Never Truly Perished
He stared out at the wide expanse of the frozen tundra of Bastogne. His dark eyes took in the broken bodies strewn so haphazardly over the field that still reeked of battle and death. Every motion felt almost mechanical. Ronald Speirs was not a man to show his emotions so readily, but everything that had happened in the past month and a half had come crashing down on his shoulders at full force. He felt as if the weight of the world had collapsed onto his mortal shoulders. His knees trembled with the strength he was using to push back on the tidal wave of misery and regret that threatened to swallow him whole.
Ron stared adamantly at the black forest. But even the trees showed visible signs of the terror the Germans had showered on Bastogne. He could see tree bursts everywhere. Shattered limbs hung limply at the tree's sides. He could almost feel the life bleeding away from everything living thing near enough to him to see the despair, to see the loss of life.
The wind blew, frozen and indifferent, into his eyes. It made tears rise to the surface of the dark pools on his irises. That's when Ronald Speirs' soul broke for just a moment. As suddenly as a bright light appearing through a spot in the clouds, the guards around his heart burst free. He was left feeling weak-feeling as defenseless to his emotions as he had when he was seven years old. His breath caught in his throat and the tears fell down his face a drop at a time. He cried, shamelessly, for the men they'd lost to bombs and bullets. He cried for the scars that would leave forever bleeding blemishes on each man's soul. Mostly he cried because for the first time in a very long time, he felt the most gut-wrenching guilt that he had been powerless to stop any of it.
Ronald Speirs was not used to this feeling. He thrived on being in control of everything-his emotions, his men, his desires, and his hopes. He'd accepted the fact that he was already dead a long time ago. Why was he feeling this way now? Why had the dams around his heart broken now when he had to lead the men of Easy Company?
Then suddenly, the tears stopped rolling down his face. He could breathe freely again. His pulse evened out and he knew that whatever had come over him had passed. The realization that he had made it through The hell on Earth filled him with hope. He knew then that no amount of mourning would ever undo the deaths of the men surrounding him. They would never breathe again, they would never see their families again. But one thing was certain. Their memories lived on in the minds of their friends and families and as long as that held true, Ron knew that those men would never truly perish.
Today was my last day of high school and I was feeling sort of morbid, and this idea just rose in my mind so I wrote it down. I hope you all liked it. This is just a one-shot but it was fun, so maybe sometime in the future I'll make some more of these-hopefully much longer. ;) I would greatly appreciate a review or two. I know one-shots usually don't get much attention but I can hope can't I?
Disclaimer: I hold the utmost respect for the real Ronald Speirs. This is nothing more than my interpretation of something that could have happened to him after the assault on the town of Foy.