Letters to the Field- Correspondence 5/17
Where the hell’s my coffee?
Short, simple, and full of emotion. Hiruma sealed the letter, addressed it, and put himself back into his cot, staring at Mamori’s letter, upset. He felt betrayed, for lack of a better description for the emotion. He thought Mamori had known him better and had known to take care of him better than this….
He shut his eyes to hold in the painful tears. Hiruma was not the kind of man who would cry over a girl. No he was not.
After putting the letter in the post himself the next morning, Hiruma went and relayed the news to his men and superior.
“Another squabble in command, huh?” Doburoku sighed, knowing what had really happened. Thankfully the rest of the men were a great deal more ignorant of what the words really meant.
Hiruma wasn’t given the chance to reply because there was an explosion somewhere else, not too far away. Several explosions followed the first and yelling of orders and sirens sounded.
“Fuck!” Hiruma grabbed his gun and stormed outside, into the chaos, and started helping regain order and return fire. Being a Sergeant no longer mattered, what mattered was that someone was in control and giving out orders and all you needed to do this was an authorative voice that was barking out something decently logical. Having both of those things in plenty, Hiruma managed to re-organize the soldiers in his immediate vicinity (despite the rank differences) and start rallying people to his side.
Sena appeared at some point, as if from nowhere, and told Hiruma that most of his command had managed to gather in an area about 50ish yards to their left. Unfortunately there was a lot of enemy shells and a nasty trench between the two parties, how Sena had managed to cross it was beyond Hiruma.
“Send them fucking left and make them meet up with fucking Don.” Hiruma told Sena. “I’m staying here with the fucking invalids.”
“Sir!” Sena ran away again, firing off his gun twice as he went. The kid was good at running it seemed, cutting through the battle, hitting foe as he went. Hiruma said nothing and ducked behind some crates. He looked over the top and saw the enemy tanks.
“Fucking tanks!” Hiruma hissed, clearly not pleased. “Anyone got a fucking grenade?”
“No sir!” One of the other men, a Sergeant Major, responded. Hiruma turned around and looked at the tank again. There was something off….
The tank had been hit with a shell, part of the mechanics was exposed!
“Cover me!” Hiruma snapped as he climbed up on the creates, normally a suicidal move, but he had a plan. He took his gun and aimed it.
Bang!
The bullet flew true, embedding itself in the mechanics of the tank. Unfortunately all that seemed to do was stop the turret from turning. The tank stopped and the hatch opened. Hiruma waited for the man to climb completely out before he shot him, four times, killing him.
Another explosion occurred near Hiruma’s location. There was another tank. Shit.
Acting quickly, Hiruma leapt down and had the men take cover.
“What about the wounded?” One of the soldiers crouched down next to Hiruma asked.
Hiruma swallowed painfully. “They’ll understand.” Hiruma muttered lamely. There was little he could do to protect the wounded without getting them all killed.
Monta, one of the monkey-like green soldiers in Hiruma’s command, had injured his arm in the pervious battle but was still able enough to run over. Hiruma was about to snap at the idiot when he saw that Monta had an armful of grenades.
“Ke ke ke!” Hiruma cackled, new plans spinning in his mind. They still had a chance yet!
“Here.” Monta handed one to Hiruma. It was a long handled grenade, good for throwing. Hiruma took it and looked over at the new tank. The turret was turning there way and was about 4 seconds from firing on their location. Without thinking any more, Hiruma pulled the pin and threw the grenade expertly at the tank. It flew through the air like an axe did and by some miraculous chance, went right down the turret barrel.
Boom!
The enemy never knew what hit ’em. Their deaths were instant.
“Status!” Hiruma cried again after he sent Monta up a tree to get a better view of what was going on.
There were no new injured, but those who had been able enough to walk among the injured had come out. With a tired nod Hiruma faced them.
“We’re holding our position and yielding to no one unless its Major Don, is that clear?” Hiruma ordered them.
“Sir!”
The battle finished that evening. The death count went up and the number of injured also did. It took them several weeks to reorganize the camp, the remaining troupes, and send off the mail.
Once the reorganization was done, Hiruma and his men were sent out on another march. This time they were meeting up with another encampment to request supplies and issue orders. After a week of long marching, they arrived there, only to find a new shipment of mail had come in.
Much to Hiruma’s embarrassment, his mail was delivered to him right in front of his men.
“…You have a girlfriend?” Takekura asked, an amused look on his face.
