Chapter Text
“Please no.” Frank whispered with a quiver of nerves.
Frank’s heart crashed to the floor. The sound of the letterbox echoed through the small Jersey house. Followed by the soft landing of a small white envelope. The letter fell beautifully that contrasted with the damning contents inside.
Frank froze.
Ever since President Roosevelt announced the US entry into the war that was engulfing Europe into fire, ruins and death through the broadcast that caused America to stand still, frank has been dreading any letter that passes through the door. Fearful of the letter that would send him to his inevitable demise. On foreign land, cold and alone. He did not fear being welcomed by death by being swarmed in a hail of bullets that ripped through his body. The thought of dying alone however paralysed the small brunette.
The thought alone made Frank’s stomach churn.
He removed his eyes from the newspaper he was reading and glanced at his surroundings. The familiar flowery wallpaper that was pealing in the corners, the wooden kitchen counter that was scattered with mugs needing to be washed, scrap pieces of paper with his families notes and reminders of shopping lists and chores that were yet to be completed. What caught franks eye was a golden picture frame that encased a family photo. It was a photograph of his family at the beach. A picture that captured a normal happy Jersey family content with what they have. They did not have much but they were happy. A happy family oblivious to what the world would soon come to. Frank let in a breath as he smelt the scent of the meal his mother was cooking.
Franks mother turned to face Frank as she was cutting some food that she was preparing.
“Frank please can you get that? I am a little busy.” Franks mother politely asked.
Frank still captivated by the family photo did not register his mother’s voice. Frank still sat in his detached state and remained silent. His mother stood confused as she spoke again.
“Frank, are you okay Honey?” Linda asked in a concerned tone.
Frank was quickly pulled out of his transfixed state and looked to his mother. He met her eyes with a forced half smile.
“The post please Frankie?” Frank swallowed his nerves and swiftly replied to his mother.
“Yeah sorry…err…of course.” Frank stuttered.
Frank began to stand from the kitchen table. His limbs heavy with dread accompanied with the lingering fear of what the letter may contain. He knew deep down what was waiting for him in that hallway. Once stood, he started to slowly make his way past his mother. The smell of her comforting perfume filled his nostrils as he made it to the door that divided the kitchen from the hallway where the front door stood at the end. He paused as he grabbed the handle and let in a deep breath. A pitiful attempt to diminish his nerves. After a few seconds, he opened the door and started walking towards the front door. Each stride made his legs shake. Frank stopped to look down at the solitary letter that lay before him.
A lone white envelope with red, white, and blue stripes that followed the edges. The American colours that caused Franks face to drain of colour. A stamp in the middle of the envelope that read ‘U.S Army Postal Service April 14th, 1942’. Frank’s small spark of hope quickly vanished. This can only mean one thing. His fears were now apparent to him to be true. He picked up the letter with a trembling hand and stared at the neat address written in the left corner.
'To Mr. Frank Iero
49, Monroe lane, Belleville, New Jersey.'
He knew he had to handle this like a man. It’s just a letter after all. It may even be a letter advocating for donations for the military he thought. He was wrong.
He carefully opened the letter the reveal a folded piece of cartridge paper. He paused as he braced himself for the truth to be beheld to him. He opened the paper swiftly as if he were ripping a band aid off his skin. A plane-coloured sheet with small writing that read,
‘Order to report for induction.
You are hereby ordered to report for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States.
This is a mandatory service and if not fulfilled, legal action will be brought against you.
You will be expected to report for duty at the Belleville army recruitment building, 6 Wilson street, Belleville, on May 23rd, 1944, 09:00am where you will be advised on the antennary. you will be equipped with your uniform and other necessities. We advise you to take little with you. This can include photographs and small items that can be easily carried. You will be required to bring your official documentation with you along with personal hygiene items.
Your country needs you.’
A short but damning letter that caused Frank to remain in a frozen state. How could this be. His life was just beginning, he was young, dreams he longed to fulfil, a love to make his life complete, a family of his own to make. All being stripped away by something as small as a letter.
