Shades of War: A Collection of Four Short Stories Read Free

try.”
                  “Thank God. I’ve been here for days. I don’t know where to go or what to do.”
                  What calmed the man was the fact that in the end the voice was simply that of a scared young man. He had plenty of practice taking care of scared young men. The apparition had a human like form, but that was about it. There were no real visible features. Just a simple hazy figure crouched next to him. Things like this don't happen, do they? Chill out. You need to calm down. Remember, indecision and inaction kill. Make a decision and act. If the kid is a ghost, why would he be here?
                  “Son, can you tell me your name?”
                  “Yes, sir. Wilkes. Mike Wilkes.”
                  Guessing, the man pulled out a small headlamp from a cargo pocket on his left side. Cupping the light in his hand, the man turned it on. The light was covered with a red lens that gave off very little ambient light. He quickly checked the three bodies in the crater. The uniforms were not too much help. They were too mangled and bloody. So with his bare hands he searched against clammy skin and frozen blood.
                  He found what he was looking for around the neck of the second body. The body he was looking at had horror for a head, if you could call it that, as half the head was missing. The other half was that of a slim young man. Blonde hair and one lifeless blue eye peered up at the man. He pulled the dog tags off the body. Yep, the dog tag said it all:
                 
                  Wilkes, Michael
                  AB NEG
                  576-31-1000
     
                  “Son, do you know what happened?” asked the veteran.
                  “I don’t know. We were fighting the Slopes when I heard the artillery coming down. There wasn’t even time to do anything. I tried to take cover, I promise. I saw a couple of impacts, a flash, and then nothing. Then I woke up here. I was alone. They were all gone. My unit is gone. They're all dead. I’m the only one left.”
                  What do I tell this kid? How do I do this? He had notified next of kin before when a soldier's relative died, but he had never had to tell the dead they were dead. The man paused took a deep breath and did what he had to do.
              “Son, you’re dead.”
                  The figure didn’t answer right away to the comment. After a few seconds the apparition answered.
                  “I figured so. My body is right there.”
                  "Yes, it is. At least I think that is you."
                  "It's OK, sir. I thought that's how it was."
                  "Can I ask you a question?"
                  "Sure."
                  “Why did you stay here? Why didn’t you leave?”
                  “And go where? Do what, sir? I don’t know why I’m stuck here, and I have nowhere to go. Plus, all my friends are here.”
                  Sadly the man understood. A soldier’s unit was his home, his fellow warriors his family. I still can't believe I'm sitting here in a crater having a conversation with a ghost. There was no choice, he knew his duty. He was a not just a veteran and a survivor, he was a leader. Army leaders were taught one mantra: Mission First, Soldiers Always. His mission had been simple: move south and find friendly lines. Now it was a little more complex. He just had to take care of a soldier along the way. OK, I got this. We can do this.
                  "Son, you’re coming with me.”
                  “Huh, where are we going?” The blue phantasm asked doubtfully.
                  “We’re going south. We’ll figure things out along the way. Come