June 13, 1945 - St. Petersburg, Russia

12.15pm.
Northwest Wind 2-3 Knots
Temp: 48F

Today was an unusual day. Normally here in the square at this time, the streets are silent and dead. The only noise that breaks the silence is the occasional passing of tanks, followed by foot soldiers. But today, people are present, civilians and soldiers alike. As if no war exists today. A small solace has been bought. A temporary peace and quiet. Hassan, my Muslim comrade, has helped me make a better understanding of his faith. Right now though, it seems, he has put it all on the line since he is fighting in a battle that according to him, or better yet, Allah, has not commissioned him to take part in. Now I think he runs on fear. Not fear of death or of battle, much less fear of the unknown. No, he runs on a fear of his family's future. He has not seen them in 3 years, and desperately wants this war to end so he can see them again.

Even grown men weep here. No one is safe from the threat of emotional catastrophe. Allied or Axis. Fascist or Nazi. Foreign or Domestic. It almost runs like a plague. Morale is what keeps us alive, although it seems that even that is dwindling down to nothing. I find myself day dreaming or losing myself in thought more often now. Even the simple thought of playing cricket with little Kazan, my nephew, puts me into a lull and even gives me a chuckle.

I admire my squadron commander. He is a silent but strong man. Only speaks when necessary. I'm only 22, but one day I hope to be like that man. One day.

~

Tomorrow is my D-Day. My beach at Normandy. Do or die. A friend made reference to tomorrow being the day that I'm honorably or dishonorably discharged. I told him that I'm sick and tired of him making reference to everything I do in some sort of military jargon. But he means well. I think.

So it is. I use this phrase a lot. Sometimes with meaning, most of the time just because it sounds mysterious. But tomorrow, that will be my signing off. Whatever the Creator brings, whether it be a spiritual time-out in my room, or a spiritual "bent over the leg" butt whoopin' with a 2 week grounding and not being able to go see my friend Bobby, I will take it for what it is and for what its worth. I think the biggest obstacles of this process are done and dealt with. Now the only thing lacking is to receive my commission or marching orders and git to getting it done.

I'm nervous right now, but quite honestly, I'm more nervous in an anxious way. Like the way you get nervous and excited the night before going on vacation and you cant sleep. My parents and friends have been supportive. They all say the same thing: whatever gets you back on track. Like I stated earlier, the steps are done. Ive done it by the books. Now its time to see if I get community service or time in the penitentiary.

What I'm sure of, regardless of the consequences, is that I'll return to the ranks eventually. I cant label a time or day, but eventually it will happen. What Ive learned and seen isn't something that's easily forgotten. The world has nothing for me, nothing of value. Its akin to getting your badges ripped off. I think what has gone through every one's mind is the time less phrase that adds insult to injury, rather then help teach a lesson: "you should have known better".

I'm a fighter. I always have been. But now, I cant fight. I wont. I wont be persuaded otherwise. The One who Lies is eyeballing me now. He sees me. He sees and has seen what Ive done. I picture him in my mind standing in the shadows cracking a smile, in a egotistical (and dare I say "Douche bag") sort of way. He's seen this too many times before. He thinks he knows whats going to happen now. Well, I have news for him, news he isn't going to like.

I'm a fighter.

This is a battle he wont win again...

June 13, 1945 - Florence, Italy

1.38pm.
North Wind ~ 9-8 Knots
Temp: 61F


The chill of a northern front makes it feel like home. Ambrosini had to be sent to the Medical tents. Trench foot, head cold, and maybe even constipation. He should be right in about a week. Its gonna be tough without his presence. His jocularity eases everyone. Even in battle, he manages to make us chuckle. I received word through my brother on the south front that my wife had our son without a single complication. He's doing well and already has my energy. I can tell he's going to be strong like me and his grandfather. Chanto has a great idea of starting a printery in his hometown. As it is, Ive never been to Milan, but seeing to it that as of right now, its one of the few untouched towns, we may make the trip, my family and I.

In two days time, our orders are to parachute in to a DMZ rally point. There we meet up with the Germans, and hopefully block off the Americans and the Canadians. America. I would love to see that country. When all this is done I would like to see and smell and even taste the "Land of Opportunity". For now though, I can only day dream in between the football matches in the brush with the other infantrymen.


~


Yesterday was a good day, but also a terrible day. When you get caught up in good times, it feels like a stack of bricks coming down on you when you snap back into reality. I didn't sleep much last night. Roughly 3 hours. All I could do was think. I couldn't turn my mind off. I was awake while the world was asleep. I'm gonna be one lonely Latino...


"So."
"Yea?"
"Nothing."
"Sure?"
"Yea."
"...I love you too."

June 13, 1945 - London, England

2.19pm.
No Wind
Temp: 83F


Mirko made mention of how the days feel like they're getting longer and not shorter. Its close to summer now, which only leads me to believe that Mirko's not a very bright man. I got close to death again. My gun jammed on me right in the middle of a firefight. Maybe its the slop and sausage Ive been eating, but I no longer feel the excitement of warfare. As it is, I was in the .1 percentile of people who actually enjoyed defending this country. Now, I don't care anymore. I miss my pub. I miss my hound. I miss Rachel. Oh how I miss Rachel. The way she would sing to me, while I held her. Everything. I miss it all.

