Detective Johnny Creed

noreply@blogger.com (John P) — Sat, 02 Jun 2007 01:48:00 +0000

Hi, here is a great film that you'll love.

The Plaintiff Cry

noreply@blogger.com (John P) — Tue, 03 Apr 2007 19:34:00 +0000

This was written for a contest and I did not even make the finals group. Please let me know what you think.

“Is anyone out there?! Please, anyone!!!” This cry came from the depths of despair, from the bottom of the human heart. This cry was the response to the silence and desolation that surrounded him. The silence that pervaded everywhere was the kind of silence that followed a violent storm.

The source of this plaintiff cry was Gerald Simmons. The boy of sixteen stood in a windowless prison cell that he had inhabited since the night before. He was alone in the prison. Everyone had run out during the attack. Even the prisoners who could shoot were released, but not Gerald. He was an important prisoner. The enemy’s son always is an important prisoner.

Who was Gerald Simmons and what were the circumstances that led to his imprisonment? Who was fighting whom? What was the cause of the desolation and silence? The purpose of this story is to answer those questions and to tell you what happens next.

By the year 2105, the human race had tired of fighting over the Earth and had reached to the stars for more land. Every country on Earth was practicing this new form of imperialism. Even the small countries of the world banded together and went out to capture the stars.

As always happens when two entities want the same thing, hostilities broke out and sides were taken. The African Union, the South American Defense Confederation, and many other small nations united to create the Small Nation Defense and Exploration Alliance or SNDEA. The communist countries united under the leadership of Russia to form the Soviet Galactic Army or SGA (pronounced Saga). The member countries included Russia at the fore with China, North Korea, Cuba, Mexico, and the old Soviet Republics.

The United States of America was surprised to find herself alone. Her traditional allies of England, France, and Germany joined the European Union to create the European Agency to Explore the Stars and Defend Acquisitions or EAESDA, but commonly known as the European. Left with no alternate, the United States Space Force was brought into being.

The US signed an alliance with SNDEA and the two formed a common front against the alliance between SGA and the European Organization.

(If you can understand who created what organization and who was who’s enemy then you are to be congratulated. For those of you who cannot, don’t worry, it’s just the usual political nonsense.)

Gerald Simmons’ father, Carl, was the US Governor of the Sentinel Sector in the Rublin Quazar near Solon. This area was known as the “fringe of the unknown” because what lay beyond it had not yet been explored. This area was well known and infamous for the simple reason that many criminals sought refuge in the “unknown”.

Governor Simmons’ headquarters was on the Warstar U.S.S. Vixen. The huge vessel was manned by a crew of twenty-six thousand and spent its time patrolling the Sector. It had the ability to hold off an entire fleet alone or to explore a planet and hold it against invasion. The whole thing looked like a huge cigar with a giant ball in the middle.

The Warstar boasted of an army of twenty thousand highly trained Space Marines. The huge hangars contained hundreds of starfighters and support craft, as well as many land fighting vehicles.

The thirtieth of June was the annual Founders’ Day Celebration on the Planet Yivo. This was the great celebration of the year and as such the Governor was required to attend. It was deemed an insult if the Governor’s entire family did not come. And this Governor did not fail to meet that requirement, not only because of the bad vibes it would cause, but also because he enjoyed the annual celebration. There were many parades, banquets, entertainment. It was one of the few times that the Governor and his family were able to relax.

The Governor’s transport vehicle departed the Warstar at approximately 11 am. Inside the spacious and luxurious spacecraft sat the Governor, his wife, and young Gerald as well as the Governor’s thirteen man bodyguard detail.

The Governor was a tall, thin, jolly man in his late fifties. His temples were touched with gray, but there was not much else that betrayed his age. The monthly IV treatments he took freed his body from all plaque and signs of aging. His wife was short, plump, and jolly with streaks of white and grey in her own hair. Whenever Gerald looked at his parents they reminded him of a fairy tale from the past he had learned many years ago in school.

Gerald did not have a high opinion of himself. He saw himself as gangly and out of shape. He spent a lot of time depressed and dejected. This was the opposite of the truth. Gerald was a fine handsome young man with a build like his father. His mother worried about him, but his father knew that he was just going through what young men had been going through since the beginning of time: the teenage years.

Gerald was staring out the window with a sad, bored expression as Yivo flew up to meet them.

