Bombs, Tree Bursts, and Fireworks

by ber1719

On July 4, 1944 all that had mattered in his life was the preservation of his brothers in arms. They'd shed their blood, tears, and sweat that day not for America or its freedom, but for each other.

Bombs, tree bursts, and Fireworks

The Fourth of July had always been his favorite holiday. Even as a little boy, he'd known the significance of this day. Now, after what seemed like a lifetime later, he understood it even more. The preservation of human liberties had become his whole life. The entirety of his existence for nearly four years had been the upholding of American ideals. Freedom. Free will. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Yet somewhere in the middle of the European Advance, he'd forgotten all that. On July 4, 1944 all that had mattered in his life was the preservation of his brothers in arms. They'd shed their blood, tears, and sweat that day not for America or its freedom, but for each other.

Now sitting on a crowded field surrounded by his friends and family, he felt lost and confused. Picnic baskets, giggling children, and checkered outdoor blankets had replaced the stale bread, the screaming soldiers, and the muddy foxholes. He almost missed it because no one here really understood everything that he had been through. No one but the men of Easy Company. He missed Luz's jokes. And Winters' warm reassurances that everything would be okay. Then, he realized that he wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here. Away from the fighting. Away from the chorus of war. There were no dying men surrounding him as his sister handed him a hotdog. There were no bombs and tree bursts falling on his ears and body. Nothing but the stars and the gleaming streams of color that were the fireworks.

He knew that the other men of Easy Company must be thinking the same things he was. And if that was the case, then they weren't alone and lost at all. They were all simply trying to find their ways in a life following the most brutal, most bloody, war the world had ever seen.

The men of Easy Company were standing alone together. Just like they always had. On D-Day, at Camp Toccoa, and in the Hell on Earth that was Bastogne. They stood alone together, then as they would for the rest of their lives. A pillar of the finest soldiers the United States had ever seen. An example by which every woman, man, and child should follow.

Seriously hate the title, but you know I've got a problem with titles especially the ones for one-shots. :) I really hope everyone likes this. The inspiration for this came to me a couple nights ago when I was just thinking about how the guys must feel when they weren't in the middle of battle for July 4 after the war. Please review if you get the chance and for all of you Pacific fans, check out the other short story I posted today, Running From the Memories, and PLEASE review for that one too. I'm so nervous about posting that one it's not even funny lol. Oh yeah and this one-shot is supposed to be ambiguous. :D

Disclaimer: No disrespect is meant toward the real men of Easy. I make nothing off this publication.