Call of duty

Prolog and first chapter of life Kurt Jacobs as a soldier and a cop.

I studied the island that stretched before us. I jumped out of the boat APA, which was used for offensive traffic, and looked around. Okinawa looked calm. The ocean created a beautiful scenery, an interplay of gentle waves approaching each other and washing the beach at regular rhythmic intervals. The palm trees swaying under the onslaught of the cold wind drove away for a moment my terrifying thoughts about the purpose for which I had landed in Okinawa. Every soldier is afraid when he joins the army for his country, which he loves. For his fathers, who laid down their lives in Pearl Harbor. Drunk with the desire to avenge our dear fathers, I enlisted in the Marine Corps. I trained at a military camp in West Virginia, and a year later I was drafted into the First Ground Division.

So now, on the first of April, I landed on a beach on the island of Okinawa, and I promised myself, that no matter how long the war lasted, I would survive. "What are you doing, rookie ?! Do you miss your mom?" Major Kowalski teased me up. I repaired my helmet, folded the submachine gun as I had it over my shoulder, and walked on my own. I obediently walked in the crowd next to the soldiers about my age. They all had the same serious, determined expression on their faces as I expected. At the beginning of Lieutenant Stewart Brickston's peloton, I heard him argue with NCO Klapton, where we would move our artillery. "We're not expecting any enemy snipers, sir." Klapton said sharply. Brickstone nodded in agreement, his attentive green eyes watching the end of the island flickering in the distance. "We'll join the Eighth Marine Division and Infantry tomorrow," Brickstone said. I understand we are preparing an attack. Our goal turned out to be significantly different from the Philippines. Okinawa was not a tropic. It had high, steep hills, and it looked like you were walking in the fields.

The rolling hills attracted with their impregnability. As it turned out, the Japanese recalculated where to anchor our ships. There were no feet on the beach. At half past seven in the morning, we joined the Third Ground Division. A truck towed by artillery stopped in the middle of the bunkers of the depopulated village, where we set up one of the base camps. I walked among the empty stone houses that stood in a semicircle. The roof was made of straw and wooden soil was built around them. I've never seen boys who served in the Third Division. They were older than me. They stood in groups and talked. Some of them smoked or had a good time. I stood nearby, looking around. I realized that while we were standing here waiting for the bulldozer to level the ground so we could deploy heavy equipment, the people who lived here were drastically killed. There were chills running down my back. I remembered those unfortunate children who had to sacrifice their lives for a dispute that this will not end other than a bloodbath. " You are deaf, I'm talking to you!" I looked at Major Kowalski. He dropped his cigarette and spat. He stepped closer to me. I straightened my body. "Sir!" I answered. "What's your name, son ?!" He called as he stood close to me, almost less than the one meter. "Jacobs, sir!" I told him just as loud. "Our other units are three miles away." He spoke to the other soldiers who were in line. I joined them. "Sergeant Nelson!" He shouted at the muscle man. "How are we doing with that bulldozer ?!" The muscular man recited him with a report. A bulldozer that leveled an empty field about fifty meters from the village where we were finishing work. Just behind her, he moved the rest of the cannon infantry, from where the bulldozer returned to the village with a loud rumble. "Soldier Jacobs!" Called Major Kowalski. I stepped out of line and walked past the soldiers who were staring at me. I stood guard at the major again, waiting for orders. "You will serve all cannons. I entrust you as the commander of the artillery. "My stomach turned to a jelly." So much responsibility. I sighed almost uneasily and saluted the agreement and that I understood the mandate. "Let's go!" I called a group of men under my command.

They ran to the field and I followed them. The cannons were already ready in their places. 105 millimeter Howitzrov. They had to be handled with care if we needed to hit the target at the end of the beach. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard the branches cracking in the tense silence. I tried not to make any sudden movements. I slowly turned my head toward where I heard another twig. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a little boy. He was a few meters away from me. I didn't see his face well, but I could see, that he was shaking. I ordered the men to stay in their places and I went to meet him. My Japanese was weak, but I managed to get at least one word out of myself. "Friends." I pointed at myself and my artillery unit. "Friends." I repeated. The fear in his dark eyes turned to relief. I tried to get closer to him. He's backing away from me. "It's okay. All right." I cried with my hands up, that I didn't want to hurt him.

