A young man sat within the hull of an armored personnel carrier.
He pulled out his sidearm and looked at its grips.
The black synthetic checkered panels had been swapped for transparent replacements, and beneath them lay a photograph of his wife waiting for him back home.
She stood there in the picture dressed in her wedding gown, taken on the day of their marriage.
So beautiful, so graceful, so tender.
He could only smile bitterly and place a finger on the grip, gently caressing the smile that lay beneath.
That is until the thunder of a shell detonating in the waters nearby jolted him and the men beside him back to attention.
The man quickly holstered the pistol as the radio operator leaned in and spoke.
"Hauptmann, we're just about at the launch point. The ramp will be lowered any minute now… we're expected to lead the charge."
The captain sighed heavily and shook his head, letting his thoughts slip beneath his breath like a confession.
