Page 61 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

“Lower your voice, Gabe.”

“Why should I?” he shouts loudly. “Why? I might as well die tomorrow. Why can’t I get laid before?”

“Gabe! Shhh.” A pause. “Major Vitry,” he suddenly says, his voice taking a serious note.

I peek around the corner and see Vitry facing two males who attempt to maintain a straight posture but fail as they sway from side to side.

“Major,” Gabe slurps the word.

“Go to bed,” Vitry says with a sigh.

“Why should I?” Gabe counters.

“Because I said so, and I outrank you, Soldier.”

“Gabe, please. You’ll get in trouble,” the other male says, pulling on Gabe’s sleeve.

“I don’t care. Even better. I’mdonewith this! I’m never going up again. I’m too fucking young to die.”

Vitry takes a step toward him.

“You’re too young to die?” he asks, his voice low and tense. “And what makesyoumore special than the eighteen-year-old we lost today? What makesyoumore special than any of the other men in here?”

“I didn’t sign up for this. I…” he mumbles.

“Let me guess. You signed up for the rewards with none of the sacrifices, am I right?”

Gabe’s mouth opens and closes before he eventually shakes his head.

“You wanted to be a hero, but you’re not willing to do the heroic thing.” Vitry lets out a dry laugh.

“Dying isn’t heroic,” Gabe whispers.

“Isn’t it? Why do you think there are thousands of soldiers dying every day then? Why so many other thousands risk death every day?”

Gabe doesn’t reply, so Vitry continues.

“They risk it all because they know it makes a difference. Their sacrificesaveslives. Maybe you didn’t sign up for this, but do you think those poor people signed up to be butchered by the Germans, too? Do you think they signed up to have their land stolen and their people subjugated by fucking Nazis?”

“But I want to live, too,” Gabe whispers.

“Then live.” Vitry shrugs. “Go ahead. Run out of here. Go and live your worthless little life like a coward. It’s no skin off my back. “

He takes a step back and waits.

Neither male moves. They stare guiltily at Vitry.

“Well? What’s it going to be?”

Gabe swallows.

“I don’t want the Nazis to win,” he mutters in a low, barely audible voice. “I fucking hate Nazis.”

“Me too,” the other male whispers.

“Then go back to your barracks, get some sleep, and on your next mission, rememberwhyyou’re flying.”

He turns and walks away.

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