fact or fiction

Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about the military and the physical, logistical, emotional and moral obstacles involved.

A room on the Moika
The room was filled with the sweet smell of candle smoke. Despite the tall, broken windows offering grandiose views of decorated façades across the Moika’s frozen waters, the high-ceilinged room was dark. The sun had set long before dinnertime, and Oleg’s candle was the sole source of light.
By Sébastien Mouret6 years ago in Serve
A Figure For A Shell
A dark figure approaches... Its hand picks up the... About a month ago. "Honey I'm home!" Daniel shouts as he walks through the front door.
By Shan Lena6 years ago in Serve
Over the Panj
“What do you know about Matthew McCann, Lieutenant?” Lt. William Fox heard the colonel’s voice over the shouting gale of the wind and the propellers. He held onto the strap above, by now all too used to the heat and the dry air that buffeted into the helicopter.
By Gordon Hawkins6 years ago in Serve
100 Little Black Books
Mrs. Bernice Pink always carried her little back notebook with her wherever she went. Even her husband Chester, known to all as "Chester Pink the Mattress King," couldn't pry that little book out of her thin, pale hands that very special sultry evening in Chicago when he knelt on one knee with a heartfelt proposal at their favorite Italian restaurant.
By Melissa G Wilson6 years ago in Serve
All Threats
“Grandpa, tell us another story!” the children shouted. He’d finished opening their cards and now everyone had a birthday cupcake on a paper plate with colorful balloons. “Tell us the one about your leg!”
By Horace Wheatley6 years ago in Serve
Disillusionment
The dark splodges of ink sprawled across the pages of the journal arrest my attention. Pitch black, their meaning engulfs me and I marvel at their dazzling intensity and depiction of the horrors and triumphs of war, exuding sorrow, hardship, loss and suffering. As my eyes hungrily devour each syllable on the page, I am swept away by the depths of its message, transformed by its profundity. Inexplicable darkness pervades it, yet it is laced with hope, the simple musings of a young man caught in the throes of war.
By Tahlia Hunter6 years ago in Serve
Reaching for the Stars
I, Reggie Fishbourne, had reached for the stars and fallen short. Like a boy, climbing his roof, only to topple off the edge and land in the bush below. I would be lucky to walk away from my current predicament with only a few bruises and thorns stuck in my side.
By Thomas6 years ago in Serve
The Balance Demanded
The wind cried as it slithered across the battlefield carrying with it the stench of rotting bodies and the promise of more bloodshed. The cries of the wounded and dying followed the wind up the massive hill to the encampment of the victors of that day’s battle. Most of the tents were dark, the soldiers in them either asleep or dying on the muddy field beneath the safety of their bedrolls. Three tents at the center of the camp blazed with firelight and the bustling of bodies between two of them identified them as hospital tents. The third, slightly larger and filled with dire conversation held five people around a table covered in maps and battle plans. A sixth person, cloaked in the enemy’s colors and tied to a chair in a far corner, tried to remember every detail spoken in her presence.
By E.M. Vis6 years ago in Serve
The Desert Raid
A short story based on a dream I had Maxwell turned his head to look at everyone in the hanger. 150, 200 people, he reckoned. He still couldn’t believe he formed a team this big to go after his goal, a goal that became shared, a goal that was about to be achieved… Of that, he had no doubt!
By Gabriel Mohr6 years ago in Serve
In War, Good Graces
Silently, we looked out on the field from the depth of our trench, fellow comrades leaning against the bunker, glazed eyes peering through peepholes in mortar, folds in sandbags, mouths exhaling hot stale breath that misted in our faces in the cold morning air. We were a stack of sardines pressed against the interminable, cemented walls and heavy, sand-filled burlap sacks comprising the barricade, green steel helmets and bayonet-tipped rifles flitting the air. All of us, hundreds were collect, ready in courage, yet unspeakably horrified we might not be coming back.
By James B. William R. Lawrence6 years ago in Serve
Nazi Treasure. Top Story - February 2021.
April 5, 1945 Cpl. Lance Johnson, Pfc. Josh Dickerson, Pvt. Terry Parker and Pvt. Gary Daniels was sitting outside the office of Lt. Gen. Richard Taylor, who is in charge of finding Nazi treasure, that was looted during the German occupation of Western Europe from 1940 to 1945.
By Roy Tsukishima6 years ago in Serve
The Other Side of War
I slid behind one of numerous boulders, clutching the body of my M-16 as bullets bombard my barricade. The Lieutenant crouches a few yards away behind his own rocky fortifications, but we’re all that’s left. I think. I don’t know. It’s hard to know anything when you’re caught in the middle of an ambush.
By Melissa Carey6 years ago in Serve