September 2, 2004
By this time, I had decided I wanted to join the U.S. Military. During the summer of 2005, I was recruited as a Private in the 101st Battalion. I was happy that I would get to serve my country. On September 11, 2001, I was only 15 years old, just a normal sophomore in high school. I decided right then that I wanted to be in the Military.
July 22, 2013
We were on a routine check in Afghanistan. Our convoy was speeding through the vast desert, stirring up a massive dust cloud. In our group we had 5 heavily armed Humvees, 2 huge, extremely armed tanks, and 3 transports. About 3 months ago, I was promoted to General, and received the Medal of Honor. I saved General Smith’s life. I shouldn’t be this high in rank, but Smith thought I was ready. We were ambushed by terrorists and Smith was wounded badly. If I didn’t help him, he would die.
“Don’t worry,” I said quietly, “I’m going to get you some help.”
With my entire mind protesting the idea, I slung Smith over my shoulders, and ran 175 yards to the Forward Operating Base. I could feel the wind off the bullets as they whizzed inches by my head, slamming into trees and rocks. I was determined to help Smith, so I didn’t stop until we arrived at the FOB. I busted through soldiers in the way and found a Medic. I put Smith down and began to leave when my legs gave out and I crumpled to the floor. I woke up 12 hours later and say Sgt. Major Wilson sitting in a chair by me. He looked up and smiled.
“You took quite a beating out there, he said. He laid a small, cold, metal tray on my chest. “See these?” he said, picking up several bloody, crushed bullets from the tray. “These are AK47 rounds, and you were hit by 24 of them.” “Fortunately, 21 were stopped by your vest.” 2 had hit my left leg, and 1 in my left arm. He turned to leave and said, “Oh, by the way, General Smith wanted me to relay a message to you,” Good morning General.” I couldn’t believe it. Just 12 hours ago, I was a Sgt. Major.
I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. We were about 3 hours from base, but this time, we took a more direct route, one we had never taken before. All of the sudden, the driver slammed on the brakes and radioed the rest of the convoy to stop.
“What’s wrong?” I asked
“That’s a minefield.” He responded, pointing out the front window. I unlatched the heavy steel door of the Humvee and stepped out. It was the most extensive minefield I’ve ever seen. Wilson walked up behind me.
“Look over there.” He said, pointing into the distance. I shielded my eyes from the blazing sun and saw an overturned U.S. Army Humvee buried halfway in sand. There were burning pieces of metal scattered around, and there was a large hole in the side. We walked over to the wreckage.
“This couldn’t have happened very long ago.” I stated.
“No,” Wilson replied.
“Sir,” I heard behind me, “Sir, I need to speak with you ASAP.” It was Lt. Cortez.
“What’s up, Cortez?” I asked when Wilson and I got over to him.
“Look where that Humvee is,” he said “Look for anything strange.” He walked over to a small Humvee.
“It’s not in the minefield,” I said, dumbfounded, “But how…?” I was interrupted by a shrill whistling noise. One of the smaller, less armored Humvees erupted into a massive fireball. The blast threw Wilson and I off our feet and on our backs in the sand. Two soldiers ran over, grabbed my shoulders, and pulled me through the sand behind the biggest, most armed tank in the group. I saw soldiers doing Wilson the same way. The ringing in my head was unbearable. All I could see was a bright, blurry mass of light in front of me. We were fully recovered in a few minutes, but by that time, about a dozen soldiers were dead. We grabbed our M16s, took cover behind a Humvee, and started shooting. Our snipers had picked off the terrorists with RPGs, but the rest were giving them some difficulty. A young soldier was shot in the chest, and he fell into the sand. Wilson stood up.
“Cover me!” he yelled. Wilson ran out towards the fallen soldier and grabbed his shoulder. He dragged him all the way over to the medic. When he stood up, a sniper shot up and pointed his gun at him. I put him in my sights and pulled the trigger, but he pulled his quicker. The bullet went through the back of his head and blood splattered onto the ground. His body fell to its knees, and dropped into the sand.
“Wilson!” I exclaimed. I fought back tears as I remembered all the time we spent together. Wilson had been my friend since junior high and all the way up to now. I couldn’t let him die in vain. I stood up and ran towards the terrorists shooting every time one popped up. Bullets slammed into the ground all around me, but I didn’t care. A sniper popped up from a rock and pointed his gun at me. He fired and I felt the .308 round tear through my left shoulder. The energy unleashed flung me to the ground. I stood back up, shooting my rifle with one arm. Another sniper fired at me and the bullet tore through my chest. I thought I was surely dead. Out of nowhere, an American attack chopper flew over the mountain and unleashed its weapons on the terrorists. It landed and several soldiers picked me up and carried me into the chopper. We flew off, headed for the hospital. The one at the base we were on the way to in the first place.
“Tell Wilson’s wife that I’m sorry.” I said to the nearest soldier. I lost consciousness, and my thoughts faded away.

June 27, 2513
I wake up in a small room. A man is sitting by my bed. He is speaking into something on his wrist. I notice he has a very thick Russian accent.
He looks up and sees I am awake.
“Good Morning, General,” he says, “I am General Dimitri Borov.
“Good morning, where are we?” I ask
“Right now we’re about 55,000 feet in the air, on NS-1, the airbase,” he responds, “I don’t know how to say this easily, so I’ll just ask.” “Do you know what day it is?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s June 27, 2513.” “Before you say anything, let me explain.” “You were shot and in critical condition in 2013.” “If the bullet had been less than a half an inch over, you’d be dead.” “No one wanted to lose you, so they put you in a highly experimental hypersleep until we had the technology to help you.” “So, 500 years later, we awakened you from hypersleep, and we fixed you all up.” “There is also something I’d like you to see.” I stood up and felt fine, so I followed him until we reached a long chamber with names and pictures of people that died in wars from 2000 to 2500. General Borov walked me down to 2013 and pointed to a specific name. I looked and saw Wilson, smiling up at me. I fell to my knees in front of the wall. I try to stifle the tears as I kneeled there with my head against the cold steel.
“His heroic actions on the battlefield caused presidential recognition.” “General,” Borov said, “His wife received the Medal of Honor for him a week later, she wanted to say something to you.” He pushed buttons on his arm and the wall lit up.
So, on behalf of your husband’s heroic actions, I present Sgt. Major Alan Wilson with the Medal of Honor.” The President stated.
I’d like to say something,” Wilson’s wife said, “General, if you ever hear this, let me say that I forgive you, there was nothing you could have done to save him, and I know that he would be proud.”
“Also,” the President said, “I’d like to present the Medal of Honor to General David Hawkins.” “He is in the hospital in critical condition, so his wife and son will be accepting for him.” My wife, Amy Hawkins, and my son, David Hawkins junior, walked up on stage with tears in their eyes, and accepted the Medal.
“Congratulations to these two brave men.” The President stated. My family and Wilson’s family walked over to General Smith and shook his hand and hugged him.
“General, we awoke you because we need your help.” “We’ve gathered the greatest military leaders to help us fight our war.” “This isn’t over the freedom of people we don’t know, like Afghanistan, this is over the planet.” “Over the last 500 years, we’ve conquered other planets to assist us with our greatest enemy ever, the Quarians.” “The Quarians and their army are on the way, and I need to know if you’re in or not.” The memories of what happened to Wilson all flooded back, and I knew what had to be done. All of this was true. I really was in 2513, and the planet really was at risk. I looked up at General Borov.
“General, I’m in.”