#the pacific theatre

[footprintsinthesxnd]

The Good Die Young

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+, swearing, major character death. Pairings: Jake Seresin × f!reader. Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bare in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this.

Pavuvu May 1944

“You’re okay George. You’re gonna be just fine,” Jake promised, pulling the blanket over George’s shivering body. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his teeth chattering like a train on its tracks.

“You okay, Georgie?” Edward asked as he lay across his cot, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as the medic cleaned another sore on his back.

“Never better,” George whispered hoarsely, staring out from beneath the mountain of blankets, that despite the humid weather we’re doing nothing to bring him any warmth.

“You boys really need to go to the hospital. I’m going to try and pull a few strings, and get you to the hospital at Banika. I’m going to pull some paper and get you boys of this godforsaken place. You game?” The medic asked, looking at the two men in question.

“Hell yeah,” George and Edward replied and Jake smiled at the thought, at least two of his three remaining friends would be safe away from this hell hole.

“Sounds like a great plan. Thanks, Doc.” Jake followed the medic out of the tent. “How long do you think they’ll be gone for?”

“As long as they need to be. They need to rest, as do we all.”

“Well, there’s not a lot of chance of that around here, hey Doc?” Jake laughed and the medic nodded. After all, a good, deep sleep is a valuable commodity that was hard to come by in this place; both of them were well aware that the next battle wouldn’t be far off.

“What are you going to do without us around?” George chuckled, giving Jake his hand to shake. Jake took it instantly, shaking it as if it might be the last time he would see him. He hoped it wouldn’t be, he desperately wanted his friends to return but he also wanted them as far away from the war as possible, where they would be safe.

“Well, I’ll have Frank to keep me out of trouble. Don’t worry about me, okay? You just concentrate on getting better.” Jake felt a pang of sadness as he watched his two friends leave, with Edward pushing George in his wheelchair up the ramp of the troop ship. Jake never really felt alone, even when he was home sick and now he felt as though he was losing his family all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pavuvu June 1944

Dear Jake,

I’m not sure when this letter will reach you but your son was born 18th May at quarter to midnight. He is a little bundle of joy and he has your eyes. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Jake. I’ve enclosed a picture so you can keep him close to your heart. I have called him Jacob. It is only fitting that he has his fathers name.

News of the war is worse than ever. There was a large attack on Europe named D-Day on 6th June. I fear the war is far from won and fighting in North Africa continues still too. I am pleased to be away from work for a while. The never ending stream of bad news is almost too much to bear. At least for now I can pretend everything is okay, that everyone is safe. I wish you were here to enjoy this peace with me.

Thinking of you always

Your Y/n

Jake smiled fondly, running his dirt-engrained fingers over the picture of his son. His son. He couldn’t quite believe that he was a father, that someone like him could make something so perfect and untainted by the world. How could something do pure come from this horrendous year? Jake knew he had to keep fighting not only for Y/n now but for little Jacob too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well look at this. Fresh meat.” Frank pointed towards the group of fresh, baby-faced Marines as they walked up the beach in full pack.

“Jesus, are they ever old enough to drink? They’re just kids for Christ's Sake,” Jake groaned, throwing his book onto his cot. Each time recruits were sent to the front they seemed to get younger, just boys who within a few days would be homesick and crying out for their mothers as they bled out on some battlefield no one had ever heard of, in a place no one had ever visited.

“Is this How Company?” One of the baby Marines asked. He looked petrified and as Jake studied his face he noticed that the boy had probably never shaved.

“Who wants to know?” Frank asked, leaning against the supporting pole of the hut , puffing smoke from his cigarette over the recruit.

“I’m Private Daniel Chase. I’m joining How Company as a Machine Gunner. I meant to be with Sergeant Seresin.”

Jake looked at him dead in the eye. He’d never once considered that he would be sent a replacement for George. He knew that George was still pretty rough in the hospital in Banika but he didn’t think it was enough for them to send a replacement.

