My Sad Story

Joe walked gloomily to the door. "Hello," he said.

"Hello," said the man at the door, in a stern, military voice, "I'm looking for Joe and Bob Smith."

"I'm Joe, my brother is coming," muttered Joe. Bob shuffled up to the doorway.

"Good! Here are your recruitment packages," the man said cheerfully, "Be at Pyongyang base on Tuesday at 12:00."

The brothers slowly walked back into the kitchen to finish their dinner. As soon as they got to the table, their parents could tell who had been at the door by the grave expressions on their son's faces. Joe and Bob opened their envelopes and started reading the papers that they had received.

"Where are you going?" inquired Bob.

"Lubsko, Poland," Joe gloomily replied, "I think its occupied by the Russians. I'm signed up as a foot soldier."

"I'm going to Pearl Harbor in Oahu, Hawaii. I hear it's the best stronghold against the Japanese," Bob stated with a scrap of optimism.

Joe and Bob went to bed that night in indefinable agony knowing that they would be separated in less than a week.

The next day, their agony was relieved slightly when the telephone began ringing. They shuffled down the stairs with their eyes on the ground, still remembering the events of the previous day. Bob reached for the telephone and in a dull, depressing voice said, "Hello."

"Hello Bob," said an equally uninterestingly dull voice, "This is Kyle. Where are you and Joe going?"

"I'm going to Pearl Harbor and Joe is going to Lubsko, Poland," stated Bob without expression.

The voice at the other end of the line said, this time with a hint of happiness, "I'm going to Lubsko too!"

With that, the line went dead.

As every one loaded onto the transports the next Tuesday, Joe was herded onto a bomber. Kyle was in a different transport, so Joe was all alone. Everyone in the plane had the same gloomy, vacant expression on their faces. Joe was reminded of his mother, how every morning at about this time, she would lovingly wake him and Bob. She would have them eat breakfast, and hustle them off to work. They would kiss her good bye and have a wonderful day at the office. Joe's thoughts abruptly came to an end. Thinking of such wonderful memories was tormenting. He wallowed in agony for the next day on the horrendous, soiled plane in that atmosphere of despair.

Once Joe got to Lubsko, he began an intense training program. Sleeping in cramped quarters eating only minimum rations, he began to think less and less about his brother Bob. Him and Kyle began to grow more distant but he and Kyle both treasured their past friendship.

One day Joe was called to the post office. He got a package from home. In his despairing tormented state, he gloomily walked back to his cot. He opened the package and smelt the sweet smell of oatmeal cookies. He heard Kyle beckon him from the doorway. He walked over. Kyle was about to ask him something when he yelled out and turned the cot. Joe turned around and saw a stray dog digging through his package from home. Joe fainted.

When Joe awoke, he found himself in his cot, the box from home and its contents scattered beside him. He turned to see what was left the oatmeal cookies were eaten. Joe picked up the remains of a letter:

Dear Joe,
I hope that you are having a good time in Lubsko. How is Poland? Have you had a chance to travel and enjoy the country?
I just sent you this package to remind you how much I love you and I sent the cookies as a birthday present. Enjoy them. They are the special type that you and Bob so dearly loved when you were younger.
I also sent you a pair of arms traced on paper, so that I can give you a paper hug. I love you dearly and cherish that day that you will come back home.
All my love,
Mom

Joe looked to his side and saw a chewed up strip of paper. Barely recognizable on the pulp was a hand, drawn in pink crayon. Joe wept bitterly.

Bob walked out of his small tent in Oahu to see a beautiful 5 o'clock sunrise. This was a good day. Any other day he would survive hours of anxiety and stress practicing drill, then he would strenuously be pushed to the limits of his physical abilities for hours. After that he would have 10 minutes for dinner and he would march for the rest of the day. Today, though, he had a free day. He decided that today he would take a hike.

Bob walked for hours enjoying the beautiful scenery. He walked over to a volcano and sat there for at least an hour contemplating its marvelous power. He walked through lush rainforests looking at luxuriantly colored tropical birds of beautiful hues. He was walking back to the base for a delicious relaxing meal.

As he was walking by the hospital, he contemplated its beautiful Victorian architecture. A doctor was walking out of the building and Bob greeted him. Without looking down, he felt something blocking his foot. He lightly kicked it out of the way. He decided that he was going to go to the post office. Then he felt a pain in his ankle. He looked down to find that the thing he had kicked aside was a viper, now with its fangs embedded in his ankle and injecting its murderous venom into his blood stream. Bob panicked. He ran towards the hospital steps and tripped. He lay sprawled on the floor, trying to throw the viper off his ankle. Everything was becoming dark. He struggled towards the hospital doors.

Bob awoke later to find a nurse sitting by his bedside.

"Where am I," Bob struggled to say. He felt so weak.

The nurse replied, "The hospital. Dr. Wambera is getting the operating systems ready. We have to operate to save you. You might not make it. This operation has never been done and is just a hypothesis."

Bob nodded and dropped off again.

The next thing that Bob remembered was waking up in a hospital bed. He saw a nurse carting away a body. Probably a dead one. Bob shuddered. He saw the nurse taking off some disposable gloves and approaching him.

"You made it," she said in a relieved, though amazed tone, "We made a few mistakes, so you will be here for the next week. Here, you had a letter at the post office. Maybe it will cheer you up." With that the nurse handed him a letter and walked away.

