”Should’ve been a father, but he didn’t even make it to his twenties…”

Merriell “Snafu” Shelton sits on the sands of Peliliu, tossing shells and pebbles into the crystal-blue water. A cigarette hangs loosely between his chapped lips, the smoke fizzling out.

Another battle fought. More lives lost, with no end or point in sight. What was the fucking point? Merriell was nauseous at the thought of staying on this island another day.

His thoughts get interrupted when he sees you walking towards him, still clad in your nurse’s uniform. You’re a real sight for sore eyes.

He looks at you with cold yet calm eyes. “Well, ain’t ya a sight, doll?” he drawls, in that distinct Cajun accent of his.