Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Red (10/01/09)
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TITLE: Red Bone's | Previous Challenge Entry
By stanley Bednarz
10/04/09 -
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He looks at me like he's on stage as the dust clears, and wants the full dramatic effect to sink in to our battle worn stupor. By now, most everyone is disgusted with him, and his free wheeling spirit. Most guys in my platoon are from places like Queens, or the Bronx, and have little patience. I'm from a cornfield town in Iowa, so I try to be the bridge. "Okay, where did you get the mannequin?"
"Well Sarge. I was mindin my own business when these kids were on the roadside gettin ready to torch this poor fella. I guess on the count he looks like us. What ya think, I get my purple heart?"
The mannequin had an issued Army uniform decked in camouflage green, and one unauthorized pair of sunglasses. Despite the fact that it was missing one arm, it proudly held the other in a calm salute. It's bright plastic flesh exposed in only a sliver of places, made our imagination run wild! What a great decoy this would make, in what we called "The Red Zone."
We waited for Riley to fall asleep beneath a jumble of stars that reminded him of Texas. Riley had the mannequin's one good arm around his neck, so we had to be real careful. Riley called him " "Red Bone's." For the rest of the day we never argued with him, since are plan was set, and looked at each other, as children getting ready to steal from the neighbors backyard.
We prepared "Red" for battle, and he never once complained, for even a canteen of water. All we did was strap on a web helmet and a belt of Chinese fireworks. I doubled as a chaplain, and led my fellow NY soldiers in a hushed prayer, careful not to wake Riley. I felt a twinge of guilt pass over me, that I should presume to grow a soul inside "Red." Nevertheless, I deduced it as a good cause, for whatever fate lie at the "bloody rock."
It must have been almost two in the morning when my two Brooklyn guys who could never tell the difference between stupid and brave, slithered out in the dark opening, until finally leaving our little buddy against the large jagged rock, about a hundred yards out. We made sure "Red faced us, and the enemy would catch a glimmer of his pink flesh or helmet facing us.
It was four in the morning, when our plan worked! I was so excited I could feel my heart thumping up my throat. Riley lightly snored, groping for his friend, but only catching air. Meanwhile we spied through our night vision waiting for just the right moment the enemy came in to our shooting gallery.
When the moment was right I had the honor of sacrificing "Red" for the cause. I tore him apart with machine gun fire! Sparks flew everywhere! Fire lit the sky! The enemy didn't know which way to run, but we picked them off one by one.
Andrew, one of the boys from Brooklyn looked at me and smiled from ear to ear, giddy with excitement as a child, but with a jaw bone the size of "Mount Rushmore." 'Hey Sarge. This is just like a Coney Island on the Fourth of July."
I turned to him while bullets and fireworks exploded in a violent celebration, and calmly said. "Yes, I believe you're right, but held my own image of field days, back in Iowa. That day we licked the enemy, and had glorious flashbacks of home, with one exception.
Riley came sweeping by us to rescue Red, even though I'm sure pieces of him lay miles apart. We had to tackle him! We dragged him back. I did my best to calm him down, by telling him I would submit paperwork for "Red Bone's" to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor. Riley insisted I wore my chaplain hat as I told him.
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Your title (and the places in the story where the name is used) should not have an apostrophe, as "Bones" is simply a plural.
This would appeal to teen and young adult men, I think!
The wacky humour is realistic of the combat situation and the camatradarie of the troop. I like the description of the mannequin as well and could imaging the scene!