His eyes became glassy and a solitary tear escaped his eye. He was going to war.
Today was the 17th. He only had 6 days.
Frank did not believe in war. War is a way for the upper-class to gain power by exploiting the lower class and viewing them as disposable lives for their success. It is a vile waste of human life. Though, his grandfather fought in the first world war which brought pride to not only his country but his family. Frank being conscripted meant he needed to live up to his families’ expectations. He did not want to know the repercussions if he did not. He had no choice but to go. He did not want to let his family down. He would rather die a horrific death at the hands of war then be a coward and a disgrace to his family.
A voice called from the kitchen that broke Franks attention from the life defining letter in his hands.
“What is it, Frankie?” Linda projected from the adjoining room.
Little did she know.
Frank turned from the door and walked into the kitchen with what felt like an unbearable weight had been placed on his shoulders. A million thoughts rushing through his head. He wondered how his mother and the rest of his family will react.
In silence with no readable emotion on the man’s face. Frank handed the letter to his mother with a trembling hand.
Her face scrunched into confusion as he took the letter from the terrified brunette. Linda once taking the letter saw the American colours lining the letter with the unavoidable U.S army stamp plastered in the middle. She knew what it was. She knew what it meant. She looked to her son and their eyes connected. She saw a hint of fear in the young man’s eyes which caused an ache in her chest. She opened the letter in a quick motion to see if her belief was true. Her hands dug into the paper and crinkled the edges due to her tight grip. She could not believe was she was reading. Her son was going to war.
Her eyes began to fill. Though, she fought them back to appear strong and hopeful towards her shaking son. her father fought in the first world war and did his country proud. Her proud. He died in Belgium at the battle of Passchendaele in 1917. He was shot by a German enemy and lost in the muddy quagmire forever. His body was never found. He died for his country, the allies and for her. She did not want her son to go to war. She loved her son. But in her eyes, this is an honour. It is an honour to serve for your country. And from what she had been reading on the newspaper and had seen on the television about the horrible attack on pearl harbour and what Germany was doing in Europe. it was an honour to fight against Hitler and his evil force. Europe needs America. America needs Frank.
She took in a breath and looked at Frank.
“Well, this is it, Frankie. You are a man now and you are going to fight for our country. As much as I don’t want you to go as you are my son and I love you, this is an honour Frank. You will do me, your family, and your country proud. I believe in you son, you are a talented and strong man. These German assholes will not stand a chance against you! It should not have come to this. This is a fucked-up world we live in, but you must serve your country when it’s in trouble.” Linda said whilst holding back her own tears. She must be strong. For her and Fanks sake.
Linda waited for a response from Frank. He remained still. Silent.
“Frankie?” Linda asked in a soft tone. Not wanting to further scare the boy.
Frank, in shock as to what his mother had said, was still processing her reaction. She wanted him to go. Really? Let her son be sent off to foreign land to die? He gets that her dad died for our country. But her son? what could he possibly say to that. He decided he must keep his cool. At the end of the day, he did want to make his mother proud. He loved her.
“Yeah urm…I guess it would be an honour. What the Nazis' are doing is inhumane and cruel. But to be honest mother, I’m scared.” Frank replied, a tear regretfully traced down his cheek.
Linda’s heart broke into two. She was scared too.
“Don’t worry Frankie, the war will be over in no time when the Americans get there. Germany does not know what is coming for them and besides, your strong as I said. You will be absolutely fine. I believe in you. You will be home before you can even say pumpkin pie.” Linda tried to reassure him. She wasn’t sure if she believed her own words. She was worried for her son. the best she can do is give him some hope.
Frank gave a short giggle whilst another tear ran down his face. She knew his favourite was pumpkin pie. That’s why he loved her. He deepened his mother’s words. They were reassuring. Though, the fear of what to come for him was still invading his mind.
“Thanks mum.” He said with a forced smile.
He understood. He had a duty.