“Geri, is there anything wrong?” asked his mother, worriedly. As many times as she has seen him like this, it never failed to alarm her.

“Nothing’s the matter, Mom,” he mumbled in reply.

“Let the boy alone, Karen,” said his father from his seat next to the pilot. “He’ll feel better once we reach the surface. Maybe the sight of some girls will perk him up.” A roaring laugh followed.

Gerald was oblivious to his father’s comments. His mind was far away. Like millions of other kids in the universe, he was daydreaming about his hero. Mr. Impossible was the rage for teens throughout the universe. This character was part robot and part man. He got his name because he could perform impossible feats.

Contrary to what his father said, Gerald did not perk up at all during the celebration. He kept to himself and ate just enough to keep everyone happy. After dinner, the president of Yivo introduced Gerald to his daughter, Tara. It was evident that both parents wanted the two to spend time together.

Tara took Gerald’s arm and proceeded to show him the wonders of her home world. She showed him the colored monkeys of Pemoa and the leathery giraffes of Kiros. These sights did not amaze Gerald. He was still despondent. This upset Tara because it made her feel like she had failed her father in showing the young man a good time.

“Is there anything wrong?” she asked worriedly.

“No,” replied Gerald. “It’s nothing.”

“You seem so sad. What is it?”

Gerald turned to her. There was fire and passion in his eyes. “Have you ever stopped to consider how futile our life seems at times?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at us. We are the offspring of wealth and power. Everything is handed to us. We have nothing to work for and no wants that are not taken care of by others.” He lapsed back into silence.

Tara looked at him and said, “And you don’t like it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to see something important that’s the result of my own work and not that of someone else. I need to fulfill an important undertaking, more important than being a governor’s son.”

“What would you want to do?”

“My dream has always been to lead some starfighters and bring criminals and pirates to justice.” He again became quiet.

Tara looked at him with new respect. She had never before heard the son of an important official renounce his wealth and position for adventure. Most of the ones she had met before were content to live off the hard work of others.

It was nearly five in the afternoon when the two young people returned to their parents at the banquet hall. There was to be one last banquet before the Governor’s party left. However before everyone sat down, there was a commotion, as several men emerged out of the crowd, carrying energy weapons. These men wore the uniforms of space pirates. They quickly shot down several guards and grabbed Gerald. He tried to struggle, but a stun blast knocked him out.

The guards failed to fire back because they were afraid of hitting the Governor’s son. They dragged him struggling to an idling starship. He was grabbed by eager hands.

Gerald was enraged and started to swing his fists wildly, trying to fight to freedom. But all his chances vanished when a crashing fist caught him under the chin. As he slumped to the deck the door was slid shut. A number of pirates had stayed behind to provide cover for the escaping ship. They didn’t last long because a nearby Army unit appeared and wiped out the pirates to the last man.

General Marcus of the Vixen was on the bridge when the call came in. Captain Reynolds received it. “General, pirates have crashed the banquet at the Founder’s Day Celebration. They grabbed the Governor’s son and are fleeing.”

The radar man concurred. “General, I have a reading of a small craft leaving the atmosphere. They don’t have any other ships, so they probably plan to jump, sir.”

“You don’t have to tell me what they planned to do,” snapped the General. He was a plump and aging man with a tuft of white hair and a large white mustache. In a word, he was the spitting image of General von Hindenburg. He had forty years of naval experience under the belt that covered his expansive paunch.

“Mr. Reynolds, as we can’t fire for risk of killing the Governor’s son, activate the tractor beam.”

“Tractor beam activated, sir,” replied Reynolds as he flipped the switch. Two tractor beams were placed on either side of the huge vessel’s nose. A third component was in the center to calculate the distance. Once this was done, the two beams would triangulate on the target. The thin beams snaked through the void toward the fleeing pirate ship.

Just as the tractor beam reached the target, the pirates jumped and went into cyberspace.

“What happened, Mr. Reynolds?” demanded General Marcus.

“Sir, the pirates jumped into cyberspace. I was able to get their coordinates before they jumped. Should we follow them, sir?”

General Marcus stood thinking for a moment. “No, Captain. It is our duty to guard this area, but we can send a wing of three fighters to follow them and keep tabs on them. Once we have located their base we will organize a rescue mission.”

The pirate vessel jumped no less than three times in order to lose anyone trying to follow him. Then, they set their course for Alpha Fafin, a secret SGA base. The pirates were actually SGA soldiers dressed in pirate outfits. Their main goal was to provoke a war on the pirates by the USSF while the Soviets built up their forces.