“I’m Sergeant Seresin. Put your kit down on that bunk there and then I’ll give you the tour.”

The young Marine did as he was told, clumsily knocking Jake’s belongings off the table, cursing, apologising and then nearly taking Jake out with his Garand.

“Okay kid, put all that shit down. Let’s go.” Frank watched in amusement as the young Marine stumbled after Jake, trying to keep up with his long strides.

Daniel Chase wasn’t a bad kid. He grew up in Louisiana with his parents and two sisters. He was funny and likeable, and Jake quickly warmed to him, taking him under his wing like a younger brother.

That evening the COs had set up a theatre and played ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’ which mildly settled the normally rowdy Marines, except for the odd passing comment about the actress.

“Is it like this here most nights?” Chase asked, looking up at Jake inquisitively. The poor kid knew nothing of the world, Jake had realised as he gave him a tour of the camp. He didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, always said his prayers before bed and until joining the Marines had never done his own washing before.

“Sometimes. This is just to welcome the new guys, make you think that it’s all sunshine and rainbows until shit really hits the fan.” Jake knew he was only speaking the truth but regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, the fear on the young boy's face reminded him too much of George when they had first seen battle.

“It’ll be alright, kid. There ain’t nothing to worry about, just stick with me and you’ll be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peleliu September 1944

The doors for the landing craft to exit the troop ship falling open was the beginning of it all. The bright light poured through the ship's hull as each craft flew out the doors and into the open water.

“HERE WE GO!” Jake shouted to Chase who nodded at him nervously. The poor boy had already been sick twice on Jake’s boots while they were waiting.

Aircraft flew overhead, sending bombs down onto the beach that sounded like freight trains whistling above Jake’s head. A few stray bullets hit the edge of the landing craft causing all the men to duck down. No one wanted to get hit before even reaching the beach. The large 50-caliber guns on the landcraft opened fire, trying to clear a path for the Marines to land.

The noise was deafening and between the gunfire and explosions Jake could hear Daniel let out a small whimper. “I'm scared, Jake,” Chase cried and Jake just looked at him, giving him a small reassuring smile. Well what else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t a good idea to lie to the kid but at the same time telling someone they’re probably going to die wasn’t on the cards either.

“You’re gonna be just fine, Kid. Just stay with me and keep moving.” That was the last time Jake spoke to Chase, but neither of them knew that.

As the landing craft hit the beach the smell of smoke was thick in the air, the doors swung down and groups of Marines began charging up the beach. Sand, tree bark, and bullets flew through the air. The ground was littered with bodies as Jake stumbled forward, cursing and falling into a nearby crater, taking cover from the firing above his head. He’d lost sight of Chase and Frank soon after leaving the landing craft. The scent of engine oil was thick in the air as Jake’s chest heaved from the effort. He turned to see a young Marine fall into the crater beside him, blood trickling down his face, eyes wide and frozen. Jake thought he saw the life leaving the poor boy's eyes, all the memories, the love, and future plans all gone in the blink of an eye and all that was left was a shell of who he had been.

Jake bit back a strangled scream as he pushed himself from the hole, crawling along to the next one and into the tree line where he got to his feet. Raising his Garand, he crouched low, hurrying through the trees. Earth flew up around him, the explosions ringing in his ears as he desperately tried to get his bearings, the high-pitch whistling doing nothing for his sense of direction. The last thing he needed was to be running back towards the beach. The smoke created a thick fog through the air, making it difficult to breathe and causing Jake to splutter, coughing loudly. Through all the shrapnel and gunfire flying around Jake didn’t hear the whistling above his head, the sound of the aircraft flying over, not until the explosion went off right beside him. The blast sent him through the air, his body falling helplessly to the ground.

