It's been six weeks since Turner was killed, but it hasn't lifted off my shoulders one bit. It's also been six weeks since Pierson promoted me, but I still haven't grown the courage to even celebrate it. The guilt is still here, weighing me down. I don't want it to, but I let it.
I join the boys around our open fire with a drink in my hand, the atmosphere growing silent. As I sit on my log, I sigh, knowing exactly what they're thinking.
They still know I'm not over my guilt about Turner's death, and they have nothing to say as they can't make me change my mind.
To break the silence, Daniels holds his drink up high, and says:
"Merry Christmas, Turner."
We all join in, raising our drinks to the sky.
"Oh, and Turner. Pierson made Betty the Baker here Corporal. I wonder what you'd think of that." Aiello begins.
"Probably that you're still the same sack of shit, eh, Aiello?" I bite, and he points his index finger at me.
-"You wanna talk 'shit'? Why don't you go into the kitchen and make me a donut, eh?"
-"Fuck you!"
"Enough! Now's not the time." Zussman breaks in, glaring at Aiello.
We all repeat our actions by raising our drinks to the air, and saying:
"To Turner"
once more, until, something ruins it.
"To Turner!" Pierson yells, stumbling as he holds his drink up high, too.
-"You lucky son of a bitch. You're always first, right?"
We all exchange looks, growing quiet after his entry.
-"Yeh, keep eyeballin' me. Get your jollies tonight, boys, because tomorrow when that convoy comes through, you're gonna be on the frontline defending it. And Turner's not gonna be there to defend you!"
He takes a kick into the fire, bits of wood flying around the place. Furiously, I stand up and hold him by the chest, pushing him back.
-"Easy!"
He releases himself roughly, fixing his helmet then turning back towards me.
"Easy? You're Corporal now, huh? Yeh, let's see how fucking easy it is. Go on, give me an excuse." He growls, but I keep my mouth shut before I say something I might regret. Although, I regret saying nothing, too.
"Yeh, that's what I thought." He pauses, takes a swallow, and carries on the pity.
-"Six years I've served with that man. Six."
He walks over the fire, and drops the his bottle onto Aiello's shoulders and he takes it quickly before it falls.
"Merry fuckin' Christmas." He hisses, strutting off to his tent.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, attempting to process what the hell just happened. Soon, I stand up with a sigh, and pace off.
"I'm turning in. This palpable tension is strangling me by the neck." I say, pouring my beer into the fire and weaving through the boys. As I walk away, I hear Zussman and Daniels.
"You're a dick, Aiello." Zussman starts.
"Zuss, that's enough." Daniels intrudes.
I'm getting closer to my tent, until a hand lands on my shoulder and spins me around.
Aiello stands in front of me, his hands in his pockets and his breath creating smoke in the air.
"I didn't mean what I said back there...I'm sorry." He apologises.
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No Sacrifice Too Great | COD WW2 Story
Action"No mission too difficult, no sacrifice too great." The words of wisdom and bravery. Being the only female in the platoon was no different from being another guy. Everyone treats me the same as they do with everyone else. I just...wish it stayed tha...
