Mark’s death shocked us all. He had always been a light in the company, a light in our lives. The world seemed so dark sometimes. There was nothing but death around us. Sometimes I wonder how I ever made it through that. I recall the December cold kissing my face the day I lost hope. That day I was walking, my feet crunching in the snow, through the town, we had been evacuating people but were on break.

I wandered through the town, as I often did when I was thinking. And then I saw it, a man on his knees holding a woman’s hands in his. He pressed a small box into them. She opened it, gasped hauled him too his feet and kissed him. I never found out who that man was. But I knew who that woman was. I’d dreamed about her for months her face was my drive, it kept me alive through all those horrors. Her necklace was around my neck.

I walked back to camp, and entered my tent; I fell on my sleep pad and sobbed. I hadn’t cried in a while, I had just blocked out the world. But now, now was different. She was gone, out of my reach. And soon, I was going to be gone, there was no way I would make it through this war now.

In honor of mark, we buried a plank of wood, as no one had been able to recover his body. We all signed our names, and jotted a little note saying how we would miss him. Another boy we had known from high school, a tall muscular boy with a long ponytail named matt was mark’s replacement.

The town was in ruins, we had evacuated all of the people, and at the end of the month of December we were to go on the offensive. The town of Fort Pierre was across the river from Pierre. Boats were stationed at the river, but before we crossed the river we had to retake the rest of Pierre. The capitol was the only major structure they held, if we drove them out of that, then we could get across the river and outflank them.

The capitol was the standard design, a dome with offices in two wings on either side. We would attack from the basement, coming out of a tunnel that came from the middle school across the road. I lead our little group into the middle school and down into the basement. We kicked a door in and charged down the tunnel. Before we knew it we were out of the dank musty tunnel and into the building. Our objective was to secure a door so others could reinforce us. The minute we stepped into the building things went to hell.

First we were blindsided by a company of red-eyes as we were sneaking upstairs, we beat them back but decided for our purposes that we had better get the hell out of dodge and accomplish our objectives. Personal vendettas came later. Besides there would be plenty to kill later.

We scrambled up to the fortifications around the main door, killed the red-eyes in them from behind, and gave the signal to waiting soldiers outside. The fight we then experienced was gritty. I don’t know where the grit came from. But the marble was almost black with it. That’s what I remember most about that fight, was how gritty it was. I also remember putting my arm on something to steady my aim as we were assaulted from the back, and t sticking as I pulled it away. It was the severed head of a red-eye. I turned away and retched.

Finished coughing up lunch again and turned back to the fight. The grit was in my eyes and in my throat making me cough. But we fought on. Matt was a tornado, he was everywhere at once, firing his Squad Automatic Weapon churning out rounds. Soldiers poured in to relieve us. We sat in our fortifications breathing hard. Sand bags surrounded us. I looked into a boy called Evan’s eyes. He looked as if he were sleeping. But I saw the blood running in a thin line from his lip, and the same blood running from a hole in his chest. His best friend was shaking him, but I couldn’t hear anything. A grenade exploded next to me. Two feet of sandbags separated me from it. The sound had deafened me temporarily.

My hands shot to my ears, and in spite of all the horrors I had seen, clutching my hands to my head and thinking I would never hear again, I still panicked. I screamed and screamed until Jon found me and hit me hard in the head. I looked up and saw him mouth something. Matt came running as Jon took his place, firing round after round over the bags. Matt knelt beside me, and grabbed my hand. He held in his and mouthed. It’s gonna be okay. Then I saw that familiar gleam in his eyes. I tried to pull him down, but he turned and looked up, half smiled then his head was pierced with an armor piercing sniper round. Blood spurted from the exit wound. His dead body fell on top of me, still holding my hand.

I knew enough, even in my panic with a body lying on top of me to scream Sniper! I yelled it and strange as it seemed I heard myself a little bit. I pushed matt off of me, and grabbed his gun. My uniform was soaked in blood, black and red, and covered in grit.

I grabbed his SAW and fired blindly at the spot where matt had been looking earlier. When he was alive. Rounds peppered the sniper, and he fell from his perch and hit the ground with a crunch.

I jumped out of the bunker and ran towards the left wing. I gunned down the surprised red-eyes hunkering there, and soldiers followed. That action broke the back to the occupying forces, we stormed the capitol. Later that day we outflanked their retreating forces crushing the bulk of their force. That night I met with the commanding general. He took me aside and told me how brave I was. I told him “I’m not the brave one. The brave ones are those who don’t get the medals themselves. Their families do.” Then I took his medal and walked away.

I washed my uniform and tried to sleep, but all I could think of was Sydney, her hair the way she walked, everything about her. I took a walk to clear my senses. The January cold numbed the pain. Six men out of the ten in our squad had died that day. Jon, Brian, and I were the only originals left. Mark had been close to me, all of them had been my friend. The words of a song played in my mind. Never too late. Then the loudspeakers in camp went off. I heard the alarms, and ran to get my uniform. A civilian camp had been attacked.

I grabbed my soaking wet uniform and threw it on. I froze all the way to the camp. We assaulted it and retook it. Brian was shot in the chest, and Jon took one in the foot. The medics said Brian would make it. But I one the other had, I do believe this will be my last entry. As I write this, I am lying under a large piece of stone, dying. It fell on me, not killing me but this cold will. I am soaking wet, and it is below freezing. Sydney was in the camp we liberated. I hope she finds me, god it’s cold, god, give her a good life, so cold…….

Thomas was discovered dead the next morning by his best friend. The war ended three days later. Jon and jade married and are happy in the rebuilt town today. Brian and Jon made full recoveries. There were thirty high school age boys in Scooter Company. Two of them lived through the battle. As for Sydney, she declined to be interviewed for this book….. But the frozen boy was buried a hero, his military funeral attended by the president. He received the Congressional Medal of Honor on September 12, 2007. we wrote the last entry as he lay dying.