Chapter 2: Interphase
Every day I walk by the church confessing and donating like what mother said, walking through the dark and dank alleyways to the hospital. Always walking home at the same time. Always tucking in my brother to sleep and doing chores before bed. Always the same dream and the same day. The only thing that ever changes are the patients. I've learned more about Gunther, he used to be the head of his squad before getting shot in the leg and sent here, shell-shocked. His wife said that he conscripted after his shipping company failed. Said he didn't know how to run a business, only a car. In the end, through rehabilitation, medicine, and hard work, Gunther was able to say an entire sentence without stuttering after just 6 months. Years went by.
During my time at the hospital, I met many with similar situations. Where the richest of men became peasants and the playing field was even; I proudly enlisted when I was of age to contribute to the war, but others did not think like me. Father and brother relentlessly urged me to drop out, but I denied their requests just as fervently. It is the duty of a citizen to contribute to their country.
"29/08/19XX - The day before my departure, I went to church to pray and confess my sins. I passed a small boy, who looked to be of 11 or 12 years of age. His hair dishevelled, his hands and feet dirty with gunk underneath his nails. Wearing a coat too big for his body with holes around the sides, covered in mud and a hat too small for his head. His cheeks sunken in and ash-white, with signs of malnutrition, eyes lifeless and dead, without a single glimmer in those empty eyes. I gave him some bread, meat, and an egg that I packed. I handed it to him before he almost pounced on me to grab it out of my hands. After scarfing it down, he ran away but I just shrugged and went inside. "
"As I was walking out, I saw that boy again; his eyes were now similar to Gunther's. He looked me straight in the eyes before abruptly bowing and running off. I noticed a note on the ground where he was and picked it up. On the paper was a poorly written and misspelled "'Tank you'. Feeling touched, I never considered how the boy knew how to write, much less how he got the paper."
"He and thousands like him were the living proof of the strain of the war. Our country will not last many more years of this but it would be our win. We were only tens of miles away, and the fighting would end in less than 3 months. These were my thoughts only hours before reaching the front lines."
"27/09/19XX - I am currently writing in this journal of mine as of my 365th day. I have never reflected on my first day, but now it seems necessary. There is nothing new to write about, just the same blood, piss, rotten flesh, and roaches. A soldier from the Raid on Trost was transferred here, but I not if it was luck or misfortune. My dreams have changed again and are more vivid. I also miss my family more, sending letters back almost every week."
"I feel very confused and confuddled, I cannot help but doubt again after meeting the general in person. A soldier that I had breakfast with yesterday died, by diving onto a grenade to save his men and it gave me certain emotions that I'm still not sure how to deal with."
"As this could be my last entry, I want to talk about my brother now. He is alone. Father's condition will only get worse and I cannot go back home. I do regret never comforting him when he cried at night. I regret never staying home in the morning. Thinking about it, I did promise him to go pick berries out in the forest again. I wonder when we can go to that forest again" As the last drop of ink on the page dried and I put down the pen, I ponder. At least my brother will be sad when I'm gone.
Unfortunately, I was not allowed to write about the plan in fear of spies, but today would be when we are launching a prototype to overtake the enemy. Just the smoke alone will be enough to demolish the capital and should be visible from our base. A twist of fate has lead to me being a reporter for the plan, to report back should I see any signs that the enemy has discovered our plot.
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