the ships

the ships

Status: In Progress

Genre: Historical Fiction

Houses:

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Historical Fiction

Houses:

Summary

a boy is sent to pearl harbor to fight the japensse and gets caught up in the bmbing of pearl harbor.
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Summary

a boy is sent to pearl harbor to fight the japensse and gets caught up in the bmbing of pearl harbor.

Chapter1 (v.1) - My Sentence

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 01, 2017

Reads: 47

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 01, 2017

A A A

A A A

It was the year of 1941, and I had been enrolled in the Navy at the age 21.  At first, I had tried to stay as far away from war as possible.  I hated it so I hid on my farm.  Though I too, hated the farm, I hated war even more.  I worked with my father and hid when a military vehicle drove  down our dusty road.  There were many houses on my road, all of which belonged to farmers.  Usually, the truck would drive down to recruit soldiers, or to break the news to somebody that their son had died.  I lived in a small town in Texas at the time.  Our road was long and full of farms.  Not many people drove down it.  When someone did drive down it, we would always know because we were the first farm on the left side of the road.  I had just finished a day's work on the farm, driving our old tractor, when my father called me inside.  Our house was a little beaten up and needed some work, but we never fixed it.  I trudged inside knowing I was to get scolded for doing my work incorrectly or not the way he would like it.  Instead of his arms crossed shaking his head, he held a rolled up paper in his hands.  As soon as I had gotten to the door, he handed me the paper.  I unrolled it to see an assortment of phrases.  It read “Join the army”, “Sail the seas”, and “Help America win the wars”.  I suddenly knew where this was going.

“Join the army, son” my father said turning away, shielding his eyes almost.  He rested his hand on the back of one of our wooden chairs.  “I'm sick of you sitting around here when the rest of the country is off fighting a war.  Join the army and become someone you're proud of.  Someone your mother and the rest of the family would be proud of.”

I stared at my father, taken aback by what he had said. He wants me to die.  He is putting me to my death, I thought.  I looked down at the paper that had persuaded my father to send me away and suddenly change his thought on keeping me at home.  I was about to speak and try to let my father keep me for a few more years or possibly forever, when he spoke once more.

“Your mother would be happy with you.  Finally becoming her brave son.”

“You don’t know what she would want,” I said, scowling.

“When that car comes down this road in a few more minutes, or maybe an hour, I’m sending you with them.  It’s time you stopped hiding and finally become the son your mother would have wanted.  A brave and courageous son.  Not one who hides in a barn until the day he dies,” He said crossing his arms and ignoring me.

All I could do was nod.  There was no way I could change his thinking now.  Once my father had an idea, it could never be changed.  I heard the faint engine of the familiar  military truck making its way down the long, dusty road. The engine noise had started to get louder and I knew I had to do something to try and stop him

“Dad, no,” I begged.  “No, I can’t join the Navy.  I just can’t.  What about the farm?” I asked.

He crossed his arms across his chest and looked out the window at the field of corn growing.  His eyes took on a distinct look,as if he is looking farther than our farm, farther than anything I could see.

“The farm doesn’t matter.  Last year was the final time you were staying here while the rest of the men fight.  I’m sorry, but you have to go,” he said.

He turned away from me, so I couldn’t see his face.  By now, the truck’s engine had become louder, meaning the truck was going to pull into our driveway at any moment.  The truck’s sound stopped and my father marched toward the door before the man knocked on the door.  I snuck after my father and hid behind the wall,out of sight, to listen to the conversation.  The tiniest piece of me hoped he would send me away and I would finally get off the farm.  But the other part hoped I wouldn’t leave, and my father would say “No, My son is staying.”  

“Good evening, sir.  We understand you are a farmer and have a son capable of being in the armed forces.  We must ask you every year.  Would you have any interest in having him join the Military?”

“Yes, actually,” my father said.

“Please get your son ready.  He will be joining the Navy and be sent to The Naval Base, in Hawaii,” the man said, almost excited that I was going to fight in a war.



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