Tomorrow we start a new reconnaissance route. Intel says its legit, but really, intel can kiss my union jack hide for all I care. I wish for a few hours I could grab a pint and some chips. Anxious for no reason at all now. I wonder if someone out there could give me an honorable death. End this all. Heaven awaits, friend.

~

Days feel few and far in between. I'm trying to make what feels like the last days the best ones. So that way, if I get the boot, at least I can have some good last memories to keep the loneliness at bay. I had lunch with a good friend today. Correction: best friend. We had some good laughs, some serious talk, and then the infamous "5 minute hug". I explained everything, and everything was understood. I was afraid to mention it at all because the reaction that usually ensues is a disappointing one. Contrary to that, I got the opposite.

"...No one on this earth is perfect. We all make mistakes. We all do. But, you have to capitalize on those mistakes. Did you learn your lesson? Of course you did. Now we both know that its best to expect the worse. Lets say the worse is what your dealt. Learn from it. You're an incredible guy. This will only make you more incredible. You'll make it out. Think of it as a test. I know you. I know you better than you know yourself. And I also know you absolutely hate to lose, like you always say. I know its not in your vocabulary. But this time you have to lose to win again. Start over. Do it from the beginning. With your experience, it should be easier, but more profound for you.

"Look, like I said, I know you already. I know what you're thinking. Will I be here when you return? Of course. I'm going to be the first one to say 'Welcome back! I missed you. We have to catch up.' The same way you always tell me that I hold a permanent place in your heart, well the same goes for me. You have your spot. No one, absolutely no one will take that spot. It'll be different without you. You make up part of my life. More than you know. More then it might seem. More then I probably let you know. I don't want to sound pessimistic, but we both have to be realistic. Understand? I love you. My mom loves you. Your friends love you. After all this blows over, after the dust and smoke settle, you'll be so much stronger. So much more mature. So much more experienced. Also, you'll see that your real friends are the ones that will say 'Welcome back' instead of 'That's what you get'. 


"I really will miss you, especially now. Maybe I didn't say it enough, but you mean so much to me. You've been there since the beginning. I remember that time we first met at the asamblea and then again at the party. Instantly you were already giving me 'guy advice'. I have my friends and my best friends, but none of them look out for me like you do. Please put Jehovah first. Please. Promise me you will. I want to see you again. I want us to go to Sonic and eat ice cream after watching a movie. I want to steal your food from Olive Garden and drink your Presidente margarita when the waitress isn't looking when we go to Chili's. Just like old times ;)


"About what you told me earlier, I wont forget it. You're right, I think you do deserve a chance. But like you said yourself, first things first. As of right now, I'm going to concentrate on spiritual goals. Everything will fall into place on its own. When you come back, assuming of course the worst case scenario, then we'll talk. We'll see where we stand. Okay? I promise. I'll be here. My mom will be here. And we'll be praying for you constantly. Come back as soon as possible. If I have to, I'll keep in touch with your mom. I still have her number :P


"If you feel down, just read this over. Read it again and again and again. The pictures. Look at them. As many times as you have to. Put them up on your walls in your room like you used to (just the ones of you and me though, cause those are the best ones :P) Cling to the memories of the good times. I will.


Te Kiero Mucho, hurry back OK?
XOXO"

Quite possibly the best sending off letter I have ever received. Bittersweet it is, no? Who wants to leave after reading something like this.

Like I mentioned earlier, I was afraid to mention this. But like any true friend who has been there through thick and thin, I got a positive reaction. Time will tell.

But hey, at least my dad's not gonna kick me out of the house. Whoo!

"Look how well your hands fit in mine."
"That's cause you're my boo, Boo!"

June 13, 1945 - Brussels, Belgium

11.51am.
North Wind ~ 1-2 knots
Temp: 81F

Waking up to the sound or smell of gun powder and flesh has become the norm now. When it isn't present is when something is wrong, or about to go wrong. Nightmares are a welcome experience now, since a nightmare is a nightmare and reality is reality. Quite often I find myself in a firefight not knowing whether I'm dreaming a dream or breathing and living in reality.

The bunkers are becoming a cesspool of emotions. Life is all but gone, but given the circumstances not to mention every body's long face, you'd think these bunkers were waiting lines for execution. Honestly, in hindsight, that is what they are. Part of me wishes that for just a brief moment, just a few minutes, I could cross into the enemy territory unarmed and shake hands with the foreigners. So I could tell them I don't hate them. I'm not here because I want to be. I'm here cause I'm forced to be. No hard feelings.

Nikolai made mention of his wife and daughter back home. He misses them so much. Sometimes in a fit of impatience, he kicks over artillery cans and hurts himself. Says that pain is better then sadness. I agree. Me, I don't have much back home. I barely even have a home.

