The War To End All Wars

All experiences were told by a veteran. I only changed some names around.

"Private! Over here!"

A man jumped down into the trench. The sounds of artillery roar throughout the sky.
"Sarge?" The man asked grasping his rifle tightly, as of recently the Germans have been making it to the trenches. You'd never know what to expect.
"There's nothing left we can do Private." The Sargent yelled over the artillery noise, gun fires and most of all, the blood curdling screams of young men on both sides being shot. "Tomorrow we die." He continued.
The Private sucked in his breath. " I believe we shouldn't give up sir!" He exclaimed staring the Sarge in the eyes. "I think if…if we kept pushing. We could do it!"
The Sarge laughed and pulled out a cigar. "Private Smith. You don't know when to quit huh?"
"No sir!"
"Alright, we'll forward the news. We'll have one last push."

The next day Private Smith was given a secret mission. He was dispatched around a peaceful German town. The military occupied the town, but he wasn't there for fighting. He had two other men with him. Private Gomez and Corporal Skippy.
They walked along the border of the town, in a forest. Gomez was telling the men about his family, when Skippy raised his hand. The men froze.
They quietly walked around some trees and peeked around the corner. German patrols. Any second now, they would notice them. If they shot them the noise would bring more of them. Private Smith knew the Corporal had considered this. But he gave the order to fire anyway.
Each man raised his rifle and fired. Smith watched as a German soldier's head snapped back by force. And then he slumped sideways. Each soldier's face leaving a bloody mess.
"We must leave. Now!" Skippy whispered moving back into the bushes. The others followed.

The following afternoon, Smith was back in the trench. Back in the front line. Hundreds of men died, for each yard gained. The Germans had an advantage today, they had a hill. And an odd gun. Instead of steel, it spat out a inferno. Flamethrower was what the other fellas called it.
Smith's thoughts came to a halt when Private Gomez, the man from earlier tapped him on the shoulder. "In case I don't come back." He shook Smith's hand. And gave him a letter. "Please, give this to my family, I- I want them to know I died loving them." A tear rolled down his cheek. And he began to climb up over the trench. Smith gasped. "Gomez!" He yelled. But he was already gone.
Smith grabbed his rifle and placed on his helmet, and climbed over the trench. He spotted Gomez ahead of him. "Gomez!" He yelled again.
The soldier kept moving forward. Smith followed, firing his rifle blind sight. It was too foggy to make out who was around him, besides Gomez.
The solder ran into a cloud of smoke. Smith began to go after when he was thrown back by some force. A loud explosion noise rang through his ears.
"Gomez!" Smith spat out some blood. He couldn't move, the pain was to much. He glanced down at his leg. It was all cut up and bleeding.
Gomez had stepped on a land mine. Gomez was dead.
Smith let out a weak cry and fainted in pain.

Images of Gomez flashed in his mind. And finally the image of his final minute alive.

Smith awoke in a military hospital. A nurse was holding a bag filled with steel.
"Don't know how ya made it son." She said shaking the bag. "I think that was the most steel we pulled out of anyone."
Smith winced. What was keeping him alive? This pain? Or determination? A doctor walked into the room. He glanced at Smith, and his leg.
"Sorry boy, we're gonna have to cut that off." The words hit Smith like a train. His leg was no longer a leg. It was a black, cut up piece of meat that hung on his body.

Smith will never forget the sound of the saw, cutting through his bones.

"Squa-dron! To the flag. Salute!"
An elderly man raised his hand in a salute. And stared at the Canadian flag. His other hand, held the letter. The letter a brave young man had given him during the war.
A tear streamed down his cheek. He had survived. But he never delivered the letter.

Today was November 11th 2009. On the 11th hour, of the 11th day.

We Remember.

~Nass