As the disguised Soviet vessel sat down, five Soviets in Regular Galactic Army uniforms ran up. They helped carry Gerald out and lock him up.

Gerald woke up with a start. He found himself on a hard bed surrounded by iron bars. He stood up and felt the bars to make sure they were real. As his anger grew, Gerald grabbed the bars and started to rattle the bars.

“Settle down, son,” said the prisoner in the next cell. “What are you in for?”

Gerald turned to him savagely, “These pirates kidnapped me from Yivo in the Sentinel Sector in the Rublin Quazar. My father’s the governor.”

The man shrugged. “See that guy in the cell next to me.” Gerald looked and saw a tall thin brown skinned man with wiry hair and a silly grin. “That man is or was the commanding general of the US outpost at Endo 5. They took him prisoner three years ago and still haven’t gotten around to sending the ransom note. I’ve been here for two years. My name is Grah Dweh, second in command of the African Space Agency’s Defense arm. They mistook me for the head man.”

“Who is the leader of this pirate outfit?” asked Gerald with the fire of anger and hate in his eyes.

His fellow prisoner started to chuckle, but stopped when he noticed the lad’s determined look. “Someone has been pulling your leg, son. These aren’t pirates. This is a secret Soviet outpost. The pirates were Soviets. I’d venture a guess that by making it look like pirates kidnapped you; the Soviets hope that the US starts a war with the pirates while the Soviets and their allies can arm. But, that’s just a guess.”

Gerald looked in horror. “Soviets! Soviet soldiers,” he exclaimed.

Just then a Soviet officer entered the room, followed by several heavily armed SGA troopers. He stopped in front of Gerald’s cell and said, “I see that you are awake, young man.” The officer walked up to the bars so his face was close to Gerald’s. “You are serving a very useful purpose for the Soviet Empire. For this I thank you.”

“It’s not as though I had a choice in the matter,” muttered Gerald.

“Silence,” screamed the Soviet general. “Of course, you had no choice in the matter. That is why you are in protective custody. Until you have served your purpose, that is.”

“What exactly is my purpose?” asked Gerald angrily.

“My young sir,” smiled the Soviet, “your purpose is to start a war between your government and the pirates because of your disappearance. If necessary, we will deliver you to your government to prove that we are in solidarity with them.”

“If you do that, I’ll spill the beans,” replied Gerald evenly.

“Not if you are dead,” said the general, as he returned Gerald’s smile. With that he turned and walked out of the jail.

Gerald sat in silence for several hours. His back was against the wall and his eyes looking into space. The only sound was the noises made by the other prisoners. There was a loud noise and Gerald turned his gaze towards the source. The noise was caused by a Soviet guard pushing a cart with a huge steaming pot and a pile of bowls. The guard started at the far end and worked his way towards Gerald. When the plate of glop was shoved under the door, Gerald ignored it.

Several hours later, the food was still untouched. Gerald was lying on his back, still staring into space. Dweh didn’t bother trying to talk to Gerald because he knew what the boy was going through. The same thoughts had gone through his mind when he was first taken captive.

Then, it happened. There was a thunderous explosion that rocked the entire base. In an instant, all the prisoners stood up and tried to see what was happening. There were loud cries in Russian, followed by lots of explosions. Gerald knew a little Russian, so he was surprised to hear the word “pirates”. Several guards came running in and started to release the prisoners, handed out weapons. When it came to pirates, even Soviets became allies.

When the guard started to unlock Gerald’s door, the General’s aide rushed in and shook his head. Gerald was stunned as the guard moved onto Dweh. Dweh caught Gerald’s look and shrugged. In a moment, Gerald was alone in the prison. He could see nothing; only hear the sounds of the battle. The barrage continued for about twenty minutes, and then one large explosion] silenced everything.

There was no sound, no footsteps, nothing. Gerald was scared.

“Is anyone out there?! Please, anyone!!!” he cried. Silence was the only thing he heard, deep and far reaching. The silence pervaded everything and everywhere. It terrified Gerald.

Then, he moved into action. He pulled the sheets and mattress off of his bed. He examined the legs and realized that they where not fastened very well. Within minutes he wrenched one free. He then pulled one of the sheets and dunked it in the pitcher that stood on a table next bed. Once he was sure that it was thoroughly soaked, Gerald tied it around two of the bars. Then, he inserted the leg and turned it.

