riot | william pierson

Chapter 12 - Pain

March 18, 1943, Gafsa, Tunisia

It's been almost a whole month now since Kasserine. Somehow, we managed to find the rest of our platoon, and together our division took Gafsa, a small town somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It's now our supply base.

I avoided conversation with everyone except Aiello, he's the only one left I can talk to. Pierson withdrew himself from everyone, even me. He's devastated.

Aiello? Infront of the others, he pretends to be okay. He does not cry or talk to anyone about it, it almost looks like he is just going on with his life. But he is quieter than usual. No snarky or sarcastic remarks, no jokes, no complaining. Only when we're alone, which we are every evening since we're sharing a tent with each other, he talks about his feelings, even cries sometimes. Sometimes we just sit on the cot and cry the whole evening. They are quiet tears as we don't want to draw attention to us.

And I? I'm hurting. The pain of losing someone you care about is unbearable. The hours pass by, and nothing happens. What's supposed to happen anyways? The images of my friends dying still flash in front of my eyes from time to time. They haunt me.

Right now, Aiello is already asleep. He had a headache and went to bed earlier, which Turner didn't mind. I'm just sitting on my cot, staring into nothing. My head is empty. A small pat on the tent takes me back to reality. I stand up and walk over to the tent's flap, not wanting to let the person in since I don't want to wake Aiello up.

"Yes?" I ask the soldier that 'knocked' after stepping outside. He reaches into his pocket and hands me two dog tags. I don't even need to look at the names on it to know they are my friends dog tags. I take them out of his hand.

"Thank you. But why are you handing me them? Why are they not sent to their families?"

"I don't know. Turner handed me them, saying to give them to you. I'm just following orders."

I nod and he leaves. I stare down at my hands and can feel tears forming in my eyes as I read the engraving. 'Ingloriously glorious four'. Inglorious? Back then we were joking about it. They were not inglorious. Not a bit. They died as heroes. At least from my point of view.

Not wanting anyone to see me cry I go back inside, fighting the tears. I put the dog tags under my pillow and take a few deep breaths. Right now, I could need someone to talk to. Aiello's asleep and I am not planning on waking him up anytime soon. He deserves some sleep. I only got two options left. Pierson and Turner. And maybe Crowley if he's still here. I'm not sure about that. That makes three options. The most obvious one is Pierson. I haven't checked on him ever since anyways. I just hope he's finally ready to talk. Standing up I notice a pendant around Aiello's neck, I've never seen before. I shrug, deciding to ask him later about it and exit the tent once again, making my way over to the command tent hoping to find Pierson there. The comrades I pass on my way are just sitting in silence with each other. No one plays cards or tells a story like they used to. Kasserine did that to us. Everyone got hit by the tough reality the war holds. It's not just victory and triumph like in Oran. It's gruesome, destructive, and devastating. Due to our previous success, we just didn't want to see it. But now we did.

As I finally arrive at the command tent, I hear voices coming out of it. Loud, agitated voices. Though I can't make out what they are saying, I am able to recognize who's talking. I sit down on a log nearby.

"... fall back. What's so hard about understanding that?" Turner. He's mad.

"I- ", Pierson.

"You disobeyed a direct order, William. And you thought you'd get away with it?" Turner cuts him off.