In 1943 Steven Grant Rogers was enlisted to the United States Army.
Everyone knows the righteous, patriotic Captain America and his story. People might have heard of his mother, Sara, who was a nurse and died of tuberculosis. Perhaps some have even...
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He had followed the men through the forest, keeping close to John as he seemed to be the only one who hadn't gotten enough of his questions just yet. Little did he know, the Captain, whose spot was in the very front, had commanded Theo and John to keep a close eye on the naive young man until further notice.
William had no idea how long they had been walking, but he was keeping his eyes on their surroundings, taking in the greenery, hills, rocky ground and trying to not wander too much. He used to be a city boy, so this was new and very interesting. Despite the sighs he had witnessed this morning, he was too caught up in tbe reality to really think it all through.
They moved in sync, only one link of the chain stumbling aside from time to time. Even though the men were carrying heavy bags and guns, their footsteps were so silent it would have been nearly impossible to detect them just from hearing. “So, how many Nazis have you shot down?” William whispered to John whose green eyes we're glazed over with tiredenss. Mischief sparkled in his emerald eyes as he glanced towards the nervous lad beside him.
“Oh, thousands. They are all afraid of the name Blinker by now, even Hitler himself.” he said in a secretive tone, as if no one else was allowed to hear. “Really? But why do they call you Blinker though?”
“Because I can take down twenty-five men within a blink of an eye.” Will frowned, stretching the back of his head in confusion. “But when you blink twice, you kill... Fifty men?” John nodded, his curls bouncing slightly.
“So, how many do you kill within a minute?” he asked John, earning an evil eye from Theo who kept a keen lookout on their surroundings. And frankly, the older man had grown quite tired of their hushed conversation. “Thats the thing, no one knows, because they are all dead by then.” John chuckled and Will just smiled awkwardly, falling back in line as he tried to understand the logic. Because he was utterly lost and confused by what John had told him.
As William went to tap on Johns shoulder again, he heard an angry scoff behind him, making him glance towards Theo in surprise. “Can you be quiet for few minutes? On that rate you'll give our location out before we even make it to the trench.” with red cheeks, William turned away, feeling slight anger towards the grumpy man. Who was he to tell William what to do?
Fuming to himself, he followed the trail of men in silence.
The trench had not been what he had expected. They had been commanded to be very low do the ground as they one by one they hopped in, eyes wide and heads low so not to catch any unwanted attention.
Instead of seeing the relief on ghostly faces, William noticed the disgusting smell that made him scrunch up his nose. It was a mixture of soil, gunpowder, rotten food, blood and dung. The flies that flew on his face did not make it any better. He stood, a bit lost as Captain Carter went to check on their situation. The anger Will had felt earlier disappeared when he noticed blood on the dark coloured sand. It was almost everywhere. He gulped, turning his gaze towards John who was waving him over.
“You look as if you've never seen a drop of blood before. Do not tell me you're one of those men who can not even see blood before they black out?” he asked jokingly, taking seat near one of the snipers that was aimed towards the enemy lines. William laughed nervously, taking seat next to John as other soldiers jogged deeper into the trench. “Me? No, I don't mind blood, not one bit.” his voice was a couple of octaves higher as he tried to wave it off as if it was nothing, eyes bulging as he took in the pieces of bloodied fabric on the ground.
How pleasant.
He stayed with John next to the sniper, noticing how the man kept opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but once his green eyes landed on Will, he closed his mouth. He thought it must have been something to do with his deceased brother. And for that, he felt even guiltier for some reason.
The weather seemed to hate the war as it opened the doors of water, the rain falling on the soggy land. The water flooded in the trench as William tried to find a little shelter from it, not realizing how he was pressing himself next to John who just rolled his eyes.
Pappy jogged towards them, his expression hard and eyes guarded as he crouched down in front of the two. “Will, you alright with aim? Good, because you're going to cover for our boys with John here. Help him set it up.” he told John, thrusting another sniper on Wills lap. Be watched as the rainwater ran down the dark barrel, falling onto his dark green pants. Hoares feet sunk into the wet soil as he retreated from them, the water filling his footprints immediately. John grabbed the gun from his hands, making sure his helmet was on as be slowly stood up and peeked into the heavy rain to set another sniper up.
That night nothing happened, soldiers came soon to swap places with Will and John, allowing the two to retreat into a slightly cosier cave in the trench. They ate and despite the fear that seemed to course through his body, William closed his eyes and fell asleep in one of the corners, clutching his rifle to his chest. The quiet murmur of men did not bother him, but the sleep was not as it used to be.
He seemed to always be aware of his surroundings, vaguely sensing the people in the room whenever they came or left.
The night was quiet, the heavy rain soaking the grounds and their clothes. He nibbled at some dried food, sensing Captain Carters burning gaze at himself more than once. Apparently, the man had given John clear instructors to make sure Will would stay away from the bulletrain no matter what.
The morning was pleasantly quiet, the heavy fog once again taking over the forest as smell of rain and soil reached Wills nose. The sound of lonely raindrops falling from leaves was the only thing he heard, not even birds were singing for the new day.
But then something flashed in the distance, making Will duck his head as a loud shot rang out. John pushed Williams head down forcefully, scrambling towards the sniper as everyone started shooting down the enemy who had closed in on them in the cover of the fog.
The sounds of bullets being fired locked his ears, the heavy smell of gunpowder reaching his nose as the helmet had slightly slid off. Crouched, he jogged towards John, frantically asking the man what to do. John yelled at him to put his helmed straight, making Will fix it before he turned towards the sniper, curling his shaking fingers around the cold metal, his blue, wide eyes staring at the men shaped shadows in the thick fog coming closer, and closer...
And that was the day William Rogers killed a man for the first time.
