One shots

WW2

the power drink Poetry in this I made myself 

My name is jack born I am nothing special just a novel guy with a Gunn And in this war that is not much. my mom was born poor daddy left when's I was two. apparently, he didn't want a basted son like me. You see I am special and I don't mean the kind your mother tells you when your five. The kind which means you got something wrong with you. The kind which  I got 

When's I turned  16 I finished school and helping my mother by working in a pub the old rifle it was called. the owner fought in the first world war and he was one tough old Git but he was a good man. A good but foolish man hell when I first met him was like this. I just finished school five minutes ago I am walking home down the back alleys going past a backside of a pub when I saw two big men following an old man with an old rife using it as a walking stick. One of the men yells out to the man. 

" hey you old timer" he try's the old man keep smiling walking  away not giving him one look "hey you old timer  stop " he keep on walking one of the men run up in front of him and said "I said stop old man and that means stop got it " he says in a slow coocky voice the old men just raises an eyebrow and says " now son I have places to Be And things to do And you are wasting time I don't have so why don't you just move ?" He says in a smooth voice that was god dame slick I was amazed by the pair on this old man standing up to two thugs and not be sacred in the slightest. He was either one of two things brave or stupid and right now I can't tell which one.

"Listen, gramps, you are behind on your protection money and my boss wants it By the end of today or else we'll you know what I'll happen, " he says spitting venom out with ever would getting closer to the old mans face. His buddy stepping closer behind the old man's back.

I stept near the sense thinking I will have to intervene when the sightlent partner speaks out and says in the man's right eye loudly "gramps just cough  up  the cash it would be a real shame if something was to happen to the old rife "

Then in a bilk of an eye, the man pulls a bayonet out of where who know and puts it right on the mans face cutting off bits of hair on his face yelling DO YOU WANT TO FEEL THIS STEEL. He yells. Drawing some blood on the sharp knife. As this happens the overman is pulling out a pair of knuckledusters and putting them on before he can throw a swing I run right into his side and into a wall head first. ''Fighting a man from behind and I thought you could sink no lower'' I say while pulling off his knuckledusters And putting them on myself. I turn to see the old man looking my way. And he says ''next time you run into a man stick your shoulder out more it will hurt him more might break something too''. He says. 

Nodding my head I walk up to him and the man he has his bayonet on and says "buddy go take your friend and get that beard of yours cut now. Unless you want some of what he got..?"

The old man takes off his bayonet off him and steps back he steps forward to grasp his friend and looks at both of us he points at me  "your on my list boy and I saw your face good luck"

"Well that send that young little prat packing but now I must ask" and he raised his bayonet at me "who in the bloody hell are you" 

"My name is jack. Jack born" I introduce my self I then erase my right hand and face my open Pam towards him and say " and you are unless you like the title of old ma-" I get enraptured by the man "troublesome youth my name is Michal pitch" I then tap the bayonet near my neck.

he pulls the bayonet away from my neck then sticks it back up his sleeve I raise an eyebrow at this. '' I see you looking at my ace in the hole and before you think to ask why I leave it there would you think to look there?'' he says shutting me up before I can ask my question. that was the day I meet Michal pitch to those that work for him call him the major. he offered me a job after we got back to the pub and in his eyes, I saw something I haven't seen before.

proud... someone was proud of me.

as the time went by a new war started and the night it started I see something I wiss I have never seen, in the middle of the room where the tables where there was an old coil heater and an bouth them was 3  dog tags and all of them had blood dried blood on them with a bunch of old handguns all tied in the metal chain he was sat down on a wooding chair with a bottle of old whiskey his left hand  and in his right hand was a piece of paper and he started to read them off the paper. 

the touch we will burn a new.

it will never die

the lesson you taught us will never die

the flower who you stand red we will whare to honer are dead.

we will light the way to victory the path you pathed  

the road on which you lay.

he  takes a swig of whiskey state from the bottle he then puts the bottle down on the table and reaches out to the dog tags and holds them he then says to himself as if talking to his failing comrades '' fellas I think you would like this me hitting the sauce hard you all ways said it brings out my good side Martino  you are a regularly badass . I still remember you, Davey, saying what good side but you were our sharp shot you know your guns, not people list that's what the everyone who didn't know you said. you to Markey remember when back, when you saved my useless ass we just got started in, is the war I stuck my head out to see what we were facing a few stray rounds hitting my head making me fail I would fell right on the sharp and new bayonets and you pull me back up and all you could say is ''hey Michail we get the point but lets not go that far''. yet you are the dame best bombs expert if it went boom it had you all over it. you swore one day you go out with a boom.

the mayor sis back down finally noticing a shadow behind him he didn't say anything never did I we just stood there. tell he takes a berth and he pulls out a char out to his right still looking at the old fireplace '' you know it is rude to stare right jacky boy'' I give a chuckle and say'' didn't I say I hated that name ?'' 

'' you did but you know as a  ''old man'' I keep forgetting things from time to time'' 

for those that are confuesd old man is the nickname I call him when we are alone and he calls me jacky boy for spite. god, I hate that name.

'' I guess you have seen the news '' 

'' kind of hard not to with everyone talking about it. shore they whisper it thinking an old fool will nor hear when will they learn'' 

'' for your sack, you better pray not'' I say looking at the fire.

''and why pray to tell would I do that?'' he says turning his head to look at me  

'' because they are all easier to play like a Fidell when they are dumb'' I say with a smirk getting a laugh out of the major.

'' You want to open tonight or not'' 

'' no one wants to get mary tonight jack but I will do something else. time for the range''

the range is a thing we do here in the old rifle once a month if we got enough money we get all the old boxes out and shoot them to pechs. out the back side of the pub, we all get 5 shots forever shot we miss we get one pound taken from our wages.

'' you know my mom hates the range right '' I say with a smirk on my face.

'' I know but hey what she doesn't know can't hurt her or me '' he says rubbing the side of his face from where my mom did hit him when he tould her of the range in the first place. 

five minutes later we are outside with all the boxes stacked high in a primed. this was the day before I joined the army and this was my way of saying goodbye