“Shut it Corporal.” Hiruma hissed back and tucked the letter safely into his jacket. No one mentioned the letter and it was left forgotten until that evening when, in the privacy of his own tent, Hiruma pulled it out and opened it up.
Despite the envelope being perfect and pristine, Mamori’s letter was crinkled and her letters were rushed and blotchy. Her hand hadn’t been steady when she wrote this.
Youichi-
You call that a note!? You didn’t even bother acknowledging me in the slightest! Give me one good reason why I should ever send you coffee again! I sit here all day worrying about you and Sena and working so hard to keep everyone in town’s spirits up and what do you do!? You demand a coffee! I don’t actually have the beans to spare most of the time. Everything’s on rations, especially coffee!
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
She had been worried. Very worried.
Hiruma ran a tired hand through his hair and glanced at the calendar beside him. It’d been just shy of two months since he last heard from her. No wonder she’d been so worried. He shook his head and moved to put the letter away, when he realized that the paper wasn’t going into the envelope smoothly at all. He looked inside the envelope and found something he hadn’t been expecting at all.
Mamori’s lucky bracelet.
It was a simple bit of twine with a four leaf clover the local smith had fastened between two bits of glass. There was another piece of paper, this one a scrap, in the bottom of the envelope. He took it out and read it.
return it
Nodding slowly, Hiruma took the bootlace off from around his neck and tied the bracelet to it, then put it back on.
Now that telling Mamori was over with, Youichi had returned home to face his father one last time. Yuuya was sitting there with a pair of old boots on the table. Youichi hadn’t recognized the boots from anything.
“You want something, fucking bastard?” Youichi demanded.
“I was wearing these the day I met your mother,” Yuuya explained, “I was also wearing them the day we conceived you.”
Youichi chose not to say anything right away. “Your fucking boots won’t fit me.” It was true, Yuuya’s feet were much larger than his son’s.
“Would you take a lace from one then?” Yuuya asked. “And return it when you’re done?”
For once, Youichi decided to humor his father about something. He unlaced the left boot and tied the lace around his neck. Yuuya stood up and set his hands on his son’s shoulders.
“Come back safe, Youichi.” Yuuya wished him sincerely.
“Tch.” And with that, Youichi shrugged off the man’s hands, spun on his heel, grabbed his bag, and left.
It was only fitting that Hiruma wore the well-wishes of the people back home on the same place: around his neck.
Short, simple, and full of emotion. Hiruma sealed the letter, addressed it, and put himself back into his cot, staring at Mamori’s letter, upset. He felt betrayed, for lack of a better description for the emotion. He thought Mamori had known him better and had known to take care of him better than this….
He shut his eyes to hold in the painful tears. Hiruma was not the kind of man who would cry over a girl. No he was not.
After putting the letter in the post himself the next morning, Hiruma went and relayed the news to his men and superior.
“Another squabble in command, huh?” Doburoku sighed, knowing what had really happened. Thankfully the rest of the men were a great deal more ignorant of what the words really meant.
Hiruma wasn’t given the chance to reply because there was an explosion somewhere else, not too far away. Several explosions followed the first and yelling of orders and sirens sounded.
“Fuck!” Hiruma grabbed his gun and stormed outside, into the chaos, and started helping regain order and return fire. Being a Sergeant no longer mattered, what mattered was that someone was in control and giving out orders and all you needed to do this was an authorative voice that was barking out something decently logical. Having both of those things in plenty, Hiruma managed to re-organize the soldiers in his immediate vicinity (despite the rank differences) and start rallying people to his side.
Sena appeared at some point, as if from nowhere, and told Hiruma that most of his command had managed to gather in an area about 50ish yards to their left. Unfortunately there was a lot of enemy shells and a nasty trench between the two parties, how Sena had managed to cross it was beyond Hiruma.
“Send them fucking left and make them meet up with fucking Don.” Hiruma told Sena. “I’m staying here with the fucking invalids.”
“Sir!” Sena ran away again, firing off his gun twice as he went. The kid was good at running it seemed, cutting through the battle, hitting foe as he went. Hiruma said nothing and ducked behind some crates. He looked over the top and saw the enemy tanks.
“Fucking tanks!” Hiruma hissed, clearly not pleased. “Anyone got a fucking grenade?”
“No sir!” One of the other men, a Sergeant Major, responded. Hiruma turned around and looked at the tank again. There was something off….
The tank had been hit with a shell, part of the mechanics was exposed!
“Cover me!” Hiruma snapped as he climbed up on the creates, normally a suicidal move, but he had a plan. He took his gun and aimed it.
Bang!
