Третья мировая война 1946 - Красная волна - Сталин атак впервые - Альтернативная история

Третья мировая война 1946 - Красная волна - Сталин атак впервые - Альтернативная история
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Monday, September 26, 2011

Fall in Connecticut


Fall was coming early in Connecticut. The temperature dropped over night into the 40s and it was only September 6th. The leaves were starting to feel the brush of autumn colors and the angle of the sun made the shadows longer earlier. He liked the fall and his 3 years in the Pacific made him miss it even more. He wondered how Fall looked in the Mediterranean?

He had done his time but civilian life just wasn’t working out for him. His two semesters at the University of Connecticut had been a welcome distraction but not inspiring. He was having trouble sleeping and the dreams about Tarawa made him dread the night. He fully intended to go to school and get a degree but with the Reds taking over Europe it just didn’t seem right for him to sit on his hands and let it happen.

Yeah all the arguments about letting others do their part kept rattling in his brain but he was good at being a soldier. He liked the simplicity of military life. You knew what to expect and if you kept your nose clean and did your job you got rewarded. Three square meals a day and everything else was taken care of. No insurance or mortgage problems. You met girls and then you shipped out with no attachments.

College girls were always looking to get married. They wanted to tie you down. The kind of girls that hung out in the bars near the base weren’t like that. They lived like you did. One day at a time. No plans for tomorrow just do your job and have some fun while you can. The rest will fall into place. He hated to plan ahead. I guess that’s why he was still a Corporal when he got out despite a fist full of medals and commendations.

Luckily he didn’t get the Medal of Honor. Those smucks had to put on a show and lived in a fish bowl every time they hit the states.  Everyone watched their every move. Not many of them made very good civilians. The Silver Star was just fine. Prestigious enough to get you a good job and a drink or two but not overwhelming like the Medal of Honor.

I wonder if you can turn it down. Well hopefully he won’t ever have to worry about that. He was going to join up again. Not only for his country and all that patriotic stuff but for himself. He loved being in combat. The rush some called it. Something to do with adrenaline he read somewhere. He didn’t care what it was he just knew he needed it. He craved it and nothing like fighting for your life and hunting other human beings provided it. He was a natural born killer he guessed. He had been thinking about the Foreign Legion when the Reds attacked. So now he had an excuse to do what he loved.

He like using a knife in close. I guess it was very lucky that there was another war to fight otherwise he might have done something stupid in some bar fight or something. Better to fight for your country and get medals than to kill some drunk in a bar.

What a thing to be good at. Killing another man. Maybe he should have gone into the boxing game. It was similar to combat. Oh well too late now. He’d go see the recruiter tomorrow. He was actually looking forward to going to sleep tonight. Maybe the demon’s that plagued his dreams would be slain by his decision to join up again.

Then again maybe he would just create some more.

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