Worries and Fears

Once my turn to keep watch begins, there is nothing more to distract me from the knowledge of what is in store for us the next morning. In the beginning of my shift, there had been the sound of hushed prayers being uttered, though they had been quieted very quickly as my partner fell asleep. Now, there is only silence. The deadly kind that sinks into your veins and makes your blood run cold. With it comes the realization that this may be the last night you fall asleep, that tomorrow could very well be the last time you ever wake up.

I am not sure if it is that that keeps me fully awake, or if it is the adrenaline. I can hear the steady breathing of the man I am keeping watch for, revealing that he is more at peace than I ever will be. He has found that in sleep, there is reprieve. Little does he realize now that waking up tomorrow brings nothing less than fear and death. It would be easier for him to pass away in his sleep, rather than face the battle that will rage in less than eight hours.

I do not have the cowardice to think about dying any other way than during the war, by the weapons of our enemy; at least, I believe I do not. I will face the battle with the same courage I know my brother has. He has survived a battle already, whereas tomorrow will mark my first. No matter the outcome, I will become a true soldier in the morning.

For the first few hours, time, seems to pause. Of course, the minutes pass by as they always have, betraying my train of thought without any remorse. In the depths of the night, I think of Susan, wondering if our wedding would ever occur. I had proposed six years ago, only two months before the Draft had been enforced. My brother and I had both been old enough to be enlisted, and regardless of the devastation it caused my fiancé, I had to serve my country as all men were obligated to. And with the promise of our immediate marriage once the war commenced, I left, headed for our mandatory training.

I should feel guilty that I rarely write to her, or my parents. I know that they are potentially consumed by worry for me. My brother is a gregarious being, never relenting from keeping in contact. I always lacked such a trait. Yet I feel that if they knew what we faced daily, that would cause grievous harm to their well-being. Nevertheless, I receive the occasional letter, informing me that they are coping with the war and the impact it has on their daily lives. As a soldier, I cannot understand the extent of what civilians undergo, just as they cannot imagine what we endure. All I know is what I am required to do, and nothing more.

There is no way to contain your last words in a letter to the people whom you love the most, especially for someone like myself, who lacks the eloquence necessary to converse with ordinary individuals about the most mundane of topics. I only hope that, if the likelihood of my death becomes reality, that my family will hear of the news. To let them think that I will be returning home to them is brutality, when in truth, I have joined my Maker.

I lack the expectation of living past tomorrow, unlike many men in my infantry. I am well aware that I am neither the best nor most experienced soldier, and have heard enough stories of even the fiercest and most level-headed fighters getting killed during battles. To assume that I have a better chance than they did is absurd. I have nowhere near the same amount of intelligence during confrontation, specifically during a full-scale war such as this. I have never experienced battle. I have not felt the heat of explosions, heard the crack of gunfire, or seen the bodies of my comrades scattered across the battlefield. I have not once felt the fear that war brings.

With such an inability to relate to what I will experience, I find that what I truly fear is death. Not my own, but the death of those whom I fight beside. My actions will hold their fates. My mistakes will have an impact on everything that they experience. For one slip of the hand, or one hesitation to react, I will bring the impending threat of death one step closer. I will have blood on my hands by the time the sun sets tomorrow. I only wish for that blood to be that of the Japanese, not the Americans. Ending the lives of my opponents, directly or indirectly, is justice. Accidentally killing any of my fellow soldiers is manslaughter.

The Lord will be with us tomorrow, as he always is. Yet I cannot help but wonder how he, among all of which he instructs us to do, the Commandments he wishes us to follow, could ever condone what we are doing now. Massacre after massacre, all to made amends for the bloodshed throughout the war of 1914, which was fought long before I was born. I still think of God’s Commandments, my mind dragging itself back to the first of his principles.

Thou shalt not kill.

It is the first of ten. The Lord's law. What happened once you broke one? Like our constant sins, are our transgressions forgiven? Or should those who disobey brace themselves to be thrown into the coldest, deepest circle of Hell? I have never given much thought toward the topic, but the unanswered questions make my stomach churn, and my head spin. The words of my partner begin to reverberate through my head, the prayer having more of an effect on me than it has before.

…Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name...

Could this be the illusion constructed by soldiers? Taking comfort in God to forgive us, when we are all killers, destined for Hell? We feel that our cause is a worthy one, but is it just in the judgment of God? With the new day arriving with every passing second, I am not as sure as I once was.

…Your Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven...

Yet this is not his will. What we are embarking on, is what he condemns. Murder. Does it matter that we are killing tyrants? They are his creation as much as we are. We are all put on earth to do his will. The Japanese are the reason for our involvement in this war. Do we have the possibility of forgiveness?

…Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us…

…Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil...

And despite this, we deter from the Word because of one thing: revenge. We, the Americans, seeking justification for the deaths at Pearl Harbor. Germany for the Treaty of Versailles. The Lord tells us to forgive, yet our first reaction is to attack. To kill. It is the universal reaction. We have given into the temptation of allowing our emotions to overcome what we know is right. And for that, I, and all others fighting this war, will pay the price; be it death and eternal life, or death and eternal punishment.

…For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours.

I can hear soft noises, the change in breathing of those around me. They are stirring, already beginning to rise as the day begins. I cannot be sure what they think, and I feel that I do not wish to know. For me, terror has not begun to sink in just yet. I can sense it beginning to congeal in my stomach, clenching and tightening as I think more upon what I am to do.

…Forever and ever…

All the while, the sounds of my comrades give me courage. They remind me of why I am here, huddled in a foxhole, waiting for the invasion to commence. I am here to make the lives of my fellow Americans worthwhile. I am fighting this war so future generations will not have to. My sacrifice is for them, for my family, for the possibility that I may prevent any young soldiers from going through what I have. I am an American soldier destined to save lives, even if that means I am to end more than one in the process.
The glow of the sun is barely there, though it brings a small amount of light to the pitch dark night. I know what it means: that my time has come to face death itself. I will not be alone, accompanied by the men in the same position as me. And all God-fearing men downed during battle will face the judgment that I fear. There is nothing I can do to prevent this, so I become resigned. With the new day come new trials. Today, with the assistance of the Lord, I will face my enemies.

Amen.