The ringing noise in his mind was the only thing he recognised as his eyes cracked open, looking upon the grey clouds above him. They seemed to dance across the sky, the smokey smudges against the clear blue were a stark contrast but seemed to bring comfort to him. Jake realised that he rarely saw the sky without clouds of smoke anymore. It was sad really, he had always enjoyed the sunsets in Texas, and he’d often watched them with his mother as a young boy.

“JAKE! JAKE! OH FUCK! Hang on buddy. Just hang on for me.”

“Frank…” Jake whispered, reaching a bloody hand out to his friend who took it immediately.

“It’s okay Jake, I’m here. You’re gonna be alright.”

“Frank…w-where’s Y/n?” Jake asked, trying to sit up but Frank pushed him back down immediately.

“She’s not here right now but I promise as soon as we get you fixed up I'll find her okay? I'll find her you just have to hang on.” Frank’s voice was desperate as he applied pressure to Jake’s wounds.

“I NEED A MEDIC GOD DAMMIT!” Frank screamed but Jake just smiled up at him, shuffling to sit up slightly. Confusion crossed Jake’s face as he tried to move his legs again.

“Frank, I-I…can't f-feel my legs?” Jake looked up at him worried, trying again and again to move his legs but nothing happened. Nothing moved. Frank looked down at him sadly, tears glistening in the edges of his eyes.

“You're gonna be just fine, Jake. We’re gonna get your legs all sorted,” he promised, resisting the urge to look over at Jake’s bloodied legs that lay a few feet from them. “I promise, Jake.”

“Okay, Frank. I…trust y-you.”

Jake didn’t notice the way Frank's chest heaved as he screamed for a medic, he didn’t notice the desperate look on his friend's face and he didn’t notice the large pool of blood that trickled out onto the ground around him. Jake just smiled, his blue eyes looking back up at the sky as more aircraft flew over them. He could see Y/n face now, smiling down at him as she cradled little Jacob close. He reached his right hand out towards her, trying to grip hold of hers.

“Come to me, Jake,” she whispered to him. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Jake? No, no Buddy. You’ve got to stay with me, Jake. Stay with me.” Frank watched in horror as Jake’s eyes slid shut. The blood pumping through his fingers mercilessly as he tried his best to keep pressure on the wounds. A medic rushed in beside Frank, applying bandages to both of Jake’s legs. Frank continued to shout at the medic as he sat back, shaking his head defeatedly at Frank. He didn’t believe him. The medic continued to talk but Frank didn’t hear a word. He couldn’t be the only one left. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Frank felt two strong arms pulling him to stand. The Lieutenants fought him, shouting harshly in his ears to keep moving and shoving a Garand into his bloody hands. The blood congealed around the gun, sticking it to Frank as if Jake himself was urging him to use it. His hands shook violently and despite the Lieutenant's protest he couldn’t help but spare a glance over his shoulder to his friend.

“Goodbye Jake.”

Taglist: @wkndwlff @a-reader-and-a-writer @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @airedale17 @shadowolf993 @topguncultleader @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @green-socks @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @bcon24 @books-are-escapes @dakotakazansky @memeorydotcom

[froody]

WARNING TO NORTH CAROLINIANS

our chiggers now carry TYPHUS

[theworldatwar]

US Marines wade to shore at Butaritari Beach, Makin Atoll - November 1943 CREDIT : Royston Leonard

[broadwayreprise]

i sincerely apologise if your personal favorite is passion, saturday night, anyone can whistle, the frogs, bounce/road show. i was going for broader appeal... it was sophie's choice.

[libraryfag]

its like sondheim couldn't write a musical without a demanding mother because his own mother had such a forceful presence on his own life

[sondheim-girly]

Today is Stephen Sondheims birthday! Go listen to a song of his, or a musical, or anything to honor his memory <3

[operaqueen]

Ezio Pinza and Mary Martin, in the original Broadway production of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific. New York, 1949.

