Rise and dull!
Blecchh…another boring morning on the boat. Man, I wish I could get some shore
leave or something. We're out here in paradise and all I get to do is write reports.
But I shouldn't complain - I did make it out alive, after all. You want to hear
about it? Fine, I guess I have some time, but it doesn't really have a happy ending.
I'll never forget the day. December 7, 1941. I was just getting out of my
bunk on the California when the explosions began. Before I could even figure
out what was going on, fire was breaking out everywhere. I somehow managed to
stumble topside and what I saw was amazing. The fleet was gone, man, GONE! Japanese
Zeroes were everywhere and the air was black with smoke. Immediately, I grabbed
the nearest turret and began blasting away at the bogeys, desperately trying
to stay alive.
imagine that this was the kind of excitement they felt on D-Day
with all those guys rushing up the beach. It's all classic war, man. The kind
they'll be making games out of someday.
When the dust finally settled, the sight was terrifying. I had survived the attack on Pearl Harbor, but the worst was still to come. I still had two handfuls of missions to deal with and boy, were they rough. I mean war is hell, but I thought I knew what I was getting into. What I got instead was a tedious romp through the worst-looking jungles and random locations in the Pacific. It wasn't all bad, but it definitely could have been better.
The explosions from that initial attack must have scrambled my brains or something,
because aiming and shooting was a chore. Either that or I had too much to drink
the night before. Even though I've won a ton of marksmanship awards, I just
couldn't seem to get the crosshairs where I wanted them. Shooting guys ten feet
in front of me was oddly difficult and movement in general just felt clunky
no matter how many adjustments I tried to make. At least the gun didn't jam.
But even if it did, I probably would have been fine since my enemies were so…stupid. Those guys were terrible shots outside of ten feet and never seemed to notice anything as I took out their buddies one by one. I could be louder than a rhino, but they would sometimes just sit and stare in the opposite direction. The only guys to watch out for were the ones that I ran into headfirst.
Ah yes, as I recall, those guys had some weird magic up their sleeves, too.
On many occasions they would seem to appear out of thin air, right before my
very eyes! Was I hallucinating from lack of food? It was almost as if certain
actions called them down out of the sky. For example, I could clear out an area
in front of a turret, but the second I touched the gun, the guys would pop up
out of the ground like worms in the rain. It was like I was suddenly living
in some badly scripted movie!
I also have to wonder what part of the world Uncle Sam dug up my own squad
mates. They could often be seen running in circles and constantly blocking my
line of fire. At least they were resilient; one of the guys was turned into
Swiss cheese by an enemy bayonet and shrugged it off like nothing happened.
Tough guys…tough guys.
our equipment seemed to malfunction. My standard issue compass often led me
down the wrong path. I'd have to backtrack through enemy territory like a cow
that got separated from the herd. Man, that was embarrassing.
What's that? You want to hear about the exotic places I visited? Well, I suppose
they were interesting. After all, it seems like everyone's always talking about
the European front and whatnot. There weren't any burnt-out towns here, but
I would hardly call it paradise. The forests had a strange look about them and
the trees seemed to form an impenetrable wall all around me, forcing me down
a strict path. Plus, it looked like everything was made out of little squares.
Base camps weren't much better. It's like all of these buildings were really,
really old, relics from a past generation that should have been retired. The
Xbox and Gamecube issue goggles improved things a bit, but not by much.
But while the sights were sore, the sounds have stuck with me to this very day. Big explosions, all kinds of ambient chatter…I swear they were even playing a rousing score while we were fighting. Must have hid the cellos in the bushes somewhere.
I'm glad that at least I didn't have to run solo missions all the time. The
brass gave me an option to have another soldier tag along to watch my back.
Yeah, we had some good times back then. We even got to run drills against each
other from time to time with Firebase PS2 flying in other troops from all over
with some fancy satellite system.
But in the end, war is still hell. There's too much confusion on this battlefield
to keep me from returning. Something about this war is driving guys on both
sides insane. Oh well, time for me to get back to my reports. Besides, the Rising
is getting in my eye.