Irrewind, 20100619: Soldier Fiction

I write a lot of military fiction (for a variety of reasons), and while I was perusing some older works, I noticed I had a tendency to write military pieces which were not necessarily "military." Yes, the protagonists of these pieces are clearly soldiers, but the situations presented are merely those of, well, life in general. "Soldier fiction," maybe, rather than "military fiction."

Honestly, I hadn't realized that I do this, but in realizing it I am rather intrigued.  Perhaps you will be, too.

"But First, a Funeral"
He took a breath, straightened his uniform as well as he could. It didn't fit as well as he remembered. A little tighter around the waist, a little looser around the shoulders. But it was his. He had earned it. His friends had died wearing it. And he would put up with looking a little out-of-place in order to honor them... because who else was left to do... Read More

"The Tightrope"
It was when the plan was scrutinized that everything revealed itself to be fucked up beyond all recognition. The logistics were gone. The supplier, and the supply line with her, disappeared into the urban jungle with a simple note containing an apologetic explanation and a veiled threat. This, naturally, meant the strategy would have to... Read More

"Alone in His Absence"
Initially, he was going to wait for the widow to leave. He preferred to pay his respects in solitude, alone in the presence of his friend, six feet beneath his shoes. She stayed, however, and didn't seem to want to leave. She wanted to stay with her husband forever, and until the pragmatic conclusion that her own life still needed to be... Read More

"Awaycoming"
His grip was confident, loose, and fingers gently caressed all the right curves. Curves so familiar, they could be seen with eyes closed and felt with hands numb. Her smell hadn't changed, years of caretaking ensured a scent arousing and deceptively young. It's said that aroma is best at triggering memory, and it's true. Years apart erased... Read More

"Halos"
Mrs. Taylor kept to herself. She was not an old woman. Early 50s at the time it happened, she might have looked 60 or so, but that's what happens when life gets too stressful or, in her case, too depressing. Of course, I didn't know that then. All I knew about her was that she had money and how her smile looked when she bothered to say... Read More