The Bullet of 1940

Rat-a-tat-tat went the g¬uns 24/7 and the raining of bombs never ends like a thunderstorm with no end. This all happens when you are in the field fighting for America in the wet country of Japan.

It was November 18th 1940; I was 22 years old and always wanted to fight. Now I’m here and as scared as a fish being chased by a shark. One of the worst things and the last thing that happened was the bullets flying threw the window and James and me sprinted out of the camp and headed for our jeep. I drove James shot the turret. I shouted over the screaming of machine guns, “ready?” my heart was beating so fast and I was so scared I was thinking its over there’s too many of them.

“GO, GO, GO!” James shouted back I put the petal to the metal and drove as fast as I could. With the turret shooting I felt a little bit safer until we got in to the open. I heard a scream behind me and when I looked back I saw James on the ground. I did half a doughnut turn and drove right up next to him and asked, “James, can you hear me?” He said nothing. All I saw was a river of red blood running down the side of his face.

I knew he was dead. All of a sudden I felt the worst pain in my life going right threw my leg. As I limped into my jeep I pressed on the gas and went to the hospital hoping I would make it in time. * * * * * * * The war was over it was 1983. I was living on a ranch in Iowa with a cow, and 3 chickens.

As I limped threw the moist grass with a pain in my leg from the bullet in 1940 I walked to the barn to get some milk from my cow, Betsy. As I walked into the barn I heard a loud crack and jumped to the ground, still scared of loud noises from the war. It ends up it was farmer Jim chopping down a tree. As I get up I felt the pain hurt more than it ever has. I lie back down and don’t get up again.