After half an hour of work, Gerald had bend back the bars far enough to squeeze through. Once he was out, he took the leg in hand and walked out of the prison.

The first thing that Gerald saw was the carnage. Soviet soldiers and prisoners lay on the floor dead. He looked around the room and spotted Dweh. He rushed up and knelt beside the man. The chest of his tunic was scorched and burnt. His mouth was open and his eyes were mere slits.

When he felt Gerald’s touch, his eyes opened and he looked into Gerald’s eyes. “They killed us all. It was the Capricorn. Remember that, kid.” With that he closed his eyes and his head rolled to the side. Gerald tried to shake him, but to no avail.

Gerald had known Dweh only for a short time, but he felt grief for the man who has shown him, but a little kindness. Gerald rose again and noticed a pirate lying dead not far from Dweh’s dead form. He stepped over to the corpse and gave it a sharp kick.

A sudden noise from the airlock caused Gerald to pick up Dweh’s weapon and aim it toward the sound. But before he could fire, he recognized the light blue uniforms of the USSF. Gerald lowered his weapon to the relief of the two soldiers.

“You must be Gerald Simmons,” said one of the soldiers.

“What make you think that?” queried Gerald.

“Because you’re about the only one not wearing some kind of uniform,” replied one of the soldiers. “And we recognized you from your picture.”

“Where did you guys come from?”

“When the pirates grabbed you, we followed them when they jumped. They jumped several times to lose us, but we were one step behind until the last jump at Bom. We didn’t get here sooner became we lost our bearings on the last jump. We’re ready to take you back.”

Gerald looked back at Dweh’s lifeless body. “You saw the pirate vessel.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. When Gerald turned back to the soldier they saw a look of anger and broiling hatred.

“Yes,” replied one of the pilots. “It was a huge vessel. Half as big as the Vixen. “

“Is there still a bounty on pirates?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve got some collecting to do,” said Gerald, as he walked towards the airlock.

The huge vessel cut its way through space. The narrow prow pushed its way through ether of space. The area displaced was large enough for a major planet. The ship had huge dimensions for a reason. This ship was the Crescent, the home of most of the space pirates. The captain was Billy Harton, the most feared and ruthless pirate known. His pirate band roved the stars and brought in much booty.

The Crescent was just entering the Polac Debris Belt, where lots of space junk was congregated. The vessel was so huge that it feared no one. They had fought and defeated many who tried to capture them.

At that moment was arriving on the scene, Captain Harton is seated in his command chair on the bridge. The captain had once seen the antique film called Star Trek and the film had interested him enough to have the bridge of his ship designed to be an exact duplicate. Though the science of the movie was way off, the action was good enough.

If you looked at Captain Harton, you would call him tall, suave, and debonair. But that is only if you were very naïve and had never heard of him. As I stated before, Captain Harton and his ship were feared throughout the cosmos for their brutal attacks and evasion of capture.

Captain Harton was just biting into a sandwich when he was interrupted. “Captain, we’re picking up a message from the base. Admiral Spian is waiting to talk over the release of his men.”

“Did he bring the gold?” asked the Captain with a smile. The communications man nodded. “Too bad he forgot to ask if they were alive.” The entire bridge broke out into laughter. This was the way of Harton and his band of pirates.

“They have entered the ambush, sir,” said a figure from the shadows.

“Start Phase One.”

Harton was looking over some of his captured treasures, when the weapons officer spoke up. “Sir, five ships have shown up on the screen. Two on the port side, three on starboard. They are presently on a collision course with us. What should we do?”

“Alert the gunners. Give them permission to fire at will, but save the big guns for an emergency.”

If the pirates were able to observe the interior of the five approaching ships, they would be surprised. The ships had been stripped of all their furnishings. Their hulls had been filled to the brim with explosives of every shape and form. The sole aim of the refurbishment was the destruction of the pirate ship Crescent.

Anyone could obviously see that this mission was a suicide mission. But you surely must think that the crews would have to be crazy to attempt such a mission. The fact of the matter is the crew did not care, for you see, the crews in question were totally mechanical.

Anti-ship fire of every shape, size, and description laced the black void between the Crescent and the oncoming ships. Roughly half of the attacking fire was stopped by the ships’ shields. At soon as the Crescent opened fire, the ships had accelerated. Two of the space vessels were destroyed, but the other three impacted the huge ship.

