1942
Trucks paraded over the cities with auburn sky. The white, Dutch architectural buildings formed the horizon and painted the streets, but smoke and fire added the horror sensation to the burning city.
The trucks were like a fleet of ants, lining together one by one to a certain place. The trucks were boarded by American and British troops, and they were to aid the front garrison of the Dutch stronghold in the city of Samarang. The Japanese fleet of tanks and men bombarded the place.
“Fine weather this morning,” Glenn, as usual, commented.
“It won’t be for long,” Rake answered, his half burned ear glimmered when the sun shone. “Half of us will be fucking dead after all this.”
“Thank you for the enthusiasm, Rake. You truly are the most optimistic person ever,” Jules said while brushing his rifle with his hands for no reason whatsoever.
“I’m simply being realistic.”
The boom in the distance sprawled the air. We could see the enemy bomber cutting the clouds after destroying yet another platoon.
“Apparently so,” Lieutenant Antlers said.
The truck rumbled for five minutes without anyone opening their mouths for conversation. Jules reached for the doll on his upper pocket.
“I can’t wait to get my hands on those bastards. They threatened our homes. Diabolical traitors, the Japanese. My mom can’t even sleep comfortably no more.”
“Don’t say that Burke,” Rake commented. “Usually it’s a curse. The one who said that they can’t wait to kill them would fucking die first.”
“I’m just in the spirit, that’s all. How ‘bout you, Jules? Ain’t talk too much, huh?”
“I guess I just have nothing to say, don’t I, Burke?”
Another explosion erupted. The lieutenant silenced us and the truck accelerated faster. Rice fields with decorative scarecrows and gazebos fluttered away as we hurriedly pass by. Hatted farmers with sickles and baskets in their fists stopped to see us pass. Their faces were empty, blanketed by fear and confusion and tiredness.
“Java Island.” Rake spoke again. “Never thought in a million years will I be sent here. Maybe France and Midway are for the tough boys. I’m fucking tough though.”
“Just shut up, Rakey,” Hal shuttered.
“Hal’s right. We’re almost there. Get ready people!” Lieutenant Antlers checked his supplies and cracked his fist. The man with gray moustache had seen two wars, almost died several times in both, but still, he kicked asses.
“We finally are here ladies! Get the hell down and report to the Dutch post.”
They stopped in the downtown with half demolished city structures all around. Jules scanned the area for enemies, but none were visible, just an explosion from somewhere every millisecond.
The post was decorated with three flags fluttering. The red and white and blue flag of the Netherlands, the striping red and white flag with stars on the corner of the US, and the big blue union jack flag of the Brits.
The tall looking man with blue eyes lazily talked to the lieutenant and handed him dozens more men. Dutch. Those Dutch were added to Jules’ platoon to assist them from sweeping the island from the Japanese.
“I somehow don’t like these guys too much,” Rake said.
“Why? Haven’t you visited the Netherlands before, Rake?” Jules pleasantly wanted to talk about the amazing country. “Just tulips and bikes and windmills and awesome architectures everywhere. Their food is the second best after Italy I must say. Their cities are just amazing.”
YOU ARE READING
Darkness Dissolves When the Door Opens
Historical Fiction[60.000-70.000 words] Trapped in a Japanese occupied island, Jules West and other allied soldiers were fighting for their survivals. Facing losses and mental breakdown were not their only problems since the whole island tried to kill them. It had b...
