HOLD IT HOLD IT! Before you scroll past this and get to the little snippet of a story let me beg your pardon first. This is, in fact, quiet undeniably, another small story set in wartime. Please, please, I sincerely beg your pardon.

No, I don’t have any excuses. What can I say? Wartime actually really fascinates me, and I’ve just been for a visit to President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s museum and home and so I’ve got World War Two swirling around in my head and then my sister gave me this writing prompt and… ok yes I’m trying to excuse myself. Oh well, can’t be done. You’re just gonna have to put up with it. 😉

So, I guess I’ll show you what the writing prompt was AFTER you read my little blurb. Please enjoy it, and feel free to comment and say something like, “ENOUGH WAR! Can’t you write about anything else?!?”

Ahem. Now. Let me shut up.

 

There was an intense hush on the C-47 while each of the twenty-eight men onboard ran through mental checklists. Many of these men had had former experience in jumping from thousands of feet in the air into live fire, but this was Victor’s first real combat assignment. He’d trained for this, yes. He was used to falling for long periods of time and then feeling his body yanked back when the chute spread out. But this time he’d be landing on French soil with German guns trained on him. 

Victor’s thoughts were muddled at best as he sat with the others along the side of the plane. In fact, most of the pieces swirling together in his brain were snatches of songs. From “The Bugle Boy” to “The White Cliffs of Dover”, he sifted through all sorts of tunes, each recalling numerous memories of home in New York. For a split second all he wanted to do was get back to Albany and pick up his old trumpet. It had been his constant friend and companion, even during his time in the military. 

Finally, the order was given to prepare for the jump. They were going in five minutes. Victor glanced over his gear, checking and tightening straps and adjusting gloves, helmet, and mask. He slapped one of his front pockets, feeling for the small metal cricket. It was there. Slowly letting out a breath he looked over at Graham, who was shouldering his backpack. 

“Ready?” He asked. 

“Yeah. You, Frenchie?”

“I think so.”

“Strangest homecoming ever, am I right Victor?” asked Nate behind him. 

“You got that right,” said Victor. He’d come from France when he was twelve with his family and his accent had earned him his nickname, “Frenchie.” This would be his first time back in his native country. 

“When we get down there we’ll try to stick together,” said Graham. “These crickets should be a help.” 

“I’ve got mine.”

It was time to move and the doors were opened. One jumped, then the next, then the next. Victor was twelfth in line. Nate put a hand on his shoulder and muttered “I’ll see you down there, Frenchie.”

It was his turn to jump. And as he stood for a moment on the brink of open air his eyes took in the landscape below him. A patchwork of dull green and brown and muddy yellow rectangles, all different sizes spread under his feet. France. Already, small puffs of smoke and debris could be seen floating over the terrain. And in those short seconds the trumpet in his head changed its tune. He heard his national anthem as clear as if someone was playing it right behind his head. Not the Star Spangled Banner, but his native anthem, La Marseillaise. And as Victor jumped, he heard these words clear as bell in his heart, calling him to battle. 

“Arise, children of the Fatherland

Our day of glory has arrived

Against us the bloody flag of tyranny 

is raised; the bloody flag is raised.”

 

Now. You’ve read it. And you’re allowed to throw a hissy fit and clobber me. But now I’ll give you my prompt and you might be able to see my thought process… or maybe not… my thoughts aren’t clear probably 90% of the time…

So my sister texted me saying, “I’ll send you a picture and a word. Combine them into a story.” And with those words she sent me this picture…

… and then the word which was trumpet.

It was a great prompt and stretched my brain. But then my mind seems to either think fan fiction or World Wars… so yup. You can see the result.

Anyways… enough of that. I’ll pop in again later and hopefully I’ll have something of a different theme altogether. But until then, have a lovely day!

Love,

Hannah Jo <3