The Crescent was separated into thirty different sections, complete with doors that sealed hermitically. The purpose of this was to ensure that the ship would survive even terrible damage. The huge doors could seal off the damaged areas and prevent any further damage.

Two of the explosive ships rammed engines on the port side, while the other blew a hole in the starboard side.

In the bridge, Captain Harton was shouting orders. “What’s the damage report? Were any of the fighters or land vehicles destroyed? How are the engines and shields?”

The replies came immediately. “Engine room has sustained considerable damage. Engines are inoperable. All power is lost to quadrant six. Sections five and seven have been sealed off. Starboard hanger was totally destroyed.”

“Launch all support ships. Give us a protective perimeter in case there are anymore ships around. Radio into the base for support.”

“Sir, phase one has succeeded.”

“Continue with the plan.”

“Initiating phase two, sir.”

Harton was watching the deployment of the starfighters when he saw it. Spaceships of various shapes, sizes, and manufactures materialized out of nowhere. They came out of the debris belt and surrounded the pirate vessel. There were frigates, destroyers, battleboats, carriers, spacefighters, warwagons, fireboats, and support ships of every sort. With one accord the circle opened fire.

The Crescent had already taken considerable damage and it was getting worse. The pirate spacefighters engaged the mysterious fighters, but they were outnumbered. Salvo after salvo rocked the huge pirate ship.

Captain Harton had sighted the biggest ship and decided to destroy it. “Energize the big ones and aim at that big capital ship near the large ring.” He was planning was to destroy what he thought was the flagship in the hope of demoralizing the rest.

Several commands from the weapons station and a huge armored plate opened up behind the bridge to reveal two superguns. The guns rose from there niche and turned.

Inside, however, one of the gunners triggered the weapon prematurely. A frigate next to the target was hit. The whole ship was darkened and it stopped firing. Everything electronic on the ship had been fried to a crisp.

The guns were forced to pause to recharge. That was a fatal mistake. Two torpedo ships broke through the ring of protective spacefighters and fired four torpedoes each at point blank range. The torpedoes slammed into the guns and blew them away. Harton pounded his chair arms in frustration.

“Prepare the transport and the team. It’s time to board.”

There was a bright flash in the bridge of the Crescent so bright that everyone had to close their eyes. When they looked up, seven men dressed in black stood in the middle of the bridge. The men were all tall and well armed, but one man stood out from all the others. He stood seven feet tall with a strong body and tapered blonde hair. His piercing blue eyes swept the bridge, while his men covered everyone with their weapons. His eyes finally fell on Harton, who was cowering in his seat. To Harton, the eyes seemed to seek him out and lock onto him.

The tall man advanced on Harton with a determined step. A black gloved hand reached out, grabbed the pirate’s shirtfront, and dragged him out of his seat.

The cold blue eyes stared into Harton’s frightened grey eyes. Then, a cold, hard voice filled the silence of bridge. “We finally meet face to face, killer. I’ve come to put an end to your reign of terror.”

All Harton could do was to gasp, “Who are you?”

“One who witnessed and survived one of your murderous raids and who has chased you for years,” was the reply. “Ever since you destroyed everyone, but me, during the attack, I hunted you down because I was appalled by you murder of everyone, innocent or not. Since then, I’ve hunted down many other pirates with prices on their heads so I could amass enough money to hunt you down. While doing so, I’ve arrived at the scene of many attacks just in time to see you disappear. Each time the destruction and loss of life was worse than the time before and each time my hatred of you grew stronger and stronger. And now I’ve found you. My name is Gerald Simmons.”

“Wha-what are you going to do?” asked Harton trembling.

“Destroy you and all who follow you.” With that Gerald sent the pirate flying back into his seat. The other hand drew a blaster pistol and fired it one into the pirate’s chest. Harton fell to the floor, dead. The other six men quick dispatched the rest of the crew efficiently and coldly. Gerald opened the panel in the arm of the command chair and pressed a button that he knew was there.

Within minutes, Gerald and his team were transported from the pirate ship to their own flagship. Gerald watched from the bridge as the pirate ship disintegrated into a million pieces. The information on the self-destruct button was good.

As he viewed the remains, Gerald felt a surge of sorrow and remorse. Partially, it was for the man who had befriended him, even for a short time. He could see Grah Dweh’s face before him. There was another face too. The faced belonged to Captain Harton.

