#gwaddd

    He couldn’t take it anymore. The constant barrage of sights, smells, and sounds that rocked him to the core every waking moment of his shattered young life. He’d hoped he’d make it home okay, put the money he’s earned back into the farm. Buy himself a cow, maybe a horse or two.

“ I can’t do this anymore Sarge!“

    Tears streak down the boy’s dirty face, leaving trail marks through the caked on grime. He’s a mess, some spots sporting what almost looks like dried blood mixed in with all of the mud. Finnigan wants to go home and he doesn’t want to do so in a box, like so many of his mates already have.

“ I’ve blown so many of ‘em up but they jus’ keep comin’! “

    His handy word practically molds into the fallout caused by air raids. Destruction comes from steady hands that have crafted horrors out of scrap no one thought useful. He was an artist when it came to explosives, a regular Reaper among men and machine. It wouldn’t translate well back home, he knew this.

“ Gods I wish they’d just stop comin’…. “

      ‘ HEY -- ‘

He’s SHAKING, gun quivering as he takes a step forward to stop him from walking away. There wasn’t TIME for this, to have a BREAK down in the middle of fighting -- wasn’t the time to WALK away.

           ‘ DID YOU NOT HEAR ME ? ? ? ‘

A hand shoots out grabbing the kids shoulder and tugging him back, making him look in to his eyes.

     ‘ You see this SHIT going on here -- you see how many are coming ? ? ? We ALL have to deal with it, we all need to mow them down cause if you don’t THEY -- WILL FUCKING WIN THIS WAR. Do you want them to win this war Finn ? ? ?         Hmm --                 CAUSE I SURE AS HELL DON’T. Now -- ‘

Shoves him away again, being close to someone put him on edge --