𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺

Gettysburg

War was familiar to man. At our time, it was known by children that one day, they would be drafted in the unfortunate case their country needed them. Mothers crying over their boys, not so little anymore, being taken away to the fields of battle. But in the face of war, they really were so small. No training could prepare a boy for the lives they would take with their own hands. That was war. You died a boy, or died a man.

My mother didn't cry when I was taken away. She and my father had raised me for war, specifically for the government to place me in their massive game of chess. I was one of many pawns with guns.

But even with a great mind built for the game ahead, just as any other boy, I arrived to the field and felt insignificant, often feeling like a little kid again. Every time I go into battle, I think of my childhood; the games my brother and I use to play. I always won, rightfully as the oldest brother. It felt necessary to teach him that not every battle could be won.

He'd go, "Bang! Bang!" Shooting from his small little hands with a high pitched voice. But I would always be ahead of him, having already found cover as I threw an explosive at him. "Boom!" I'd go, trying to make my tone as deep as possible. He'd laugh loudly as he fell onto the floor, another game lost.

Now, part of the real game, I wish I had gotten my sound effects right. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang... The bullet shells never stopped falling and sinking onto the muddy floor. It wasn't as high pitched as we thought. The bullets were actually so loud, it came out as a deep sound, blasting through the whole field. The aftermath would leave a ringing noise in your ears, constantly giving you a headache as you took cover from the incoming attacks.

Explosives were rather rare on the general field. All the grenades and landmines were kept by the borders and were used by generals, colonels and majors. But as rare as they were, I had reached borders that were meant to be breached. "Boom" wasn't exactly a great example of the sound but there was no other onomatopoeia that could really describe the damming noise. It resonates over your whole body, shaking the ground with you as you hope for dear god it doesn't collapse somehow underneath your feet.

When a chess piece is hit though, they don't laugh. They scream. It's quick, but loud enough to haunt your dreams. I wouldn't know how painful it is, I have been lucky enough to not get hit by the enemy. I've seen the burn marks that the bombs have left on my fellow soldiers, the deaths caused by the mighty power of fusion.

All the sounds keep me up at night. The feel of trenches make it worse. When it rains, the passages we dug out get filled with muddy water, our walking slowed down, dead bodies bump into you while you shoot at the enemy, floating their way back and forth. Trying to get rid of the water is almost impossible. A real sight for my dreams to follow the blaring of the fight.

My night terrors woke the whole camp up every single night. So now, I don't sleep. The most rest I get is when my lids are too heavy to keep me awake, a few minutes of rest, dreamless. Any sign of an image appearing in my head is a sign that I have rested enough to keep me going. At night, I can keep watch for the rest of the camp, make sure my officers aren't killed in their sleep by the enemy.

"Sergeant Green," Officer James came up to me as the fire on camp was being shut off, "You've taken night guard for two weeks straight, are you sure you don't want me to take your place?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." I pointed towards the tent. "We need everyone rested. We're ending this tomorrow."

"Well... today." James laughed. "Zero two hundred hours."

I chuckled along but gave him a serious look. "Yes, yes. Make your way in before I shoot you for being a smart ass."

He was quick to go inside, tired from the day's fighting. We had taken down the Queen of their chess set, they only remainder was for the Confederates' King to surrender before us. Today, as Officer James said, was the end. We wanted to end this battle as soon as possible, even if it took restless hours of shooting and guarding. The Union was surely to win this one.