watching the German officer crumple to his knees, holding his chest, Jimmy targeted another Nazi. The bullet penetrated his head like it would a watermelon. There were too many; he only had about four men left including himself and Peter.

The Germans kept advancing, though their number had been cut in half. Peter rose to his knees, emptying his third Thompson clip. Three Krauts fell in his path as he rose to his feet, and ran towards the remaining few. God, what was he thinking. He would surely get himself killed.

Jimmy raised his M1, bayonet fixed, and charged. He emptied his remaining three rounds in the first two German's he saw. Dropping to his knees, he pulled out another clip and slammed it into his rifle, he looked up just in time to see Peter get forced to the ground by a Gewehr 43 bullet entering his abdomen. Screaming, Jimmy launched himself the remaining few yards to two Nazi's positions.

Firing two shots, both penetrating a blond haired German's chest, Jimmy thrust his bayonet into another's stomach, firing another two shots. At this time the two other squad members jumped up running and firing upon the last German, who fell like a rag doll.

Reaching Peter's crumpled body Jimmy stared in horror. He couldn't be dead, not Peter.

"Peter, Peter wake up. Come on open your eyes!" Jimmy screeched frantically. "Please Peter, wake up!"

Peter's eyes shot open, his mouth trying to move.

"Jimmy, is that you?" he asked dazedly. "Do you have any morphine? I could really use some."

Jimmy's heart sank. When a soldier asked for morphine that calmly, it usually meant death was near. He began to sob.

"Come on Peter, hold on. Here's some morphine. Are you sure you need it?" Jimmy asked, trying to hold back the tears and keep a brave face for his brother.

"Jimmy, tell Daddy I did the family proud, that I died for my country, that I died for my brother's."

Jimmy was reduced to tears, no longer trying to stop them.

"You won't die!" he wailed. "You can't die!"

Peter looked up at Jimmy, his blue eyes smiling.

"I did my duty, I avenged Thomas."

With those words Peter smiled one last time. Staring in agony at his dead twin's smiling face, Peter's last words echoing in his head. Thomas's death had broken his heart, Peter's had torn the entire core of his being. What was life without his twin?

The two privates helped him up and guided him back to camp. A few hours later, in the aid station, Jimmy died of shock.

The United States of America awarded both Jimmy and Peter the Distinguished Service Cross, the and the Army Commedation Medal: for their exploits that cold November day. Their parents received their medals along with their death notices. A note attached to Jimmy's said, "we did the family proud, Daddy. We did our duty, we avenged Thomas."


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I'm proud to be an American where at least I know I'm free,
and I won't forget the men who died to give that right to me.
And I'll gladly stand up next to you and proclaim here still today there ain't no doubt I love this land, God bless the U.S.A.

- My favorite song
© Copyright 2003 Pax will not be on here! (mitjo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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