My name is Harry and for as long as i remember i had admired a single person so much that i tried to make my life more like theirs in every single way. This person is my older brother, John. When i was 14 years old and was 19 i remember getting my hair cut in the exact same way as him. As soon as he saw my hair i expected him to be happy and tell me i looked smart. Instead he greeted my with a swift right hook to the ribs. My emulation of him, instead of pleasing him, made him want to hit me. I toned down my efforts to be more like him. I say 'toned down' i just parted my hair to the other side.
For as long as i remember my younger brother Harry has been copying me. When he was 13 or 14 he got his hair cut in the exact way as mine. I gifted him with a punishing right hook to the ribs. After that he 'stopped' copying me. I say 'stopped' he just parted his hair to the different side as mine. Well now i wish i had allowed him to have his way how he wanted it. Now as i prepare to storm the beach of Normandy. Now as i prepare to be gunned down. Gunned down.Alone and frightened. Why was i here? Was i here to fight for freedom? To fight for freedom of every man,women and child. Or was i here to be a target, to be just another body in this supposed war against 'Tyranny'. I laugh in the face of any man who says isn't thinking the same.
John had joined the army. He was being shipped off to Normandy the following week. After much deliberation i decided that i myself would join the army. I would join the army and me and John would storm the beach of Normandy. Side by side we would shoot the Germans were they stand. Single handedly we would free the world of this war. Alas it wasn't that simple. I had to lie about my age, a thing i wasn't comfortable with doing. I thought to myself 'Why would they deny any child his dream of fighting for queen and country'. 'Why they deny a boy the chance to become a man? To prove himself in the line of fire?'. Well none of that...