Sunday, September 7, 2014
Zippo
Open, closed, open, closed. The lighter's brass shone in the early morning sunlight as the others all stared, as if captivated by the motions. Lew smiled, but it was a sad, halfhearted smile. At 17, he was the youngest of his group, and was known to constantly be in the midst of a funny story or joke. Today there was only silence. "Five minutes!" came the call from the front. Murmurs rippled back through the rest of the crew. Lew pulled open the lighter one more time and retrieved a box of cigarettes from one of his side pockets, opening the pack and carefully choosing one. As he lit the cigarette, he glanced around at the rest of his crew. He noticed some were terrified, some were excited, and some were afraid of what they felt. "It sure is interesting," Lew thought, "How in some men, the most sickening emotion is the feeling of elation that other men get from killing." Lew took a heavy pull from the cigarette, and allowed the feeling of calm wash over him. "Three minutes out!" He readied his assault rifle, put his carton of cigarettes back into the depths of his pockets, and slung his pack over his shoulder. As a force of habit, Lew began toying with the lighter again. The brass finish had begun to wear after two years of use. The lighter, which once caught the sun and reflected brilliantly, now gave off a duller, more realistic light. "Landing in ten seconds!" Lew and the rest of the group lined up, eager to fight for their country. Lew closed the lighter, and threw his cigarette into the murky waters of the English Channel. He looked down and realized his hands were shaking, then realized that he wasn't nervous for what was about to happen. He was afraid of living with himself afterwords. Then with a loud cranking noise, the doors opened. Lewis Don looked out at the field of Germans and unleashed a roar so loud and so fierce that his comrades looked at him in wonder. He fought through the water, up into the sand, and onto the hill. He fought with a strength that his friends never knew he had. Lewis fought with such fierceness and tenacity because he finally understood that no side was any better than the other, and that his country did not care one bit if he died on that hill or if he lived. All they cared about was results. So he gave them the results, and then Lewis, aged 17, killed himself on that hill. His name lives on, however, among millions of others, in the records of World War Two. Was he correct?
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I really like this Schuyler!! I thought it was cool how you added the picture with Lewis Don's named listed, as it made the story feel very real. It felt genuine, as it didn't really sugarcoat anything and left the reader with a frank ending. I guess the epiphany would be when Lewis kills himself after his realization that it may not matter if he lived or died, and when you ask if he was right in doing so.
ReplyDeleteSchuyler, I already wrote a comment for this, but it didn't go through, so here is my second attempt: This was a fantastic, thought-provoking story. You captured the image and mood of World War II brilliantly. I am very sympathetic to all those men and women, young and old, who had to fight in that horrific war. I wish that I could understand the horror they had to live through each and every day. Truthfully, I think Lew was one of the smart ones: he knew he couldn't live with his actions or himself after the fact. I feel worse for those who DID have to deal with the guilt of killing thousands of men who had a life, friends, and family outside of the battlefield. The epiphany was when Lew realized that he could not live with himself after the war: "He looked down and realized his hands were shaking, then realized that he wasn't nervous for what was about to happen. He was afraid of living with himself afterwords." This stanza is a very powerful realization that really struck me. Very well done, Schuyler. You have ability far beyond your years.
ReplyDeleteWow, this is awesome. I think it is really difficult for someone like me to really understand the horror of war, but this has been as vivid as it has ever been. Whether it was intentional or not, I thought that the zippo being a metaphor for Lew was also a great little inclusion in the middle of that. It gave me the sense that in the beginning he was excited to serve, but as war carried on, he slowly began to dread and hate what he was doing more and more. The epiphany is was when reached the top of that hill and knew that he could not continue living knowing what he had done that day. Great job Schuyler.
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