Hell's Gate: A WWII American soldiers story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic

Ok, so David is a young man going out to war. And, no, this isn't just about "I:M GONNA KILL YOU!" and "OH YEAH?! I'LL KILL YOU BACK" And all blood and stuff (though there is blood and I hope some things I write don't make people uncomfortable-like missing limbs and all....but thats what happens in war and I want to potray how awful it is)
ok, soooo where was I????
Oh! ok, um...oh! well, David learns something powerful through the war and that's something you have to read to find out. (Oh, and I know people like romance so I added just a TINY bit in the beginning-I won't exactly call it romance, but..- the rest is battle and friendships and people who know each other and die. And how some soldier thought that the war would be a great experience, but it actually wasn't) Well, enjoy!!!

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Hell's Gate: A WWII American soldiers story

Submitted: February 24, 2012

Reads: 232

Comments: 2

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Submitted: February 24, 2012





A tall woman of about 42 years old looked at me slowly as she wandered out of the kitchen room. She covered her mouth and began to sob as her eyes examined my army suit. I slowly walked over to her and began to cry softly, "Don't worry, ma. I'll be back soon." Mother stiffle a wail and she wiped here red eyes hastily, "Oh, David. I know you will, but.." she tuned her head slightly and glanced painfully at a picture sitting on a table. It was of a man I knew well, but...he was dead now.

"Ma. I won't die like Pa did. I won't and I promise you that." Mother nodded in response and kissed my forehead, trying to force a smile on her shaking lips, "I know you won't, son." We quielty embraced for a while until she pushed me away gently, "You should go now, they'll almost be here to pick you up and I won't have you late." With a smile, I nodded and walked out to our porch, blocking the sun from my eyes with my hand and looking around for a military car that'll take me away. As mom put an American flag close to our doorstep, a high voice saying, "Hey, Dave!" caused me to turn and grin as an 8 year old boy hurried over to me from our neighbor's house.

It was little Billy who, upon closer confrontation, frowned as he, too, examined my suit, "You cut your hair, Dave....so you really are leaving?" I bent down and patted his litle head, "I'll be back before you know it."

"Does that mean you have to kill people to come back?" KILL? The thought of blood being shed by my hands sent a shiver down my spine and I nearly puked, but a familiar voice stopped me all of a sudden. " Billy!" it said, "That's enough talk, now go inside for mom wants to see you." The small child hugged me tight and waved 'goodbye' to me with a sad, puppy-like face.  As he nodded to him reassuringly, my eyes swept over to a pretty, young, 17 year old girl with short, dark brown hai and brown eyes. She smiled at me, "So, David. Today's the day?" I nodded and fixed the cap on my head nervously, "Yes, Chelsea. I'm going off to war." Her eyes watered a bit, but she held them back forcefully, "Billy was so eager to see you before you left, "she laughed soflty, " He kept on jumping around the house and waking everyone up" I chuckled as well, "Your brother's a good kid" She nodded and looked me over like she didn't recognize me. "I'm...sorry if I'm much changed "The girl nodded once more and bit her lower lip as tears streamed down her face. At that moment, we both embraced and she sobbed softly in my ear, "David, please don't go!" I patted her hair and whispered back ,"I can't stay, Chelsea. I can't."

We held each other for a while till the honking of a car tore us apart. A brown jeep with a few soldiers mounted on it stopped on the driveway and waved to me with high yells. Without another thought, I forcefully tore myself from Chelsea's grasp and waved to her with a forged grin. My mother, who was stil on the porch, waved back as well and I hurried over to the car that will take me to war. The men made room for me in their jeep and patted my back with gleeful shouts-though, I don't know why.

As the car sped away, I looked back and at my home which slowly vanished from sight. At that moment, I wished the war would end before I entered the battlefield, but I seriously doubted it. Right next to me, a man offered me a drink which I refused respectfully. "You ready to fight?" he asked me and it took me a while to answer, but I grined and saluted to him, "Yes, sir. I sure am."


My name I David Bickerfield. I am 19 years old and am an American soldier. It is the year 1943, the war has started on September 1st, 1939. Our President, Franklin D. Roosevelt, has declared war to the the countries on the other side of the world. That's where I'm headed off to now. To go in the battlefields and probably die fighting the enemy. Like I said, I'm David Bickerfield and this is my story. 

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