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Looking Back to Move Foward
Posted By: John Morris<Katrn@msn.com>
Date: 28 April 2003, 3:27 AM
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Battlefield 2552
I can't remember before it all began, it's a memory that I dearly wish to retrieve, but fail to grasp at every waking moment of my life. It had been 6 years ago that my services had been called upon to aid the colonies in their struggle against the threat to man kind. I was Idealistic, even cocky, which is something I look upon ashamed to this day of my life. Not even all the battle ribbons and metals, which decorate my dress uniform, consol me when I look upon the dying face of my fellow brothers in arms, calling in pain for the loved ones that they will leave behind, the ones that will feel the longer anguish that will scare a permanent mark onto their hearts. My family was part of the fallen, murdered while I sat aboard a frigate some 16 light years away, unbeknownst to me, the UNSC had known of the impending invasion and had turned a blind eye. After learning of the travesty from a fellow officer, I became for the longest time bitter, apparently Solace, the place where I was born and raised, held little value to the top UNSC brass, opting to precede with the usual mandate, protecting the "High Priority Colonies."
Looking back on it now, in on one of the few occasions I get to do so, I suppose I can somewhat see the justifications to their actions. Solace had little to no resources to benefit the dire needs of the UNSC war machine as they continued to their rapid retreat closer to Earth. 5 million people were annihilated, men, women, and children, the enemy showed no discretion, as I suppose they never had nor will. I had heard stories of heroism on that dying planet, my father being one of the main topics of discussion, my best friend Corporal James Vanderveer had grown up with me on Solace and he fought alongside of the small group of Marines who did defend their planet. Even as their numbers dwindled they fought on bravely, outnumbered, outgunned and overpowered, James and the remaining units had been forced to retreat, he said that my father continued to aid the wounded on the planet even as the last evacuation ships departed.
It doesn't surprise me really, he had always been a remarkably strong man even in times of great hardship. As a member of the UNSC during the Galactic Civil War, He had learned respect, and dignity, which he had bestowed upon me. What things I do remember of him are minute in scale, such as him picking me up under his arms and flying me around the house making gun ship noises, before he would sit me down and tell me that I would one day make a great pilot just as he had been. The Irony of that statement still gets to me, I was arrogant, deciding to become a Leatherneck, telling him that Marines were workhorses and that pilots were just for mop up, often a source of great debate in our household before I shipped out.
I do however remember the last thing he said to me before... well before he died.
"Son" he told me "Stay safe, I will see you again." I had just smiled and nodded my head, something I hated myself for years down the road. Two days later the Covenant armada struck, I can't imagine what they must have went through, and quite frankly I don't care to. My fathers death I had come to understand through my years as being "Part of the job" as he always put it, but my mother and sister? It just didn't make sense to me, the caring loving ones of society brutalized. My sister, 10 at the time still slept with her plush animals, always asking when I would return, someone she looked up to, a role model for her dreams that would never be realized.
Now a majority of the colonies lay decimated, God only knows how many innocents died in the Aliens wake, but I would feel like I fell short if I were to say in the hundreds of millions. War is hell, I had always taken this statement lightly, believing that only the cowards would say such a thing, but upon my baptism under fire, I came to know that fraise to be the truth, as I looked upon the man I had trained with and roomed with for 3 years, watching as he struggled for every breath he could draw in, coughing up blood as he pleaded for help, the plasma score burning a hole through his chest. I sat by his side for as long as I could, clasping his hand until I was forced to the front of the lines leaving him to die. I would never find out if his body had been recovered, or left to rot for the entire two weeks before the planet was glassed.
It had been a rude awakening to me, life had been precious at one point , but now it was just another thing wasted. As I had risen through the ranks, I had been increasingly desensitized to the violence around me, and the casualties that were bound to ensue. Soon I was commanding my own squad, leading my own men to die, their deaths resting squarely upon my chest, but what doesn't kill us, only makes us stronger. I wish I could become a machine in a way, my heart incased in rock, incapable of even the slightest prick, but there is always the case which at most will make me uneasy, I have learned to turn the sadness into anger, anger into strength, strength to keep me going. It is this, which I call upon now, and every time of uncertainty to make it through the ordeal, and to mourn later as I reflect, as a survivor.
That's why I'm one of the best, that's why I was chosen for this mission. I am not careless, senseless, or stupid, I am not a genetically enhanced super soldier capable of dispatching entire armadas with a single wave of my hand. I am just an average soldier with a nack for getting out or jams, and fighting for the cause, with a bit of skill and a lot of luck I make it from fight to fight, Praying to see the end of this war. It is this strength I call upon now to continue this fight, to make me through this mission, As I crouch in the bushes peering out at my men, the M5Ab clenched in my hands the only lifeline I trust. I am reminded of one thing, I'm only human, I'm 1st Lieutenant James Walker Page, 32nd Marine Jump Division, Wolf Brigade, and I'm here to win.
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