Name to Forget, Face to Remember

Chapter I: And so it Begins…

What happens to be the end may really be a new beginning.

The mortars were coming down hard on their position and the men were panicking. Sam was just recovering from the last shell that hit a bit too close for comfort. Though he didn't like the feeling of having the wind knocked out of him he was used to it by this point. He groaned and looked around at the hell he now called his life.

The battlefield was in chaos. Soldiers were running around screaming and trying to survive the onslaught of German fire. Most were fighting back but the ones that weren't so lucky were laying everywhere, bleeding out (if they weren't already dead) and crying for their mothers or wives. There were puddles of blood everywhere and a large number of human limbs lying every which way.

It was a view that, Sam thought, that was good enough to be immortalized in one of those battle paintings that hung in famous museums. He wondered if he would be lucky enough to be part of the scene he was so lucky to have been able to partake in.

"Probably not..." He thought.

Another explosion near him brought him back to reality. He stood, and a bullet struck his helmet and bounced off. He panicked and hit the dirt; luckily, he was unharmed. He started to look for some cover. There was a fallen tree about twenty feet in front of him, so he crawled to it and hid behind it.

He checked his situation again: there was a barn to the south of his position, and the enemy was directly in front of him making a push on his position. Next to him was a dead soldier. He got an idea. He grabbed the dead man's weapon (a trusty old Chicago typewriter, he would have found that fact funny if he wasn't terrified) and put his helmet on the end of the barrel and held it up above the tree, waving it frantically from behind his cover.

"MEDIC! MEDIC! I'M A MEDIC!"

A barrage of bullets rained down on his helmet and he had to duck even lower to avoid what he could have sworn was pure hate coming at him. His helmet had the symbol and everything.

"This is not how you fight a war!"

He decided to fuck it and put his helmet back on and pulled the Thompson over the tree and blind fired towards the enemy. After the clip went dry he dropped the gun and peeked over the top of his cover. He was surprised to see that he actually nailed a few of them about fifty feet away. The rest of them were hiding behind whatever cover they could find. He pulled his head back down and looked behind him to see that his allies were retreating.

"Medic! I need a medic over here!" Sam heard someone shout behind him.

He looked to the barn and saw a soldier waving frantically at him from behind the building.

"Give me some covering fire!" Sam yelled back.

He stood up and booked it to the barn (almost being turned to mincemeat twice by stray fire). Thankfully he made it to the soldier in one piece.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"My buddy got shot! In the lung I think."

Sam looked behind the man to see another soldier sitting on the ground with his back against the wall. Also, true to the man's word, the wounded soldier started coughing up blood. Sam pushed the one aside and went to work on the man. He had been hit dead center in the right breast so he needed to act fast. Sam went into his bag and pulled out a hollow needle about two inches long, laid the man on his right side, and jammed the needle into his chest about half an inch above the wound.

He went back into his med pouch and pulled out some medical tape and a thick cotton patch. He lifted up the shirt and applied the patch while taping the sides to seal the he was finished he went to his kit and pulled off a med tag to list the wound and treatment he gave. Sam gave it to the other soldier.

"It's messy… but he'll live… hopefully." He thought.

"Can you get him back to friendly territory?" Sam asked.

"I-I think so?"

"Oh this is not the time for doubt! Well, you'd better, because he's going to die unless you get him out of here!"

The soldier nodded and picked up his friend in a fireman's carry.

"Thank you!" he told Sam and ran.

Meanwhile Sam contemplated how he handled that situation. He was a little harsh on the poor guy but he wasn't feeling loveable at the moment. He peeked around the corner and was almost killed again. This was getting old. Just then an ungodly sound assaulted his ears. He did a one-eighty and saw that a Panzer had rushed his position.

The metal beast trained its gun on the one lone Yank there. Curly black hair, dark blue eyes, thin build, and currently praying to whatever god that was out there to save his sorry ass. Unfortunately for him God had other ideas. The tank fired and Sam had just enough time beforehand to duck and run towards and behind the Panzer as it's shot obliterated the wall behind him.

He took off like a jackrabbit on steroids behind the tank but was rained upon by German fire. Pain was the only thing could feel as he clutched his side and fell to his knees. He tried to get back up but heard a sharp "crack" and felt even more pain erupted from the back of his head. Those kraut bastards had surrounded him and one of them had taken the butt of his rifle to the back of Sam's head. He couldn't understand a lick of what they said but the laughter didn't make it seem complementary, whatever it was.

One with what appeared to be an officer (thanks to the uniform he wore) came up to him, pistol in hand, and pointed it at him.

"No….. this… this isn't right… why…."

"Du stirbst hier, du Yankee Bastard"

"Go to hell…"

BANG!

The sound of a gun going off was the last thing he heard before the world went black.


