![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
otherhawk.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
section7mfu2015-08-03 06:51 pm
The End of the Innocence - Short Affair Challenge 03/08/2015
Prompt word - flutter
Wordcount - 996
The title is a Don Henley song title. Just btw.
The End of the Innocence
Napoleon gazed at himself in the mirror slowly inspecting his uniform. Green might not be his colour, but today he looked more like a man than he ever had before. Besides, he very much doubted that the US Army was going to change their uniform choices based on his sartorial preferences. With a frown, he brushed a speck of dust off his lieutenant's bar. Better. He didn't want anything to get in the way of that shine.
He grinned; no doubt he could expect more good-natured ribbing about his pristine uniform. It wasn't his fault that he made everything look good. Right back from when he'd first shown up for ROTC training, hair neatly combed and smelling of expensive cologne, his fellows had been certain he wasn't taking it seriously. He'd proved them wrong, when he'd come top in every single challenge. This was the life he wanted, and he had plans to excel.
Still, the butterflies were beginning to flutter in his stomach. These were his very last moments off base before they shipped out overseas. Just think; in two days time he'd be in Seoul, and after that they'd be heading up towards the 38th parallel and the invading communists. Keeping the world safe from democracy, that was him.
It would have been nice if his grandparents had answered his last letter. He'd hoped that hearing he was bound for Korea would be enough to jolt Grandfather out of his anger. But after all he'd said when Napoleon signed the contract that he wanted nothing more to do with him. The old man had never backed down in his life, why was it surprising that should be the case this time as well? He wanted Napoleon to follow him into the diplomatic service, as though that could somehow wipe away the shame that Father had brought on them, but Napoleon wanted to be his own man, not just do what the family expected. Besides, he knew himself well enough to admit he wasn't suited for the diplomatic service. Oh, he had the charm and he had the wits, just like Grandfather said, but he was a man of action, not just words. He was going to make his life count.
At least he wasn't short of people wishing him well. Aunt Amy had turned up yesterday, full of goodbyes and good wishes, and she'd given him a care package and a St Michael medal to keep him safe and turned away so he wouldn't see her crying. And before that he'd had dates with Cindy, Louisa, Mary-Jane and Abigail, all eager to make sure that his last days stateside were something special. He'd promised he'd write to them all. Frankie joked that he wasn't going to have time to do any soldiering.
A horn blared outside - the cab, here to take him to his new life. He took one last look at the mirror and gave a bright smile to the man looking back at him.
*
Four days in Korea, and his uniform was covered in so much dust that the green hardly showed at all now. He was tired and filthy, and the fear was a constant friend now, keeping him sharp, but he felt more alive here and now than he ever had in his life.
He took point scouting along a dirt road, walking the opposite direction to a long, winding column of weary refugees, their faces showing numb stoicism. The children were the worst, their eyes large with bewilderment. He wished he had more candy to offer them, but he'd already given away what he'd got from Aunt Amy.
In reality it all happened in a matter of seconds, but every time he remembered, he saw it in slow motion. The North Korean soldier stumbling out of the ditch, shouting out in alarm and raising his rifle....only Napoleon was quicker. He'd shot a three round burst before the Korean had even managed to aim. For a moment the soldier just stood there while the red blood blossomed across his chest. He was mere feet away, and Napoleon could see that he was even younger than he was, no more than nineteen...just a kid, really. His eyes showed the same bewilderment as the children from the road. It was an age before he fell.
He approached the body cautiously. The kid was lying on his back, staring up with dead eyes towards the sun. There was blood bubbled around his mouth, and his skin had already lost the colour - shine - of life. He was dead. A moment ago he'd been alive, and now he was dead.
Without warning Napoleon's stomach lurched, and he found himself on his hands and knees beside the kid, spewing up his guts. Shakily he sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, conscious of footsteps approaching behind him.
"On your feet, lieutenant," Major Morgan said gruffly, holding a hand out to help him up. "You're alright. First time killing a man?"
He nodded shakily. "Yes, Major."
Morgan nodded at him, not unkindly. "Don't worry. It hits most of us like that the first time. I'd tell you it gets easier, but the truth is, the moment you realise how easy it is, you'll probably lose your lunch all over again. Try not to think about it. Try not to humanise them. And don't try and keep count."
Eventually, he was going to kill so many people that he wouldn't be able to keep count. The thought was huge and somehow terrifying. "Yes, Major," he said .
"That was some quick reactions there though," Morgan went on, clapping him on the shoulder. "You did good, son. Now, come on. Move out."
He fell back into position, Frankie moving forwards to take point this time. As they marched on, he couldn't help looking back at the kid, still lying by the side of the road.
He wondered what he'd thought he was saving the world for?
no subject
I thought the first part was tops (that glimpse of Aunt Amy!), and then the end was even better.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
If Napoleon only knew...
no subject
Thanks for commenting.
no subject
A nice nod to the Secret Scepter Affair...I think that's right. Major Morgan started out in the right, Napoleon stayed the course.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject