I don't own anything with Medal of Honor on it.
Private Nathan Smith sat in his seat. He was confused by his own thoughts. On one hand, he should be excited, eager to seek and destroy Jerry. On the other hand, he knew he might never make it back, that his mother would receive the letter. He thought of his sister back in Texas, who cried when he enlisted in the Army. "I should send somthin' back," he said to himself. "Like what?" The question from his best friend Tim was a good one. He didn't reply. When this whole thing was over, he knew what he was going to do. He would stay in the Army. What else did he have? Back in middle school, he got good grades, but he excelled in fighting. That was that. He looked at the M1 rifle in his hands, only semi believing that he held it. The whole thing had been a giant rush.
"Jump, jump, jump," yelled the instructor. It was his first real jump. If he fell, then he would die. It was as simple as that. But, it seemed like he was the only one who had second thoughts. Everyone else saw this as boring as a classroom session. They all saw it as something that was a mere boring bump on the road of excitement. Nathan wasn't sure if that 'bump' was as big as it looked. Soon it came to his turn. Taking a deep breath in, he jumped.
Outside, the sky was getting stormy. It almost seemed to shake the entire frame of the plane. "We don have ta worry 'bout Jerry," one of the paratroopers remarked, "fuckin plane's gonna blow pieces in this weather." "Shut up," came the harsh reply, "you wanna jinx us?" No one said any thing after that. This was nothing like boot. He wondered just how many Nazis were down their, and how good their aim was. If he was lucky, they would not find him and he would land right on the edge of a forest. Suddenly the plane jumped high and fell low, and Smith became painfully aware of his surroundings. Out the door, he could see flak exploding high in the sky, and he knew that somewhere on the ground, Jerry was gunning to take him down. He hoped that the pilot was more skillful than Jerry. If he was very lucky, he just might not puke. "Almost there," shouted the pilot. What seemed like an eternity later, he stood and attached his hook to the line. The light turned green. Tim jumped and Smith was next. Beneath him, he saw clouds. Not friendly white clouds, but hostile gray ones. Looking down, he did what he did in boot a few weeks earlier. Nathan Smith took a deep breath and jumped.