Call of Duty World War II -- Peace At Any Price

The News

Nathan Thorn
March 6, 1943
Gladewater, Texas

Nathan: Ma! I'll be back in a little bit.

I walk out the door with my rifle before I even hear an answer. I walk off our family farm and straight into the woods for some hunting. It's the only thing that keeps my mind of things.

It was always better hunting with my brother. It's been hard not being with Arthur but I make do as I always have. He's off fightin' in the war on the other side of the world. Africa, last I heard from him.

It must be amazing in Africa. All the wild game. He's probably bagged a lion for all I know.

Nathan: Lucky little bastard.

I mutter to myself. But while he's sweatin' his sack off in Africa, I'm freezing mine off here in Texas. It's roughly fifty something but that's cold enough for me.

I make it to the woods just outside our property. Mr. Johnson lets me and Arthur use the woods for hunting whenever we want, really.  I walk into the woods, cowboy boots crunching on some twigs and leaves here and there.

Arthur: Take the shot!

I snap around but he's not there. That's all I hear sometimes. Arthur, screaming for me to shoot the damn wolf but I couldn't. I was never able to get the round in the chamber. I was weak.

Hours of searching around, bagging a few small game but nothing big. I decided that the three rabbits I killed were enough.

I start back to our ranch. I get past the tree line and into the open field of Mr. Johnson's property. I glance in the direction of Longview, flipping the bird. I still remember that game like it were yesterday afternoon.

I'm just glad they went on the lose to Austin on Thanksgiving day.

Nathan: Lost by forty-two, assholes.

I chuckle to myself at the memory of reading about their loss in the Sunday paper. After a while more of walking, I see our ranch, some kind of vehicle pulls out of the driveway and leaves back down the dirt road. It's not one of ours.

As the house gets closer and closer, I hear muffled noises coming from inside.

Nathan: Ma! Pa! What's the matter?

I shout but there's no answer. I get to the front lawn and see the front door is about half open.

Nathan: Pa?

I walk closer to the door to hear crying. What's going on?

I open the door slowly to see my mother and father on the floor in tears. Seemingly broken.

Nathan: Mama? Pa? What's goin' on?

I kneel down, setting the rifle gently onto the floor. I see there's a large green duffle bag across from them.

Arthur William Thorn, is printed on it in red.

Evelyn: My sweet boy!

Mother wails as the realization starts to sink in on me.

Nathan: No...no th-this isn't true.."

Pa still holds onto mama tightly but a piece of paper and an envelope fall from her grasp and onto the wood floor. I quickly snatch it and begin reading.

Washington

March 5, 1943

To the family of Arthur,

Please accept my deepest sympathy in the loss of your son, Corporal Arthur W. Thorn, on 24 February, North Africa.

I know that the passing of a loved one is one of life's most tragic moments, but sincerely hope you will find some measurement of comfort in knowing that your son served the Nation with honor. His devotion to service was in the finest tradition of American soldiers who on other battlefields and in other times of national peril, have given the priceless gift of life to safeguard the blessings of freedom for their loved ones and future generations.

In Africa, today, brave Americans are defending the rights of men to chose their own destiny and to live in dignity and freedom. You can cherish the thought that for his sacrifice, your son is forever noble.

All members of the United States Army join in sharing your burden and grief.

Sincerely,

General, Lloyd Fredendall Kenneth Anderson

——————

I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't hear. Everything is wrong. Arthur's dead. He's dead and I didn't get the chance to even say goodbye. The last thing he wrote to me was how much he misses huntin' with me and now we're never gonna hunt together, again.