1.1 Memory

Taking another shot, he rubbed his temples and tried to keep the memories away. However, they kept trying to intrude. another shot down and his resistance waned.

"Hey...are you okay?" The voice of his daughter-in-law asked. She was a sweet girl. She was newly married to his step-son. She was a cute little thing with bright blue eyes. He didn't laugh much, but she had that charm about her that got passed his walls.

"Sure...why do you ask?"

"You look upset, Bob." She sat next to him and took a shot herself.

"Just the past is haunting me is all." He smiled.

"Ah...well...I know how that goes." She smiled and patted his hand, "If you ever need to talk...I'm here."

He sighed and removed his hand and took a shot. He never talked about the past...not even to Paula, his lovely wife, but for some reason his lips moved against his will. Perhaps one memory that kept him awake at night needed to be told...

The year of bloodshed, 1944

They pushed past the German front and his platoon was stationed on a hill overlooking a small French town. He didn't get why they couldn't be stationed in the town. But what did a mere 17 year old know? He tossed a little stick and sighed. Tom walked over and sat next to him and asked, "What's wrong, Bobby?"

"I'm outta smokes." He responded. But he never really smoked, he missed civilization.

"Ah, we could head down to the town if you want."

"We're now allowed to?" Tom nodded with a grin, "Then...what are we waiting for?" He jumped up. Tom laughed. Tom was a few years older then him. Tom was the only one who knew all his secrets. Tom was his buddy...the only one who cared about him.

The two of them headed down the hill. Some others followed. There wasn't much in the town. Most of the civilians left when the Germans took over. The town was barren and destroyed, but it was the closet Bob had gotten to civilization in what seemed an eternity. However, they had to be careful, because the Germans still had much of the area occupied. 

When they weren't gorillaing the Germans or sitting on that damn hill, they would make trips to that little town. Weeks passed like this.

Finally, the command was given to move out. The boys packed up their gear and headed down the hill.

"Thank fucking God." Tom said.

"Yeah." Bob chuckled and got behind Tom and in formation.

"We'll have to come back to that town when the war is over." Tom declared.

"Agreed." Bob smiled.

"Drink some wine and sleep in a feather bed in their hotel. If it ever re-opens. Maybe find a nice gi-"

BOOM!

"TAKE COVER!" Yelled one of the men.

Bob fell to his knees and grabbed his gun. He was a little disorientated. Was that a piece of skin on his shoulder? He shook his head and once his ears were finished ringing, he looked over at the carnage in front of him. His face paled, "T-Tom?"

Tom was no more...

An older Bob took another shot, "We went up and down that path a million times...gah. I don't get why it happened to him? Why not me? Why didn't I step on that land-mine?"

His daughter-in-law shrugged, "I'm not sure...I'm sorry though."

Bob shrugged and looked away, "It doesn't matter now...it's just a memory."