The bullet flew true, embedding itself in the mechanics of the tank. Unfortunately all that seemed to do was stop the turret from turning. The tank stopped and the hatch opened. Hiruma waited for the man to climb completely out before he shot him, four times, killing him.
Another explosion occurred near Hiruma’s location. There was another tank. Shit.
Acting quickly, Hiruma leapt down and had the men take cover.
“What about the wounded?” One of the soldiers crouched down next to Hiruma asked.
Hiruma swallowed painfully. “They’ll understand.” Hiruma muttered lamely. There was little he could do to protect the wounded without getting them all killed.
Monta, one of the monkey-like green soldiers in Hiruma’s command, had injured his arm in the pervious battle but was still able enough to run over. Hiruma was about to snap at the idiot when he saw that Monta had an armful of grenades.
“Ke ke ke!” Hiruma cackled, new plans spinning in his mind. They still had a chance yet!
“Here.” Monta handed one to Hiruma. It was a long handled grenade, good for throwing. Hiruma took it and looked over at the new tank. The turret was turning there way and was about 4 seconds from firing on their location. Without thinking any more, Hiruma pulled the pin and threw the grenade expertly at the tank. It flew through the air like an axe did and by some miraculous chance, went right down the turret barrel.
Boom!
The enemy never knew what hit ’em. Their deaths were instant.
“Status!” Hiruma cried again after he sent Monta up a tree to get a better view of what was going on.
There were no new injured, but those who had been able enough to walk among the injured had come out. With a tired nod Hiruma faced them.
“We’re holding our position and yielding to no one unless its Major Don, is that clear?” Hiruma ordered them.
“Sir!”
The battle finished that evening. The death count went up and the number of injured also did. It took them several weeks to reorganize the camp, the remaining troupes, and send off the mail.
Once the reorganization was done, Hiruma and his men were sent out on another march. This time they were meeting up with another encampment to request supplies and issue orders. After a week of long marching, they arrived there, only to find a new shipment of mail had come in.
Much to Hiruma’s embarrassment, his mail was delivered to him right in front of his men.
“…You have a girlfriend?” Takekura asked, an amused look on his face.
“Shut it Corporal.” Hiruma hissed back and tucked the letter safely into his jacket. No one mentioned the letter and it was left forgotten until that evening when, in the privacy of his own tent, Hiruma pulled it out and opened it up.
Despite the envelope being perfect and pristine, Mamori’s letter was crinkled and her letters were rushed and blotchy. Her hand hadn’t been steady when she wrote this.
Youichi-
You call that a note!? You didn’t even bother acknowledging me in the slightest! Give me one good reason why I should ever send you coffee again! I sit here all day worrying about you and Sena and working so hard to keep everyone in town’s spirits up and what do you do!? You demand a coffee! I don’t actually have the beans to spare most of the time. Everything’s on rations, especially coffee!
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
She had been worried. Very worried.
Hiruma ran a tired hand through his hair and glanced at the calendar beside him. It’d been just shy of two months since he last heard from her. No wonder she’d been so worried. He shook his head and moved to put the letter away, when he realized that the paper wasn’t going into the envelope smoothly at all. He looked inside the envelope and found something he hadn’t been expecting at all.
Mamori’s lucky bracelet.
It was a simple bit of twine with a four leaf clover the local smith had fastened between two bits of glass. There was another piece of paper, this one a scrap, in the bottom of the envelope. He took it out and read it.
return it
Nodding slowly, Hiruma took the bootlace off from around his neck and tied the bracelet to it, then put it back on.
Now that telling Mamori was over with, Youichi had returned home to face his father one last time. Yuuya was sitting there with a pair of old boots on the table. Youichi hadn’t recognized the boots from anything.
“You want something, fucking bastard?” Youichi demanded.
“I was wearing these the day I met your mother,” Yuuya explained, “I was also wearing them the day we conceived you.”
Youichi chose not to say anything right away. “Your fucking boots won’t fit me.” It was true, Yuuya’s feet were much larger than his son’s.
“Would you take a lace from one then?” Yuuya asked. “And return it when you’re done?”
For once, Youichi decided to humor his father about something. He unlaced the left boot and tied the lace around his neck. Yuuya stood up and set his hands on his son’s shoulders.
“Come back safe, Youichi.” Yuuya wished him sincerely.
“Tch.” And with that, Youichi shrugged off the man’s hands, spun on his heel, grabbed his bag, and left.
It was only fitting that Hiruma wore the well-wishes of the people back home on the same place: around his neck.