" T o M a n n y . “
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@genesledge
" T o M a n n y . “
The Pacific + writing
The Pacific + writing, pt. 2
god created everything, right? the heavens, seven seas, marine corps…even the japs.
please hide me, lord
Female Ass-Kickers Challenge
Theme Twelve: Uniform
The Pacific ~ Sgt. Lena Basilone
You wanna explain the math of this to me? I mean, where’s the sense of riskin’ the lives of the eight of us to save one guy? - Saving Private Ryan (Dir, Steven Spielberg 1998)
the pacific - okinawa
we’re never getting off this island.
Everyone looked as if they were dead. Hollow men whose souls had been ripped out from their chests and eyes that were devoid of their sparks that once defined them as an individual, boys with hopes and dreams that had been crushed by the boots of war. They’d all been through a kind of horror that they could neither face again or recollect without seriously repercussions. All of them looked as if they’d lost a part of themselves by looking into the in the eyes of wars grim reality for too long. In the end, that’s exactly what had happened. No one who’d gone through what they were going through came back the same. They were all different, they were all scarred.
One would think to leave them to their gloomy solitude, to let them be with their comrades who had survived with them. One would want to leave well enough alone. Leaving them alone however was not what Elizabeth thought would be good for them. Many of the men walking into the compound were injured in some shape or form and in need of some TLC. Elizabeth and her unit of only a few nurses and doctors might be out of tender love, but they certainly could care for them all.
Out of all the men who were sitting on a rock formation some other battalion had created during their time at the compound, Elizabeth sat beside one who looked to be lost in thought and completely alone. For a minute, she thought he hadn’t noticed her, so she cleared her so as to do just that. After getting his attention she motioned with her eyes his attention to the blood and grim on his hands that almost hid his injured palm. He had a large gaping wound leading from one side of his palm to the other.
❝Would you mind if I take care of that for you?❞ Now her eyes were fixed on his face, and she hope he’d answer by giving her his hand. ❝It might sting a little, but it’s better than it getting infected.❞
Eugene was thinking about home to distract himself from the hellish wasteland he'd somehow found himself in. He stared at a burnt and broken tree trunk stuck in the dirt and imagined replacing it with a huge oak tree like the ones in Alabama, replacing the muddy water sitting in puddles by his feet with crystal clear rivers, and the war-torn soldiers that passed him by with his mother and father.
"Would you mind if I take care of that for you?" Eugene didn't look up at first, assuming the young nurse was adressing anyone but him. She cleared her throat and he finally looked at her. "It might sting a little, but it's better than it getting infected."
Eugene nodded and placed his hand in Nurse Pierce's, a blank and far off look on his face. He tried not to feel pain anymore. Through the months he'd spent in the marines, Eugene had learned to ignore it, block it out, forget about it, but it wasn't always easy.
Blood seeped from his palm.
for he today that sheds his blood with me
shall be my brother.
Eugene Sledge;
War is brutish, inglorious, and a terrible waste. Combat leaves an indelible mark on those who are forced to endure it. The only redeeming factors were my comrades’ incredible bravery and their devotion to each other. Marine Corps training taught us to kill efficiently and to try to survive. But it also taught us loyalty to each other—and love. That esprit de corps sustained us.
"With the Old Breed: At Peleliu and Okinawa" p. 315
He shook his head as he bit on the inside of his cheek "Well- y’know what they say, no news are good news. I write them if I loose a limb, they write me if my gran’ma throws in the towel." he said and while giving the horizon a once over, making sure there wasn’t nothing lurking in the hills. Naturally there was always shit lurking just out of sight on these islands, but for now everything seemed quiet.
Eugene wasn't sure what to say, so he nudged a little closer to Snafu as if to comfort him. He rested his hands behind his head and gazed up at the sky, light was beginning to peak out behind the clouds covering the hills in a light pink glow.
It was a terrible thought to think a place so ugly could look so beautiful.
Suddenly, there was a gruff yell from one of the Lieutenants. "Up and at 'em! Rise and shine!"
Eugene began to regret not sleeping as he forced his tired limbs forced to stand, but at the same time he thought the long talk with Snafu was worth it. He slung his gun over his shoulder and pushed on his helmet, ready for another day of war.