"All right?" I asked him. He stopped backing. "Friends." I repeated, and I´ve got a little closer to him. He said something, but I didn't understand him because he spoke fast. Suddenly I heard the deafening roar of fire a hundred yards from our base camp. Within seconds, planes appeared from out of nowhere. the engine speed approached and all I could do was grab the boy and run with him to the truck, that was taking the wounded soldiers to check-in and later to the hospital campsite.  The bombers immediately followed. The bombs exploded in a row. I pushed the child into the passenger seat. " Go ! I'll cover you! "I called. Japanese ground soldiers emerged from the bushes like mushrooms after heavy rain and immediately started firing at everything that moved. I returned fire and approached my unit. I looked over my shoulder. The car was leaving base camp. The sergeant shouted in panic and fired from a grenade, that landed twenty meters on a platoon of soldiers who had joined from behind the tanks. Our men died in a systematic order. The air was full of gunpowder, clay and earth. One of the Japanese, when he saw me, dropped his weapon, apparently he had it badly secured and attacked me from close combat. I grabbed his hand as he ran his fist over me, then grabbed the other and hit him in the head with my own. He fell to the ground and I hesitated in those hundreds of seconds, I looked him in the eye and I remembered a line , which I listened to for months in the training camp from morning to evening. "Kill or you'll be killed." The soldier - he couldn't be twenty years old - pulled a knife out of his back pocket and I fired an entire tray at him before he could throw it at me. 

I could feel his blood on my face. Behind me, I heard the panicked roar of other civilians. Where did they come from?  Only later did I notice how all the horrified people came out of the ground from the secret caves they used as shelters. Our base was directly below their caves. I called on the artillery to immediately start firing at other emerging units. In an instant, the cannons sounded in a majestic rumble. The sounds of exploding grenades, mines and rapping bombers whistled in my ears, killing civilians between them. Everything suddenly seemed like a slow-motion movie. I waved my hands to citizens to immediately crawl back into the caves. The plane landed fifteen meters from me. The pressure wave threw me another ten. My knees fell unhappily into the bushes, near the villagers. I got up with great pain. Another mine fell on them. "Run! Run!" I waved, but it was too late. Men, women and children screamed in panic. And then the scream stopped. I stood terrified. It ringed in my ears. I loaded my submachine gun and shot my way trough back in artillery. When I arrived, half of my men were dead. Like Major Kowalski, Lieutenant Brickstone and Petty Officer Klapton. "We are surrounded! We have no chance! " Sergeant Nelson shouted in horror. We lay on the ground with the broken remains of our works. We both fired at everything that moved. The formation of our surviving men hid under the bodies of dead soldiers, others with flamethrowers destroyed the entire field of Japanese. The sergeant and I covered them. In despair, I looked behind me. The wounded men lay on the ground, praying aloud. As if they were hoping that God or we would get them out of this difficult situation. "Back off !" I finally called. "Everybody back off! Give way! "There was no force, no ammunition or men. The Japanese prepared well for us and then, out of nowhere, the ground shook with the huge force of a dropped bomb.

I huddeld myself and I remember, that I also began to pray, even though I never believed in God. The roar of the planes subsided, until it disappeared somewhere in the distance. Tanks also left their positions. In absolute shock, I lay motionless and prayed. Minutes after the tanks left the ravaged village, General Eighth Unit, led by General Marshall, ran out of the bushes. Lieutenant Colton, whom I met from the camp, was looking for survivors. I sat down. Without a word, I looked into his eyes and his horror writed into his face, brought me back from lethargy to reality. "God, what happened here, Kurt?" He crouched to me. "It was a trap." I blurted out. "They're all dead. They must have known, that we were camping here." He nodded understandingly. "Are you okay? Can you walk?" I raised my fatalistic hands. "" I'm okay. Not a scratch. "I shook my head in disbelief. Jack ran a hand over his shaved face. I pointed to an empty field on my left." There are caves. Search them to see if there are any civilians yet. "I saw on his face, that he didn't understand what I was talking about. And from his expression, he must have thought I had to hit my head hard, because the blood flowing from under my dark hair was not good. And then I added,“ Please. ”He stood resignedly and whistled to his unit.” Search the area. Shovels and pickaxes. There should be caves, where there are civilians !" 

 In the meantime, I got up and drank water from a leather bottle handed to me by one of the infantry. "Tell me your name, boy." General Marshall approached me. "Artillery Commander Jacobs, sir." The same compassionate and firm look. like Jack. "You were good, Commander Jacobs." he patted me on the shoulder. Then he looked at the dead. Sergeant Nelson. The shrapnel that struck him tore off his arm and both legs. I couldn't look at him. Why not me? He had a wife, kids ... hell, why not me? "Commander Jacobs, can you hear me?" I snapped at Marshall's sensitive voice. "Sir?"  My ears still rang.  "Very well, son. You're a hero. Just look." He shook his head as he looked over my shoulder. I turned. Civilians were obeying the orders of the Eighth Division. "Those people owe you your life." He paused. "I honor you with a silver cross for bravery, as well as with a purple heart and the rank of lieutenant of artillery forces." I bowed my head modestly. The objection would be inadmissible. But I didn't want any medals. I'm not a hero.

Author's Note

Ignore my english grammar problems, what do you think of the dialogue and the plot ?