A short story about a dying soldier during World War II. Left for dead and alone with his thoughts in the battlefield, he wonders if he will be rescued or if he is destined to become just another statistic among the casualties of war.
“Fleet”
(Alvin Olmedo)
Private Gerald had to play dead. Their platoon had been over this in case they get hit non-mortally in the crossfire and help wasn’t on the way. It’s the only way to have a chance to survive in the presence of one’s enemies.
But one doesn’t really expect something like this to happen for real, he thought. You just hope you get back to your barracks in one piece or get killed instantly on an encounter without having to endure this kind of sharp, piercing pain.
“Where exactly am I hit?” Private Gerald wondered. It felt like his whole body was in pain. But the most agonizing part was in the abdominal area where the bullet must have penetrated his now aching body. It’s true what they said. At first your body feels numb when you’re shot. It’s only when you see blood on you when the throbbing pain begins to come. The body’s numbing defense mechanism, shielding you from the initial trauma, then begins to wear off. That’s when you feel the whole impact of what you fear most. You’re hit, you’re down, and you’re life might begin to flash before your eyes.
But there’s no time for the last part yet. Private Gerald was on survival mode and his mental faculties were still pretty sharp. He could see from his slightly opened eyes that the Germans were still very much present in the area, surveying the dead and cautiously looking around for snipers that may be waiting for the opportunity to shoot from their hidden positions. He could see at least two of his fallen comrades within 3 or 4 feet from where he lay. They were obviously dead as they were unfortunately hit in the head and their blood was still dripping from the bullet-inflicted exit wounds.
One was Private Hancock whom he barely knew in the last few months they were together in this platoon. He spoke little and was obviously in constant fear for his life. He obviously feared the worst which was never coming home alive. At least more so than the average soldier did. This war took a toll on his mental state but now he was tormented no more. How will his wife of two years take on the news when they finally inform her that he was killed in action? And what about their new born child who never got to know his father?
Currently there are no comments related to "“Fleet” by Alvin Olmedo". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!