King, Country, and Beauty

8

Later that day Peter and Akarra had been sitting on the couch. "So Peter," Akarra said simultaneously. "Back on Earth on the island I noticed you had been looking at one of my bras." Peter had then felt a rapid amount of embarrassment. "It's fine Peter," Akarra said seeing Peter embarrassed like he was. This made Peter feel much more relieved. "I'd be curious as well if I were in your position then," she added on. Peter then began to light a cigarette.

"Why do you smoke those?" Akarra asked. "Well to clear my mind." Peter responded. "You may find us humans a threat because of what it is we carry. That's not even half as bad. What is bad is what we're capable of doing to each other." Peter continued to smoke as he remembered the moments from his position. "Do you think you could tell me about any of those moments so I could understand it better?" Akarra asked. "Well, I don't think so," Peter said. "Though there is one I think I may be able to tell."

May 13th, 1941. Peter and the others had been talking with the boys about what they'll do after the war. "Well I for one," Bridger went on about, "can't wait to get home. I'm just going to call it a night no matter what time it is." The boys would be laughing. "When I get home," Pritchard said, "If folks start asking me about the war, I'm just going to make stuff up and whip up a good meal." The boys would continue chuckling and talking. "Say, what about you Thomas?" Gregors began at Peter. "Well," Peter said, "not much. Just hope for a warm welcoming back, a medal on my chest, and I wish, my father."

Peter's father had recently died of a heart disease when Peter left for the war. His mother and sister were at the hospital beside him, but Peter wasn't. His father died heartbroken from his own son not being there for them. Peter wishes for more than anything just to go back in time and be there for him.

All of the sudden sirens could be heard all throughout the base. It was an air raid. Luftwaffe bombers began releasing bombs throughout the base. Flak guns fired and had been blown up constantly. Peter didn't know where to go. The whole thing had started too fast for barely anyone to do anything about it.

As if it couldn't get any worse, German fighters from the bomber's escort had started getting close and mowing down the pilots on the ground. One of which was heading for Peter. Peter ran faster than he ever did in his life as a German 109 fired at him. When he turned around he could see the cold look in the pilot's eye which was hard to see through the pilot's goggles and mask. Peter eventually found cover and waited there until the whole raid subsided.

Some time had passed as the raid stopped and German bombers headed back for their base. Meanwhile the entire airfield had been left in rubble and ashes. A scream had caught Peter's ears as he followed it. A man had his arm trapped under some rubble and had been screaming for help. "Hang tight," Peter said. "I'm gonna get you out of here." Peter began to lift the rubble. At first he had no luck. He then began to push harder and managed to get the man's arm free. Peter had escorted the man to the medical tent which had not been harmed. The doctor examined the wound and told the man that his arm was infected, and that he would have to amputate it. On the brightside the doctor informed the man he might get a purple heart for this. "What you did was real brave of you lad." The medic said to Peter. "You're a bona-fide hero lad. You might have a bronze star in your future."

Peter had finished his story. "I'm sorry for what happened to your father." Akarra said to Peter. "What you did was real brave of you. I'm sure he would be proud of you."

"It was a dark time for all of us," Peter said as he exhaled from his cigarette. "At least it led me to you." Akarra was flattered by this. And so the day went by.