Bob examined the letter. I was from Sarah, the girl that he had loved all his life. Before he left for the war they had been dating. "Ah..." he thought in a relaxed, happy way. He felt much better now. He opened the letter:

Dear Bob,
Hello! I hope that you are healthy and well. I would just like to tell you that while you were gone I met this wonderful guy named Sean. He is so handsome, smart, and nice. I just want to tell you that we're getting married on the 12th. Wish you could be there.
Love,
Sarah

The warm feeling immediately left Bob's soul. It was replaced by an agony too deep to describe. He sat there stunned. He didn't move, talk, or eat for days.

In Lubsko, everyone was formed up for a special parade. Joe was standing at attention wondering what was happening. A lieutenant general walked onto the parade square.

"Men, we are going to attack Dresden," he stated.

Joe was stood there. This would be the first time that he had ever fought in the war. He trembled inside thinking about the carnage and destruction of war. Then he was dismissed.

He marched back to his small cot and gloomily picked up his extra uniform. He sighed and looked back at his cot, glad to leave it, though a nagging thought in the back of his head told him this might be the last time that he would ever see it.

At dinner, Kyle and Joe talked about where they would be attacking in Dresden.

"I hear that it's going to be a complete air raid," Kyle stated, "I'm taking a fighter incase the Germans fight back."

"I am too," said Joe, "I'm a gunner in one of the planes"

Their dinner was abruptly ended when a bell rang, signifying bed time. Usually they would march, but they needed their strength for the air raid the next day.

As the next day approached, everyone was loaded into planes. Luckily, Dresden was only a short distance to the west. Joe didn't bother trying to start a conversation with the pilot. He seemed about a despairing as everyone else. He watched as his plane took off into the dark, dull, dusky sky.

After an hour of flying, he began to get tired. He wished that he was at home. He had a nice, big bedroom and a soft, soft bed. He would finish supper, and rush up the stairs to try to get ready for bed before Mary and Bob. If he was lucky, his father would come in and read him nursery rhymes. In fact, his mother was walking over to bid him goodnight now...

His dream was interrupted when the radio crackled to life. "Squad 2, circle around the east side of the city," the radio said. His pilot banked.

Once they got to the east side of the city, they began flying low and patrolling the streets from above.

Occasionally, a brave civilian would shoot at a plane, but it rarely did damage. Some of the shots were so disturbingly close.

"Boom!" Like that one for example. One would think it had hit the plane! Joe scoffed.

"It hit the fuel line," yelled the pilot in the backseat. Joe turned. The pilot was trying to save the aircraft. His hands were a blur. Joe realized that they were falling soon they would hit the street!

Joe awoke thinking of how nice the warm fire in the living room was. He opened his eyes though, to find himself in the smoldering wreckage of his aircraft. Maybe he could get help. He walked over to the middle of the street and waved at the planes below. Suddenly, one rushed down in his direction. He jumped for joy! Then he heard the rat-a-tat-tat of a machine gun. He was being shot at. He realized that they thought he was a German foot soldier! He rushed towards the nearest building. He felt a thud in his back. As he turned around, just before he died he saw Kyle, petrified in the pilot's seat.

Bob walked over to the post office that wonderful Hawaiian day.

"Hello!" said the postmaster cheerfully.

"Hi!" said Bob. He walked over to his PO Box and opened it. Hmm... One letter from the RAF and another from Kyle's parents. He walked back to his tent. As he was walking by the hospital, he decided to go in and visit his friend, John, who had just had a minor operation.

He sat in waiting room opening his letters. He started with the one from the RAF. Maybe it was a promotion! Bob could just imagine himself as "Captain Smith." He opened up the letter. It was a telegram:

Second Lieutenant Smith, B STOP We are sorry to inform you that your brother Joe Smith was killed by an allied fighter on the ninth of May, 1942 while on duty at an air raid in Dresden STOP Regards, John King STOP Casualties Officer, RAF STOP

All feelings of happiness left him. His brother was dead. As this began to sink in, he realized that he would never see his brother again. They would never go golfing with dad on Fridays. They would never eat oatmeal cookies together. Bob thought that the other letter might comfort him. Trembling, he opened it.

Dear Bob,
We just wanted to tell you that Kyle died on the 9th of May attacking Dresden. His airplane flew into a building just after Joe died.
Sincerely,
Catherine & Aidan Gregory

Bob felt dazed. He remembered all the good times he had had with Joe and Kyle. He dropped to the ground.

When he awoke, he found himself in a hospital bed. A nurse was tending him.

"Where am I," he asked.

"The hospital," said the nurse tenderly, "You blacked out in the waiting room."

Then Bob remembered the letters. He was again filled with dread. As he lay there his thoughts would always drift back to happy times with Joe and Kyle. He would try to crush those thoughts. They deteriorated him from the inside out. Bob felt like he would die. Much to his displeasure, he didn't all that quickly.

Bob was still struggling with his thoughts in his bed when an obnoxious alarm went off. That was the attack alarm! "Maybe this was a drill," he thought hopefully. He looked out the window. His hopes were dashed. On the horizon, hundreds of fighter planes could be seen. Several ships were headed towards the island and here he was. He could do nothing but watch as the instruments of war came nearer. Finally, someone shot the first shot.

He watched out his window as all his friends and officers were mercilessly wiped off the face of the earth by the Japanese fighter pilots. The destruction was slowly moving inland towards the hospital. Bob was hopeless and despairing. He thought back to the happy days.

"BOOM!" The sound of a huge bomb rocketed through the hospital. The next thing Bob knew he was on the floor. He was beginning to feel lightheaded. Debris was piled all around him. At least he was fine. He looked down to get something from his pocket, only to find that there was nothing below his waist but an ever-growing pool of blood. The bomb had blown off the lower portion of his body! He began to feel an agonizing pain, he thought back to his wonderful childhood and wondered how he got here. He began to feel dizzier and dizzier. Then he blacked out.

The end. How did that story feel?