Whumptober Day 8: Back from the dead
Summary: Vietnam, 1967. Marine Captain Alfred F. Jones, born on July 4th 1942, is killed in action at 0930 hours, twenty klicks from Quang Tri city. This is the aftermath.
Or: Alfred, through the eyes of one of his men. Because not every human’s experience coming face-to-face with their nation is a good one.
Notes: CW for violence, death, graphic injuries, war, depictions of PTSD, murder and Cold War-era imperialism. This fic leans hard on the darker side of ‘nations as creepy as hell eldritches and their relationship with war’; citizenship, loyalty and nationhood can cut many ways can’t it?
“VC” refers to the Viet Cong— the Vietnamese guerrillas who fought against both the US-backed South Vietnamese military and US forces. They were allied with, but distinct from the regular ARVN (aka, the North Vietnamese military). “Charlie” became a slang for the Viet Cong, because the NATO phonetic alphabet reads “V.C” as “Victor Charlie.” [3.2k words]
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One week after Jones dies, a VC sniper nails me twice in the right thigh on a night patrol, with all the suddenness and wrath of a prayer answered by the Almighty.
Maybe Charlie had been aiming for my balls and had missed, the helo pilot on the medevac chopper had guffawed. He’d seen people in worse shape than me, I’d live, so just sit tight and shut up.
It enters my leg at a diagonal, it hurts like a bitch, fractures my thigh bone, shreds a whole lot of muscle and nerve tissue, nicks a major artery; I lose buckets of blood. The surgeon at the field hospital in Khe Sanh who ties the artery, fishes out the bullet fragments and sews me back together tells me that at best, I’d walk with a painful limp all my life—if I even recover that much function. Then, I get a raging infection. I burn and I freeze; my temperature shoots to a hundred and three, I’m pumped with antibiotics, I’m told I nearly died—but I don’t give a shit.
I’m giddy, delirious and incoherent, hopped up on morphine and euphoria.
Keep reading
Alfred's favorite holiday is Halloween, because he gets to see his little brother again
A redraw from 2022!
This was so fun to revisit, I really think my painting skills have improved! The first one is heavily edited in an art program, whereas this one I left untouched!
Don’t do drugs kids!!
fraternal.
also some quotes that plagued my mind while i was making this:
“Night, in which everything was lost, went reaching out, beyond stars and sun. Stars and sun, a few bright grains, went spiraling round for terror, and holding each other in embrace, there in a darkness that outpassed them all, and left them tiny and daunted. So much, and himself, infinitesimal, at the core of nothingness, and yet not nothing.”
-- Sons and Lovers, D.H. Lawrence "We're no longer young men. We've lost any desire to conquer the world."
-- All Quiet on the Western Front, Erich Maria Remarque
America: What happened to him?
Kumajirou: He was forced to socialise with extended family.
He might be living in Scandinavia for the most part, but there’s no denying that he’s just as much a UK brother as the rest of the lot is. It’s hard to miss
Finland is the kind of person who starts getting into Christmas mood as early as November. From late November, however, it’s the period where the Krampus wander around and punish naughty kids, until Saint Nicholas comes to tame them on December 6th. Because of this, December 5th is symbolically the day of the Krampus, right before Saint Nicholas puts them into chains. … Austria kind of feels their influence and can’t stand Christmas-related things before December 6th. On December 5th, his unsufferableness peaks. Not the best day for these two to meet, I bet lol.
Based on this meme, but I got the idea after drawing Austria as a Krampus for Hima’s April’s Fool thing … So, thanks Hima for accidentally inspiring me for something I’ve been planning to draw since April lmao
‘I watched empires rise and fall long before the first of your kingdoms crawled out of the dirt!’
- A.D. 1842 - @historical-hetalia-week day five…
I keep my embarrassing little thoughts in the tags where they belong
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