Sam never had an easy life, nor did he want one, or ask for one. Unlike many he actually enjoyed hardship. And luckily for him he got plenty of it. The first incident to shape him into who he was now happened before he was even born. He never knew his father, nor had his mother ever really talked about him much. He had been raised in poverty by his mother his whole life. But they both had been content because they always told each other that they had one another. But living in the slums of Chicago all your life isn't the best way to live.

The second hardship was just living in general. With barely any money to their name they would often find themselves sleeping in shelters or alleyways. Though again, they had each other so it was never too miserable for them. He loved his mother to death and would do anything to put a smile on her face. She was his guardian angel.

The third and most painful hardship was the fact that ever since he was little he was almost obsessed with the practice of medicine. He had always dreamed of being a doctor but with no money… he would never have been able to get an education, let alone pay off any debts. That led to the biggest mistake he probably ever made. He joined the military.

He could still remember his mother's voice. Still remember seeing the tears in her eyes as she wept into his chest the day he had to leave for basic. Sam could still remember the promise he made to her.

"Now you come back! Please Sammy, don't play the hero! I can't lose you, you're the only thing i have left!"

He knew, even then, that he probably couldn't keep that promise. that's why he hated making them… But just for the sake of calming her down…

"I… I promise I'll come back ma…"

He hugged her one last time. Like it was the last time he would ever hug her again. She was beautiful. Long curly black hair, dark blue eyes, thin body… if Sam had been born a woman he would have looked just like her.

"I promise I'll come back... I promise…"

"MOM!"

He sat bolt upright and was immediately blinded by a bright light that seemed to be everywhere. His head ached and his senses seemed to be in overdrive. Even the tiniest of smells assaulted his nose and though the birds' tunes were pleasant in melody they seemed to be screeching right into his ear. His hands rested on where his ears were supposed to be to cover them but felt nothing but his hair. He was beyond confused now as he dragged his hands further up his head and felt odd protrusions that twitched when he first touched them. The weirdest thing was the fact that he could feel them twitch. On his head, not as he felt them with his fingers or through his scalp but like they had feeling of their own and were somehow part of his body!

He held them down with his hands and it helped with the noise a bit as it was starting to make his headache worse. His vision was still blurry so he took his hands off of what had to have been his ears and rubbed his eyes. His hands felt odd as well but he had bigger problems. He knew he was dead but where was he now? And why were his ears all messed up and…

"...Why do I have a snout?!"

His face had elongated into a muzzle. He took his hands and prodded his new nose and noticed that he was missing a digit on both of his hands. Not only that but he was now covered in fur. He was officially freaking out now. He had started to hyperventilate as he stared at his… "paws" in horror. He tried to stand but lost balance and fell on his rear.

"OWW!... Whaaa?"

He looked behind him and found that, to his dismay, something else had changed as well.

"Yep… I have a tail…"

He must be going insane! Sam rolled over on his hands and knees and vomited.

"This can't be happening! I'm not an animal!"

He continued to retch for a minute or so and looked around frantically for something familiar. He spotted a small stream to his right about thirty feet away and tried to walk on two feet towards it. When he fell for the third time he tried to walk to it on all fours (which annoyed him because it worked better than walking). He looked at his reflection in a small pool in both shock and horror. He had turned into a gray wolf. His fur was the color of ash with the tips of both his ears and tail midnight black.

He brought his hands to his face, (he had decided that he wasn't going to call them "paws" just yet), and started to really panic. He felt his muzzle and pulled on his ears a little. He stroked his fur and whiskers. His tail was in between his legs and he felt like throwing up again.

"T-this can't be happening!... T-this isn't… happening! No….. no no no… No no no no no no I'm not an animal! I'm not an animal…. I'm not!"

He sat and curled up into a fetal position with his head in between his legs. He tried to remember the last thing that happened to him before this whole mess.

"Okay so… France! I was fighting on the front and…. I died...,.. No….. No no no no no no no no no no!"

He began to sob. He was dead, that much was certain.

"... Ma…"

As Sam sat there crying the wind picked up slightly and he caught a new scent. He could smell something cooking… from the smell of it he would have had to guess that it was vegetables on a barbecue. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"She… She would want me to come home."

He shook his head and continued.

"I'm coming home…"

He tried to stand again and failed again.

"Well… Just a setback! I'm coming."

Sam got on all fours and walked towards the smell of food and hopefully towards civilization.

"I'm coming, Mom."


Ugh... Hey everyone... If this story looks familiar that's because I tried to post this a couple months ago. (stupid roommates... thinking it's okay to fuck with me by hacking into my stuff...) So yeah! nothing much to say cept "Here you go!"... Anyway, reviews are very much appreciated and every notice i get the someone is now following this story or just added it to their favorites list it is a big moral boost! so thank you in advance and have a wonderful day!

German translation from PapiRichtofen_ Beta read by Tremainj

Fox signing off