When...oh, when will this all be over?

~

I don't know whether to be upset or shocked. I think I'm feeling both right now. I wasn't expecting the phone call from her mom. I didn't get a chance to say anything else besides 'hello'. I didn't even have a chance to apologize. Honestly, though I don't think it would've done much. She called me 'estupido'. I cant even remember the last time someone called me that. In any case, she said what she had to say. I'm sure eventually she'll feel better about it. Mothers will always be mothers. I expected better from her, but her feelings are her feelings, and I respect that. What I did was wrong, I know. But now my situation is in the hands of a greater power then those of imperfect men. Eventually this will all blow over. Just a memory. A lesson learned. But, damn...she was upset. Almost like a mother bear goes into kill-mode when one of her offspring is in grave danger. She reared up on me over the phone and vented her anger and frustration. If that's what I got from her mother, I don't even want to think about what her family is giving her.

Solace, a precious commodity.

June 13, 1945 - Carentan, France

8.41pm.
North/Northeast Wind ~ 10 knots
Temp: 67F

The winds have brought change to the field of battle. An eerie feeling of storm lingers over the camp. The calm before the lightning and thunder puts everyone on point. Its indiscernible if a flash is from a lone mortar being thrust from its cannon, or the electromagnetic waves that make ground with the earth in a terrifying yet beautiful display.

I over heard one of the infantry men ask his comrade in what sounded like a low growl, "Are you ready to meet your maker?". His companion takes a drag from his cigarette, looks down at his shoes, then at the sky as he winces and replies "You think he's ready to meet me?"

Time will tell. These winds will tell. Either way, I wont sleep content until its over.

~

In all honesty, I feel better as the days go by. The calm before the storm is worse then after the storm. Right now, as we speak, the calm in itself is rupturing my ear drums. When silence is so loud you cant bear it any longer. The feeling of hypocrisy is now a memory. Everything has been said. Nothing weighs on me anymore. Better days are on the way. I can see the sun just over the horizon.

Here's to you. Cheers.

5th gear at 7200rpm.

I always wonder how I would've fared as a WWII soldier. Either side, it doesn't matter. Would I have the valor and courage to face my enemy? To stand firm in the face of opposition? Could I hold my ground?

I want to keep a captains log. Day by day. If at times, hour by hour. Many sleepless nights are around the corner. Words will be said. Emotions will run high. There will be anger, as well as disappointment. Shame. Quite possibly even disgust. At what cost though? To some people 'peace of mind' happens to be a very high commodity. Not many people have it, and those that supposedly claim they do, only base that off of what they think peace of mind should be.

I toss and turn as impending doom, as i like to call it, nears. I say impending because I know and I understand that its only because of my egotistical and headstrong behavior that I'm in this situation. I wont say what i did, reader, but i will say that of all the things Ive done in my life, this is the one that i really truly wish i could go back in time to change. A very close friend of mine made the remark that god has different ways of working everyone's mind and conscience to open their eyes to the truth. Sometimes its a brutal truth, sometimes it could be more of a 'Eureka' moment. His point was that if if by some chance I could go back in time to change my actions, would I still have gotten the punchline. Would I still understand what god has chosen for me to straighten out every kink in my relationship with him? This put me in a deep thought. My mother would always make a little remark when we were little and she suspected us of lying. "God always has ways of making the truth come out", she would say.

But what if its not just the crime he wants to hear, but of how I feel and what makes me tick? I might be missing the big picture. Yes, crime committed. But what if its not only that? Something I'm overlooking, and maybe have been overlooking. At least this is what my heart is telling me.

Ive been wrong before, you know.

We all have an Achilles heel.

Ever hear of the man that had no fear? Irish folklore fascinates me so much. This man was able to become a king and warrior because the gods blessed him with the capability of not having fear. This worked out quite well for him. He eventually began conquering the un-conquerable lands. Gaining riches, women, and a multitude of servants. But as the story goes on, his lack of fear became his mortal wound. He was too cocky, too arrogant, and most of all, to full of confidence to listen to reason. See, he wasn't superhuman. Not in the least. He didn't have super strength, or x-ray vision. He couldn't even fly. His downfall was a well. Something so insignificant and at the same time, inanimate. He fell into a well and drowned. The well of youth. The gods had a fountain of youth, that once the water touched your lips, you returned to your adolescence. The only trick to the well is that you have no rope or bucket to raise the water out of the well. The warrior king decides the only thing to do is jump in the well. He refused to listen to his second lieutenant who warned him that the well is infinite. There is no bottom. The Egotistical Fearless king met his fate soon thereafter.

I thought I was fearless. Now my "fearlessness" has me backed into a corner waiting for the trigger to pull. What comes around goes around. I guess not many people, myself included, take this seriously. There is something that I've done that cannot be undone. There are feelings Ive hurt that cannot be un-hurt. Ive taken so much for granted, that now I have nothing else to lean on. 

The ice is giving out. I have no rope. 

Fair enough. I guess its my time now.