The death of that man had been the goal of many years and was the only reason for the fleet under Gerald’s command. Gerald had avenged the deaths of hundreds, but why was he full of such remorse and sorrow? He remembered two quotes he had heard years ago that had spurred him on. “He who lives by the sword will die by the sword.” “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” He had lived by those words during the mission that has consumed his life.

But he had forgotten two more important quotes from the same book. “Revenge is mine.” “Thou shall not kill."

The Thief That Vanished Into the Night

noreply@blogger.com (John P) — Sun, 02 Jul 2006 21:12:00 +0000

This was a fun story to write. Enjoy! Please comment.

All was dark in upper floors of the Greenridge Building, except for a light in the office of Jim “Diamond” Spencer. A man dressed in white coveralls occupied the room. Anyone would have thought that he was a cleaning man except for the fact that the shades were down, the only light came from a lantern, and the man had a leather briefcase.

The man in coveralls had pointed the beam of the lantern so it was shining on the door of a large safe, the large “walk-in cooler” type. In the center of the huge metal door was a combination knob. The man inserted a round key into the center of the knob and gave it a full turn to the right, a half of a turn back to the left and removed the key. He turned the knob right to four, left to nine, left to five, right to one and left to zero. Pulling on the lever, the man opened the big door only to be confronted by another.

This door was different from the first because it had neither handle nor combination knob. It simply had a hand-shaped depression, a small circular hole, and a flat LCD computer screen.

The screen flashed the words, “Initializing retina scan.” The man put his eye to the hole. A laser beam lanced out from inside the hole and scanned the man’s retina.

The screen flashed a new message, “Retina scan was a success. Initializing hand scan.” The man breathed a sign of relief. If his retina had not matched, the laser would have burned his eye, but the contact lens had worked perfect.

The man put his hand in the proper indentation and was again rewarded with success. With a quiet click the door slid open, revealing the most expensive jewel collection in the country. The man quickly removed several trays of jewels from the safe and deposited them into the briefcase. The real jewels were replaced with clever glass copies.

The man closed both doors of the safe and turned off his light. Replacing everything as it had been when he entered; he opened the door and left the room.

Outside the door there sat a cart with a garbage barrel on it. The briefcase and the light were deposited into the bottom of the barrel and covered with rags and crumpled papers. The man took his cart into the elevator at the end of the hall and descended to the ground floor. After bidding the night watchman, “Good night”, the man loaded the cart into his truck and was on his way.

Paul, the Character

noreply@blogger.com (John P) — Sun, 02 Jul 2006 21:06:00 +0000

I rode this paragraph in high school as part of an English assignment. This is about an actual person I know.

One of things that age brings besides wisdom is character. Paul contributes extensively to this belief. If you are lucky enough to sit next to him, you must be careful, for when he starts on a subject that interests him, such as philosophy, you can be sure that he will use his hands extensively. Like the conductor of an orchestra or like a flag during a wind storm, he has a tendency to wave his arms around. You also run the chance of getting crumbs on you if he chances to be eating when he talks. Like the flames from the mouth of the biblical dragon fly the crumbs. If he is not talking about philosophy or politics, he is talking about gardening and the widows that chase him, the widower. Most of the time, his departing words are in Latin or Polish, are philosophical, or a joke that will leave you laughing. Overall he is a lovable and humorous character.

The Last Letters

noreply@blogger.com (John P) — Sun, 04 Jun 2006 22:14:00 +0000

This is the first story that I actually got published. Enjoy! Please comment.

After an exhausting day, Sgt. Jack Nolan of the 28th Infantry Division, now positioned at the quiet front near the Ardennes forest, sat down to write a letter home to his wife, Katie Nolan. Taking out pen and paper he started:

My Dearest Kate,
The days since I last wrote you were long, hard, and miserable. After we lost so many men at Huertgen Forest it was decided that we be moved to this area to rest. You know, of course, why I can’t tell you our exact location, but I can tell you it is peaceful here. I wish it was like this all the time. From here I can see Nazis hanging up their laundry. How is little Joseph getting along? I don’t have to remind you that it had been three years since I’ve seen our baby. I wonder if he can remember me. I can’t tell you how I’ve longed to hold him in my arms, you too for that matter. Sometimes, I lie awake at night thinking about you, dear. Hopefully this war will soon be over and I’ll be able to come home. Well, I’ll have to end here for now. Until my next letter, darling, I love you.
Your devoted husband,
Jack

Jack slowly folded the letter and placed it into an envelope that he had already addressed. Putting on his helmet, Jack walked over to the company headquarters.
“Hi, Tim,” he said to the clerk on duty. “Will you be sure that this letter is in the mail tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, Jack,” replied the clerk. “You’d better go get some sleep.”
“I’ll do that,” said Sgt. Jack Nolan as he saluted and returned to his tent.

Then next morning, Sgt. Nolan’s letter was loaded into a jeep, along with all the other mail from the troops. From that jeep it was transported to a cargo truck headed to Normandy to pick up supplies. At Normandy, it was put aboard a boat heading for England. Once there it hopped another ship this time to the US.
Once it reached the US it took three days to reach Mrs. Nolan. Tearing open the letter, she read it breathless. Smiling, she pressed it to her heart.

Two weeks later, Mrs. Nolan received another letter. This one said:

Dear Mrs. Nolan,
I am sorry to inform you that your husband, Sgt. John L. Nolan, died when a German artillery shell entered his tent during a large German offensive…

© JPW – June 4, 2006

Painful Wages

noreply@blogger.com (John P) — Sun, 04 Jun 2006 21:54:00 +0000

Here is a story that I wrote that tells a truth and holds some wisdom, unlike msot stories today.

I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to comment.

There was a boy who was very much of a troublemaker. He had trouble staying out of trouble. He could not stay on the straight and narrow. He was determined to get into trouble. He could never avoid any occasion to sin.
One day his father took him aside and told him this story:

My son, there was a man who was taught for an early age that drink was an evil. One day, the man left home to make it out on his own. He was traveling for miles and miles. He was very thirsty and was despairing of every receiving relief. However, a tavern soon appeared by the side of the road.
The man made his way to the door and entered it. He made his way the bar, where he asked for a cup of water. The bartender asked him if he would want a cold beer instead. The man remembering his education and answered no. The bartender shrugged his shoulders and left the bottle of beer on the bar anyway.
As he waited for the water, the man glanced at the beer. Again he remembered.
Finally, the bartender returned with the water which the man gulped down. Suddenly, he took another look at the beer and grabbed it. He drained it in two gulps. It was the man’s first drink.
After leaving the tavern and many times after that, the man tried alcoholic beverages. Slowly, but surely, what had begun as an experiment in the tavern grew into an addictions. One drink would to two. The drink brought a good feeling, but it also had a bad effect.
Finally, one day the man was killed in an auto accident. It was determined that the man was drunk since empty alcohol bottles filled the car.
Now, son, remember that one must avoid a bad habit when one is young. If you lead a virtuous life you will never have any need to regret it. But as soon as you fall into bad habits, get out my son or it will be you demise. Remember what the Bible says, “For the wages of sin is death.”

The son heeded his father for many years, but one day a woman caught his eye. It was the beginning of the end. At first it was innocent dates, but soon it devolved into something worse. Finally it bloomed into full lust. The son broke up with this woman because of her husband. As time went on, he had more women and more affairs. He became more of a monster as he fell further and further into sin. Soon he was a predator. One day he was arrest on the charges of rape and murder. The case went to court and the verdict was guilty, the sentence was death.
As the son heard the sentence read by the judge, he heard his father’s words in his head; If you lead a virtuous life you will never have any need to regret it. But as soon as you fall into bad habits, get out my son or it will be you demise. The son put his face in his hands and cried.

The Introduction

noreply@blogger.com (John P) — Wed, 03 May 2006 14:37:00 +0000

Everything needs an introduction, a beginning, a place to start and thst is exactly what this is. This blog will become many things. 1.) It will become a place were my stories can be read. (They are copyrighted of course.) 2.) It will be a place for me to sound off on religious, political, and material issues. 3.) It will be place were news will be heard that is otherwise unheard.

Now that I have explained what this site will be, I will tell you who I am. I am a 19-year old male college student in Grand Rapids, Michigan. During the course of the summer, I will post regularly, but during school the posts will be fewer and far in between.

Next, I will tell you why I picked the name I did for this blog. Johnny Creed is a fictional detective who runs the CIA (Creed Investigation Agency). This character will be the star of an upcoming story that I will be posting soon. As I said, more is coming.
God Bless for now.