Memories of a War

It was July 20, 1914. I had enlisted myself in the French army. In this time of fear and panic between Europe I only wanted to serve my country rather than to die as a coward at home with my dad. I wanted to be a national hero. I always despised him because he killed my mother when I was 10 years old. I arrived home, he was mad at me. I was about to go to my bedroom when he got me by my knees, making me fell hard on the floor. He dragged me to the basement. My heart was bumping faster and I was sweating, a lot. He pushed me to the floor and took his belt and started whipping me. 
“Yannick you stupid child!” he exclaimed, “How can you be such an idiot?!” then he whipped me again, “The army is not for skinny 20-year-old children like you!”
I did not listen to his words; I was not a coward like him. He locked me on the basement and did not let me out.
It was July 28, 1914. The World War had started. I escaped the basement by a crack in the back door. I was dashing towards the army soldiers when I heard my father yelling at me.
  “Yannick you morron! You are as weak as a chicken, you won’t be able to handle a rifle, and you can’t even save yourself from me! Imagine saving your country from Germany, good luck out there you jerk!”
  I was crying really hard at that point, not of sadness, but of anger. His words disappeared in the mist while I arrived at the army. The first day was harsh. I could not handle the training neither bear the food. My back still ached because of my father’s whips. I was weaker as I had never been. As a punishment for not finishing the training courses they left me to sleep in the camp prison where my hands were tied to iron bars and my neck to a wooden bar. There I found my only friend, Antoine. He was stronger than me but not as strong as the other soldiers. He was there because he tried to skip the training, but he was smart, the best tactician in the army.
The sunlight shined in my eyes as the sun came out. Sergeant Massefeire had woken both of us to export us to a battlefield at Marseille. I would fight for the first time ever in my life. When I picked up my backpack and gear I felt like if I was going to collapse. When they handed me the rifle I almost shot sergeant Massefeire. My father was right; I was too weak to handle a rifle. We were going to the battlefield; I was in the middle of everybody and Antoine was right at the front. When we started the fight I did not move. I stayed in cover and did not fire a single shot. I felt a coward, just like my dad. I had joined this army to be a hero. At this point I was mad at everything so I did not think twice when I stood up. I was even crying because of that, war messes with humans.
“I am going to fight now! For my country, for France!” I exclaimed as I stood up and shot. What a terrible idea.
I received a shot, right at my left shin. I felt a failed rifleman, just like my father said I would be. Some strong men took me to a hospital near town and the scenes I saw there were unforgettable. Men without their arms, without their feet, with no hands, without an eye, I saw what war was like. They left me at a bloody table.
“We will need to amputate from the shin down”, said the medic. I was yelling and yelling for mercy and just when he was about to cut my leg off when Antoine appeared and helped make a surgery on me. He made me sniff alcohol and then I passed out. I woke up in a comfy bed. My shin was just fine, I then realized that I wasn’t a rifleman, I was here to save them. When I stood up Antoine walked in.
“Hey Yannick what’s up?” Antoine said, “If I was you I would not get up yet, your shin is still really fragile.”
“I will just talk to sergeant Massefeire,” I responded, “I want to convince him of something.”
I stood up and walked in the fields to try to find him. I asked some guards where he was and they said that he was in the battlefield. So I decided to wait until dawn for his return. It was midnight when the army arrived; there was no sight of sergeant Massefeire. Later on I received the news that he was killed in the battlefield. Officer JePardeno occupied his spot and he was a really strict person. I tried to convince him that I wanted to help in the field hospital but he said that he needed men in the field, even though they are weak men. I was mad at that point in time.
It was August 30, 1914. Antoine and I were in the same battlefront, led by sergeant JePardeno. I had grown some muscles and I could already handle a rifle and the gear, I just could not handle the war anymore. As we arrived at the battlefield the German army was already there and gave us a “Welcome” with some bombs. Half of the army was already dead and the war had not even started. As we rushed to the trenches the Germans killed more and more riflemen, it seemed like we lost our whole army in a few minutes. In a trench there was Antoine, three other men and I. Two of the other men died with an explosive so I rushed with Antoine to another trench. At the other cover Antoine advanced and I stayed there, as a coward, a disappointment to the army. I wanted to be a hero, that is why I was here so I stood up and shot, the worst idea ever because the only man I saw falling dead was Antoine. I had killed him. I rushed towards his dead body to try to help him but it was useless.
“ANTOINE, ANTOINE!” I yelled and cried, “I am sorry, do not leave me!”
  I was here in vain, I couldn’t kill anyone and the only person I could kill was my best friend. I just wanted a German to shoot me dead right then.
As we had lost the war and failed to accomplish the mission we went back to the camp. I arrived there as a beaten man, as a fool, as the worst person in the entire world. I passed days, thinking and reflecting in my bed of what I had done. I did not sleep, neither drink, neither eat, I was a jerk, just as my dad said I am. My colleagues locked me on the camp prison and did not take me out of there. They put me in the most uncomfortable position and left me there, for 5 days.
My friends took me out of the slave quarter and gave me some food. I was about to eat it when I noticed it was a tramp, the food was rotten. As the sunlight of the 6th day shone, I had an idea, to finish this all. I got a paper, ink, and a gun. I would write my last thoughts and then dismiss myself out of this world.
“I, Yannick, the weakest rifleman in the army, dismiss myself from my position. Mom, I miss you I expect to see you soon. Dad, you were the worst dad ever but were always right, I hope you are still alive. I do not know what was in my mind when I enlisted myself in the army; I just wanted to be a hero. Antoine, you were my friend for the most complicated situation of my life. I am sorry that all needed to end like this; I hope that I can see you again. For all the army I wish good luck for you, save lives, save France. I write my last words as I say: it was an honor to serve France.”
These words echoed in my head as I pulled the trigger. Then I had the confirmation of how a bad rifleman I was, I had missed the bullet, I could not even kill myself. I just decided to escape the army and say that I was dead, it would be way easier. That is what I did; I left the letter at my tent and escaped the camp in a pile of dead bodies which was leading towards France.