Linda gave her son a warm smile in return. she involuntarily eyed Frank with a look of love. She didn’t want him to go. She was scared these last few days with her son may well be the last. She wanted to take in the most of her time that had been cut short with her child. She couldn’t think like that. What was she thinking, this is Frank she thought. He is a strong-willed boy and can defend himself. He defiantly proved that when he was at school with the countless fights, and in bars. He would be fine. She hoped to God. she was a devout Christian. if she ever needed her God, it was now.
“No problem sweetheart. on the topic of food, dinner is nearly ready. Shout your father down. We need to tell him!” She gave him a motherly wink, trying to lighten the sombre mood that polluted the air.
“Yeah cool, I’ll get him now.” Frank promptly replied.
Frank turned away from his mother. As he turned around his smile began to fade. His worries still taking over him. He carried on walking to the glass double doors that stood at the back of the kitchen. He opened them and peered his head through the half-opened door to look upon his father. His father was sitting on the cherry red leather coach that had seen better days. His body had sank into the leather where small cracks were present from the repetitive sitting in the same spot. He was slumped and watching the small television in the far corner of the room. Not noticing his son’s recent entrance.
CBN news was broadcasting on the flickering screen. The suited man was explaining updates of the war. Britain being heavily bombed, Nazis' gaining territory in western and eastern Europe and speeches from men that looked important. This was not aiding Franks nerves.
“Hey dad, mom told me to tell you that foods ready.” Frank regarded his father.
Mr Iero tuned to look at his son to give him a smile.
“Sure son, coming now. I’m absolutely starving.”
Frank returned his smile and gave him a nod before he exited the room to help set the table before sitting down himself.
Mr Iero entered the room and began to sit on the chair on the left to Frank around the small round table. Smiles were exchanged as Linda placed the dinner dish in the middle of the table. She then proceeded to join her family in the chair between Mr Iero and frank.
Everyone at the table began to fill their plates with the hot food Infront of them. Clinking of pottery and cutlery filled the room.
Linda began, “so Frankie, would you like to tell your father the news?” it was not a question, and Frank knew what to do. But how was the question. He did not want to think about it anymore for today. He'd been through enough with the shock of the whole ordeal.
“Erm yeah sure.” Frank cleared his throat as he prepared for his next sentence. His father had turned his head to look at Frank. A curious expression painted on his face.
“So, dad, I’ve been conscripted into the army to fight over in Europe.” Frank stated. Curious on the reply he would get.
Mr Iero was silent for a second. Registering what his son had told him.
With a nod and a grimace in his lips he broke his silence,
“Wow that is a real honour son, I am very proud of you. You have become such an amazing and strong young man. America is lucky to have you. You will show those Germans whose boss!” Mr Iero paused to place another fork full of food into his mouth. “Remember the gun training we did last year? You were great. A real natural. You will find it a piece of cake.”
Frank appreciated the belief his dad had for him. That is the kind of words he needed to hear.
“Thanks dad, I appreciate it. It will be cool to serve for America you know. Step into grandfathers shoes and carry on his legacy.” Frank still did not want to go but he was not going to tell his father that. He needed to appear strong to make him proud.
“Amazing son. wow just amazing.” Mr Iero said with a proud smile on his face.
The family continued to eat with small talk scattered in every couple of minutes until the food was all eaten.
Frank began “Thanks for the dinner mother it was truly delicious.” Frank looked at his watch and looked back up to regard his parents. “Right, I Better be off to bed. Big day and all. Kind of tired.” Frank attempted to pass as a light-hearted joke.
Both parents looked to Frank and in unison smiled at their boy.
“No problem honey, sleep well. Goodnight my brave boy.” Linda’s heart warmed as she replied to her son.
“Goodnight son.” Mr Iero said. Followed by a wink.
Frank smiled as he made his way out of the room and made his way to his bedroom. As soon as he got in his bed, he just stared at the celling. The news he had received spiralling in his head. He could not believe this was happening. His world being turned upside down. The underlining morbid thought that he is soon to be welcomed to his demise. He was no real fighter. No big strong man his father made him out to be. He was Frank. A 21-year-old with dreams and aspirations. Not this.
He began to shed a tear. That was followed with another. He didn’t want to do this. He did not want to go to war.