fact or fiction

Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about the military and the physical, logistical, emotional and moral obstacles involved.

Reaching for the Stars
I, Reggie Fishbourne, had reached for the stars and fallen short. Like a boy, climbing his roof, only to topple off the edge and land in the bush below. I would be lucky to walk away from my current predicament with only a few bruises and thorns stuck in my side.
By Thomas5 years ago in Serve
The Balance Demanded
The wind cried as it slithered across the battlefield carrying with it the stench of rotting bodies and the promise of more bloodshed. The cries of the wounded and dying followed the wind up the massive hill to the encampment of the victors of that day’s battle. Most of the tents were dark, the soldiers in them either asleep or dying on the muddy field beneath the safety of their bedrolls. Three tents at the center of the camp blazed with firelight and the bustling of bodies between two of them identified them as hospital tents. The third, slightly larger and filled with dire conversation held five people around a table covered in maps and battle plans. A sixth person, cloaked in the enemy’s colors and tied to a chair in a far corner, tried to remember every detail spoken in her presence.
By E.M. Vis5 years ago in Serve
The Desert Raid
A short story based on a dream I had Maxwell turned his head to look at everyone in the hanger. 150, 200 people, he reckoned. He still couldn’t believe he formed a team this big to go after his goal, a goal that became shared, a goal that was about to be achieved… Of that, he had no doubt!
By Gabriel Mohr5 years ago in Serve
In War, Good Graces
Silently, we looked out on the field from the depth of our trench, fellow comrades leaning against the bunker, glazed eyes peering through peepholes in mortar, folds in sandbags, mouths exhaling hot stale breath that misted in our faces in the cold morning air. We were a stack of sardines pressed against the interminable, cemented walls and heavy, sand-filled burlap sacks comprising the barricade, green steel helmets and bayonet-tipped rifles flitting the air. All of us, hundreds were collect, ready in courage, yet unspeakably horrified we might not be coming back.
By James B. William R. Lawrence5 years ago in Serve
Nazi Treasure. Top Story - February 2021.
April 5, 1945 Cpl. Lance Johnson, Pfc. Josh Dickerson, Pvt. Terry Parker and Pvt. Gary Daniels was sitting outside the office of Lt. Gen. Richard Taylor, who is in charge of finding Nazi treasure, that was looted during the German occupation of Western Europe from 1940 to 1945.
By Roy Tsukishima5 years ago in Serve
The Other Side of War
I slid behind one of numerous boulders, clutching the body of my M-16 as bullets bombard my barricade. The Lieutenant crouches a few yards away behind his own rocky fortifications, but we’re all that’s left. I think. I don’t know. It’s hard to know anything when you’re caught in the middle of an ambush.
By Melissa Carey5 years ago in Serve
Look Away
Neck deep in the grave, Sam Watkins paused at the clatter of an approaching supply wagon. Covered with sweat and caked with red Tennessee soil, he had dug without a break for most of the late August morning. He leaned the spade in a corner of the rectangular hole and scratched his dark beard, listening to the sounds of the world above. He wanted a chew from his knapsack, but decided he couldn't afford the moisture it took to spit.
By Steven Thomas Howell5 years ago in Serve
My Rude Awakening
I was not always a good kid. In fact, I was very bad when I was young. I started my military service at the age of sixteen. Yes, most kids who served in the Army were eighteen, but there were a lot of kids who were sixteen and seventeen that served to. At one time the courts could order you to serve in the military in exchange for prison time. When that happened, your age did not count. They did what they wanted with you. After all, you were a prisoner. That’s how I got into the military; I messed up and got caught.
By Rocky Emily5 years ago in Serve
Finding yourself in Alaska...
“Why is it that we have to have deep conversations without the comfort of being somewhere where I can smoke?” Logan grumbled as he fiddled with a small can of mints and popped one in his mouth before he began.
By Rose Loren Geer-Robbins5 years ago in Serve
War and Roses
The package arrived on a Tuesday. Knowing that I preferred watching the real world over daytime television, one of the nurse’s aides had been kind enough to push my wheelchair as close as he could to the broad front window. I read his name tag carefully — Jackson, it read — and thanked him, but we both knew that by dinner I would forget it. It was a dance we did every day, my failing mind and I.
By Virginia Kruta5 years ago in Serve
Hometown Hero
He walked into the clinic for his volunteer shift. He was the jack of all trades when he did the volunteer work for the clinic. It seemed like they never had enough hands to go around. He’d empty the trash, restock supplies for the nurses, and occasionally do his favorite part of the gig and that was talking up the patients. He also got to learn how to heal. Granted he didn’t have the medical training so he could volunteer to treat patients, but he could volunteer and learn all he could from the doctors and the nurses. He relished the opportunity. He never knew when he decided that he wanted to help people through medicine, but just always knew that is what he was supposed to do.
By Daryl Benson5 years ago in Serve
Final Correspondence
The sound of the doorbell startled my steady hand causing a scribble on the letter ‘a’ I was writing. I let out a sigh, admiring my awkward checkmark looking symbol as I set the pen and black journal down on the table. My $20,000 contest-winning plan will have to wait until later. Rising from my chair and making my way to the front door I squint to see through the dark frosted glass. I could see the figure of a well-postured man, and it looked like he was wearing a uniform. Feeling my heart quicken, my steps increased to match the beat. Could it really be? But he’s home so early.
By Michelle Pattison5 years ago in Serve