Tonight is like every other night . We wait and wait and wait like mice that are in a trap waiting to be let go of by the enemy. I suppose that we are mice, mice that are of different ages and cultures. We have a lot in common. Me and the mice don't know when we are going to be faced with the devil or thrown down in the pits of no return that the devil also owns. It's quite quiet here just the occasional gun shot here and there. I am a sergeant of my regiment and my job is to fight and keep all my men safe.
I am sergeant Jonathan Henry Jones. Not only am I a sergeant but I am a loving husband and a father to my three beautiful daughters. To say life was easy here was a lie. I am overseas somewhere, where I am is a secret best left unsaid. I am just like any other man in my regiment we are all fighting one big battle, serving ode to the queen and country and if I say so myself this is one big bloody war we have on our hands.
Tonight's memories will never fade they scar me like a bullet wound imprinted in my brain. We were silently resting our eyes when a loud whistle woke us up. It was a quick reaction from everyone to say the least we were over the top in no time. But that didn't stop the Germans. They were one step ahead of us. Bullets spraying out everywhere like a balloon full of water being popped. My men were dropping like flies. Bangs were on constant form not a millisecond or second went by without a gun shot.
I clutched the picture of my family tight and placed it in my left breast pocket closer to my heart. The shooting eventually stopped. When it did I looked around to find the devil had visited and tonight was the best shot the devil had ever got. Men, brothers, uncles, fathers , cousins and husbands were laying lifeless before me on that blood filled field.
YOU ARE READING
The Visit
Historical FictionThe year is 1942 and the day is the 29th of June when tragedy strikes the Jones family. Find out the events leading up to this tragedy and how they cope after the aftermath of the visit.
