Shaking, stuttering, short memory, nightmares; All signs of shell shock, all signs of what Charlie was having. He had heard his fellow soldiers talk about it, he had seen it with his friend John. John had started shaking and stuttering one day and then the Colonel sent him home, saying that “War was no place for a man who can’t think”. Yes, Charlie longed for home, but he didn’t want to leave behind this battle- he had been there since the beginning, even before his fellow countrymen joined.

His steps seemed to intensify as he approached the medical tent. He wasn’t sure what he needed to bring- He had never been here before. His hands messed with his small ID card, it stated his name, nationality, his parent’s name, his weight, and his height. He figured it was important.

“H-Hello?” He spoke, opening the flap. He was greated with soldiers on tables, some crying for their mother, some just laying there. “If you can walk go to the medical tent behind.” A doctor said dismissively as he sewed up a soldier’s leg. Charlie hurried by after seeing that.

“Hello?…I-I need a…” He trailed off when a person headed his way. God, you were so beautiful.