War Of The Age

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What had become of this dismantled planet, I did not know. How we allowed our intentions to become so indulgent to destruction, I did not know. But I do know how it began. Like all immense tragedies in history, it began small. By the year of 2037, Earth was undergoing more suffering then we could have ever dreamed. The struggle for oil, resources, and power had reached its fracture, leaving fate to bare our mistakes. Poverty and sickness seemed to grow vaster all around the world. As sure as God’s vengeance, the first bombs were dropped on American soil on June 27, 2038. For nearly three years, countries such as Iraq, Japan, Belgium, Korea, Germany, Italy, Vietnam, and many others had secretly been planning to attack more powerful countries. Their alliance was powerful, and they decided to rightfully take back power which they had lost. Along with the United States, the United Kingdom, China, Canada, and Russia began falling under attack. The politicians and newspapers called it the next World War and no one could disagree. So it was, in the beginning of the 21st century, that our world would become divided, and the Greatest War would begin.

Now, there I was, nearly twenty years later in the year of 2055. I stood firm and steady with the rest of my platoon in our Geosub. Ever since the bombs fell, America had joined an alliance with most of Europe, besides seven countries that had joined the “United Supremacy”. Also under our belt, we had South America and some countries from Africa and Asia. Our side had been given the rightful name of the “Inner Alliance”. Australia and Antarctica were now neutral zones. So it was, I held my submachine gun loosely as we made our way to the Vatican City in Italy. The Italians had joined the United Supremacy, so my platoons Geosub, along with one thousand others, headed to the city to fight. For those who are unaware of a Geosub, it is a miniature submarine like ship that stays underwater until it is seventy-five feet before reaching land, and then it rises above water firing .50 caliber machine gun bullets. My greatest fear had always been fighting in this war. Ever since I was thirteen years old I had been living through it, and now my time had come. My father had lost his life seven years before in this war, and I did not want to share the same fate. Sweat dribbled from my chin and adrenaline consumed me until we began to rise above water at seventy- five feet before land.

The next thing I knew, I was lying next to a man who had been violently pierced by two bullets. His bitter bloody body stared at me as I fired my deafening machine gun at a sniper on a roof. I was there in Vatican City. I had never been there before, but it had now been turned to ruin by the war. Beautiful buildings stood destroyed, with flame leaking from the walls and bullet holes that had been blasted throughout the brick. I, along with two other men, remained shooting at the sniper until we took him out. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a rifleman peeking out of a window. Without hesitation, I turned and filled his chest with steaming lead. After shooting, I unlatched the clip from my weapon and began to reload. Just as I began this, screaming bullets sped past my face, like a deadly swarm of hornets. The shooting came from down the road, from at least three men. My entire platoon, who took cover behind vast piles of brick, shot back. In the speed of light, I detached a hand grenade from my belt. After pulling the clip, I heaved it across the road. As if God had struck the earth, the grenade set off an enormous powerful explosion. Fire caught to the dead grass and debris hovered through the air. I had killed the men. That’s when I turned to find that my platoon had been surrounded. North, South, East, and West there were men in black masks who all had their weapons ready to fire upon us. We were surrounded, and I was sure I was going to die.

I woke up with a blinding light in my eyes. I was in a mysterious bright room, and I had been tied down to a chair. My heart pace quickened when I saw two men, both in ski masks, pointing their heavy pistols at my chest. All at once, one of the men lowered his gun and threw his mask off. In disbelief, one tiny tear dropped from my eye and rolled down my face. The man was my father. How? He had died in the war. But sure enough, it was him. He smiled and rubbed my hair. As I began to ask many questions and grew more urgent, he stayed calm and explained. He told me that everything I had ever known about the Great War was a lie. He began to tell me about the United States, and the rest of the Inner Alliance. He spent hours telling in detail how we had bombed our own country so we would have an excuse to go to war, and we could steal other countries resources. It was us who had begun the war, us who had lied and forged attacks, just to profit more power. When I asked my father how he had found out, he told me it was the same way I did. When he was sent to war, “The League” had found him and spoke the truth. The League had grown to over ten thousand strong of those who knew the truth about the war, and wanted to fight against it.

So, I write to you now, whoever cares to listen. If anyone believes that freedom and sacrifice takes an act of personal authority, if anyone believes that our world has been shaken by the enormous monstrosity of our government and organizations, if anyone believes that the echoes of our word should be heard all around the world, then I urge you to join us. My name is Daniel Miller, and I am a member of The League.





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