The Right One

Chronicle I: War is Hell

French Toast held on to his helmet as tight as possible, as chuncks of debris flew over his head. The sound of artillery fire was deafening. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

He laid on the ground, watching through the scope of his rifle as rainwater flowed down his face. He couldn't even remember his previous life, before all the blood, sweat and tears. It seemed like eons had passed.

"This is the life of a soldier....another expendable resource. Risking our lives for these selfish politicians." He tried his hardest to not distract himself from his task, to shoot the approaching enemy troops.

"BOOM!!!!"

The enemy had began another barrage of artillery fire, trapping the French forces. The German infantry rushed in, French Toast had to focus and shoot them.

He saw a Nazi soldier taking aim at the barrels of gunpowder in the trench, and was forced to kill him. He was mortified. The sausage was merely in his 20s. "I had to....he was gonna kill us." French toast tried desperately to justify his actions.

The loud voice of the general interrupted French Toast's train of thought. "Sergeant! I need you and your platoon to rush in there and take out the gunners." General Fishcake ordered.

"It's suicide. No one will make it out of that hellfire." The platoon sergeant replied. French Toast sighed, it was indeed. They were already losing, it puts them at disadvantage if they were to lose soldiers now.

"Do not defy my orders, or I shall have you court marshalled if we survive this. We must not lose this region, or France is doomed. And before you ask, NO. Reinforcements are not available." The general retorted with aggression, he wasn't going to rethink his decision. They had to be sacrificed.

The squad rushed in, and one by one they fell. The platoon sergeant clenched his wound, mouthing his last words, "Tell my family, I love them."

As soon as he finished his sentence, an explosion engulfed him. That was the last time anyone saw of the sergeant. French Toast couldn't take it anymore. It was torture, too harsh for him to endure, watching his fellow brothers fall, one by one.

It was then, French Toast snapped. He wasn't going to stand idly by when his brothers were dying.

Letting his emotions overcome him, French Toast grabbed his rifle and whacked General Fishcake on the head with the stock of the rifle. Lightning striked the ground nearby as the General fell feebly onto the muddy terrain.

French Toast then assumed command and ordered the remaining troops to retreat to their fort in the South.

Even though most of them evacuated in their jeeps, some had to be left behind to hold off the oncoming enemy. It was for the greater good.

In the meantime, French Toast was contemplating his actions. Before he was finished with his thoughts however, a shell from a notorious Panzer IV hit the jeep beside his. The impact flipped his jeep over and the other passengers were crushed by it. He was the only one in his jeep to survive and watched helplessly as the German flametroopers torched the remaining survivors, the rest was a blur...

~chapter written by P3nguin___ and edited by ShinyUmbreonUX