
"RATATATATATATTAAA!!!!" The disturbing sound of rifles rattling away was ringing in my ears... bullets ricocheted off the panel of scrap metal we used as a cover and smoke was wafting out of the bullet holes. Jake, Larry and I used up our last magazine of bullets before we took cover again. As we were reloading our rifles, Larry let out a groan of pain and Jake and I immediately knew he had been hit. "Ugh..." Larry moaned in excruciating pain as dark, thick blood slowly flowed out of his mouth through a small opening at the side. Jake turned to Larry to examine his wound as I kept a lookout for any approaching hostile forces. "You're gonna be fine Larry, just hold tight and bear with it..." Jake said to him with teardrops appearing at the corner of his eyes. "You're gonna make it through bro, just hang on there!" Jake forced Larry to stay awake by making him clench on tight to his rifle. Despite all these, we all knew the truth. The chances of Larry surviving was slim, and we knew that he could next remain alive for the next five minutes. Another life was going to be lost, another man was going down, another brave warrior was going to be defeated, another comrade would be gone... forever...
When Jake was sure that Larry was holding on to his rifle as tight as he can, he and I rose above our cover to face our worst fears bravely. Sweat was pouring down my forehead as I focused and aimed down my sight. I took down a man or two before the return fire grew too heavy for us to take. We crouched down to catch a breath and reload our rifles, before rising up yet again. As Jake bravely fired away at his hated enemy, I caught sight of Larry's blood-bathed hand slipping away from his rifle and fell onto the dirty, brown soil with a muffled thud. He took his last breath, glanced at me, before shutting his eyes permanently. His head tilted sideways and he collapsed onto the soil, face first. We were right. Larry did not make it through. He never was going to. I swallowed hard and fought back my tears. Jake took a quick glance at Larry and was saddened too. Filled with sadness and anger, I wanted revenge. Holding up my rifle, I aimed and fired...
As my vision was blurred by tears, I started to drift into a semi-conscious state and thought about war. How is fighting this war going to benefit anyone? I just lost a comrade, and here I am, killing others'? Every few seconds a soldier goes down in cold blood. Every few seconds a family loses a member just to save another. How would fighting this war help? Fighting a war to end another? I find it ironic. The only true way to end this war is for us to put down our rifles and let our so called "enemies" know that we want them to do the same. This is the only way we can make peace. But this is the only way that is impossible to achieve. "As long as there is men, there is bound to be war" someone once said. I find this very true.
"Gaz wake up!!!!! What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to be fighting a war my friend! Stay more alert you hear me!!!??!" Jake's thundering voice seemed to be louder than the war itself. I held up my rifle and took aim. As I was going to pull the trigger, I felt a huge sense of guilt in me. Should I or should I not? In war, people get killed ruthlessly like it was perfectly normal. I find that very disturbing. But still, what can we do? If we don't kill them, we would be the ones ending up dead! And so, even as bullets whizzed past me and grenades blew up part of our cover, Jake and I fought back the hostile resistance with hope that this war would end soon...