#930 in all of Historical Fiction!! The year is 1942 and the United States has been provoked. On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor as a declaration of war against the U.S. and the only way to respond to an act of war... is with force. Sean Richards quickly learns that as he enlists in the United States military and must fight for his life. However, he soon finds himself in a position that will test his leadership, his humanity, and most importantly, his ability to survive. Join Sean as he fights through the streets of Europe and the oceans of the Pacific. So what are you waiting for? It's time for war, soldier.

Poems to support those who fight for our freedom both here and over seas. I will try to add at least a couple of poems a week. Please comment, fan, and vote.

Who are the heros? Those trained to be, or those who take up their own? How are the best bonds formed? From staying beside someone, or holding them when they need to be held? How are friends made? By saving them from the enemy, or by just being there? We are Delta. We are watching.

In the end, none of it mattered. All the fights, all the tears shed. They were nothing. In the end there was just him. There was just me. There was just this moment. And in that single moment with the Earth falling down around me like the walls of Jericho, he was all that I could see. He was all I had ever wanted, he was all I needed, and he was all that had ever mattered and all that ever would matter. He was the sun to my rain clouds. We'd been through a lot, he and I. We'd seen the best of the world and survived the worst. We'd even survived each other. That was the real miracle. The world and its cruelties were nothing next to our little chaos. I'm getting ahead of myself here though, telling the end before the beginning. That's how stories go. The end is important, sure. This darkness. This final moment of clarity before the light or fire consumes our souls is the fate we all meet, but we live lives first. We've shared moments and experiences. Its these combined moments, both good and bad that are what really matter in the end. No matter how we come to that end. Now, before our lights go out to whatever fate awaits us, I wish only to share with whoever is out there in this fading world, a story not just concerning our love, but of the life we lived, of the struggles we faced together and conquered. Whoever finds this, if anyone should find this, you won't know us, Ronan and I, but maybe it will give you hope because in this world of shadowed, faceless figure nothing more than mere wraiths floating listless in this decaying lifeless terrain hope is the only light left. The world-My world wasn't always like this though. There was a time when the skies always seemed to be blue. When my sun shone bright and true. And when it shone, it shone greater than any star in the sky. It didn't just give light to the day. It gave warmth to the soul. It was in this world of light, long gone now, that my-our story begins.

this is not a story, nor a fairytale, these are letters to my marine, just little emotional rantings that i have that maybe someday he will read, when hes back home

This is a short story about a soldier of the First World War. When you read the story you will see that I do not give him a name. It is an attempt to force the reader to identify with the man and not who is right or who is wrong. It is a story about futility and fear, it is a story about bravery and sacrifice. It is a story that is intended to show that each nations pride and glory has a cost, and that cost is the blood of those that fight.

This is a short story of actual events seen through through the eyes of a child. The only portion of this story that was fabricated, are that Characters of Rene's Family. All other characters and names were of actual people that were victims in the horrific event that I have portrayed. Oradour-sur-Glane was a town in France that was put to death by the Third Reich in June of 1944. It is still not conclusive why the village was destroyed, however the ones that did the killing would also soon be dead because of the advancing Allied Armies

7 Letters from the trenches of World War I.