Archive for the ‘Hero’ Category


Friday Flash Fiction: The Captain

March 21, 2008

Sorry I missed the last week or two.  Work is coming up on our M2 Milestone and I’ve been dang busy.

I wrote this piece for my brother.  He had this cool idea for how he’d like an opening scene of a movie for his favorite…well I don’t want to spoil it.  It reads a bit better if you don’t know who it is about at the beginning.

Rodriguez was prayin’. The other three soldiers thought about it too, they were dead and they knew it.

They could hear German voices over the rain of death, the Nazis were close, and it was only a matter of moments now. All the rest of the platoon had to be dead.

“Dammit Rodriguez, shut the hell up, they’re gonna hear you!” Samuels growled in the direction of Rodriguez who paid him no heed and rocked back and forth slowly in time with his rosary.

Miller was gripping his rifle and stuttering gibberish. He was trying to push himself deeper into the mud walls of the bomb crater.

Bullets whistled and grenades fell nearby, spitting dirt over the four of them huddled in the bottom of the small hole, a refuge from the slaughter. Samuels glanced over at Baker and their eyes locked, the question was there for them to see in the each other, Is this the way it ends?

There seemed so much more left to life than this.

The Nazi voices above them changed. They became alarmed. Shouts became screams.

“Der Kapitan! Der Kapit….”

The mayhem of bullets lessened incrementally, one by one, until there was just one gun lonely firing.

Rat-tat-tat [Only after each “tat” there was a “ting”] Rat-tat-ting!-tat-ting!-tat-ting!-tat-ting!-tat-ting!

Like the bullets were bouncing off something.

The GIs heard the click-click of an empty magazine followed by hysterical shouts of “NEIN! NEIN!” Amidst his shouts they heard a sound that was out of place, like a strong wind through the trees. “SWOOOOSH”

Then a moist sounding crunch followed by silence.

Rodriguez stopped his swaying and praying.

The men in the foxhole didn’t know what to think. Why was it quiet? They could hear their own feet shift in the dirt. Miller’s gibberish could be heard clearly now too, “nojesus, nojesus, nojesus, nojesus, nojesus.” He’d been prayin’ after all. Samuels shook him until he finally shut up.

Revalinski poked his head over the dirt edge. The field was empty of movement.

They crawled out and started wandering around the battlefield. All the Nazi’s were dead. Beaten to death, shot to death, and one with his head almost cut clean off.

How’d this happened? Who’d dunit? They all thought

Wandering dumbstruck through the smoke and desolation and blood and mud until they came upon Williams. He was sitting on what was left of a tree, toppled from the battle.

“I saw him.”

Revalinski spat then spoke for the four of them, “whodja see?”

“I’m not crazy you know…look around you…” They noticed his shaking then.

“Quien?” said Rodriguez he was still freaked out and fell back into Spanish.

“You see what he did right?”

“Yeah, ain’t crazy Williams, who dunnit?” Miller had regained his composure.

“The Captain.”

The four from the foxhole looked at each other, Samuels almost laughed, but he looked around him at the death and stayed silent.

The Captain. THE Captian? He must really hate Nazis.

“You mean…?” asked Revalinski.

“Yeah, that’s who I saw. He was one mean lookin sonuvabitch too! Big and fast and angry as hell!”

Williams stood up then and walked towards them, maybe he was crazy, he was still shaking as he went on, “…an’ he’s got this shield that he used to block and hit and throw. He kil’t that one over there with it.” Pointing to the Nazi almost decapitated.

“He went through them like they were wheat. It was easy for him.”

Now with the bullets no longer flying the surviving soldiers looked around at the Germans on the ground with a weird sense of pity. They never stood a chance. Not against him.