[a-4skyhawk]

B-25 Mitchell of 500th Bombardment (Rough Raiders) over Wakde Island

[curaheehee]

Today I went to the Zagreb museum of broken relationships and I saw 2 stories around the 1940s but one touched me deeply. Tell me if you'd like me to write down the story it's truly so sad and touching💔💔

[footprintsinthesxnd]

The Good Die Young

Masterlist Next Chapter Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+. Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bare in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this. Special thanks to the lovely Fern @desert-fern for proofreading this chapter for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marine Corps Boot Camp December 1941

Jake stood outside the small wooden barracks, his heart pounding ten to the dozen. He knew that as soon as he stepped through those doors that would be it. Up until now, everything had seemed like a dream, signing up to join the Marines, leaving his home, saying goodbye to his family, the train journey, all of it. Yet now standing in front of the barracks where he would spend the next six months training to be a Marine Jake suddenly realised that it was all true.

“Hey, you can go in there, you know. We don’t bite,” a jovial voice called from behind him. Jake spun abruptly on his heels, coming face to face with a tall, dark-haired man. He was dressed in the same green uniform that all the other men were wearing, a cigarette hanging from the right-hand side of his mouth and a toothy grin.

“Oh… yeah… I know,” Jake stuttered, raising his hand to greet his fellow soldier. “I'm Jake, Jake Seresin. I'm from Texas,” He added after a short pause. The other man eyed his hand for a second before taking it.

“I'm Frank, Frank Martin from New Jersey but the rest of the guys call me Harvard. You’ll learn soon enough that everyone around here’s got a nickname.” Frank swung his arm over Jake’s shoulder, smiling at him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

Jake followed Frank into the small barracks, inside both sides of the room were lined with pristinely made beds, three of which were occupied by other men. Frank stomped between the lines of beds, heading towards the small group. “Fellas, this here's Jake Seresin, he’s from Texas.”

“Aye it’s Cowboy,” one of the men hollered, rolling off the side of his bed to greet him, his hair was ruffled and he wore nothing but his trousers, feet bare against the wooden floor. He was short, much shorter than the others, he could only have been about 5’5 at a push.

“This here's Johnny Carter but everyone calls him Shorty.” In reply Johnny snapped his teeth together, grinning wickedly.

“That one there, that’s George Smith from Alabama,” the man waved from his cot, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading. “And that on over there, that’s Mary.” The men all sniggered and the other man groaned. “I’m not a damn virgin for Christ's sake.” He stood and approached Jake, “I’m Edward Hughes from Arkansas and I’m not a virgin.”

Jake smiled smugly before nodding, “Sure thing Mary.”

The others fell into a fit of laughter as Edward raised his middle finger to Jake. “You know what, I like this guy,” Johnny remarked.

“Just pick a bed and put your stuff away. There’s meant to be more guys joining us but for now, this is it.” Frank gestures to one of the beds and Jake dropped his kit bag onto the bed next to George’s. The man looked up from his book, giving him a curt nod. Sitting down, a long sigh escaped from Jake’s lips, running his hand through his once neat blond hair. So this was it, these were the guys he would be spending the next six months training with. These were the men he would be going to war with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guadalcanal - August 1942

“God! I can't wait to get out of this fucking tin,” Edward groaned, slumping down on the bench next to Jake as the boat rocked him into him. Jake raised his arm, supporting the boy as he took his seat.

“Don’t worry.” George grinned, “You’ll be off here soon enough and in the tropical paradise of Guadalcanal.” The table erupted with laughter.

“Yeah, I'm sure all those naked native girls will be waiting for us on the beach with coconuts.” Frank chided, shaking his head at the absurdity of the other men's statements. “We’re at war, not on a damn vacation.”

“Alright Sergeant Harvard.” Johnny joked, saluting Frank as he took his seat.

“Hey Harvard, you hear anything more from the higher-ups?” Jake asked, peeling the orange that had been passed to him by George.

“I don’t know, Cowboy. Why are you desperate for some action?”

“No Sir,” Jake laughed and the table fell into a comfortable silence as the men enjoyed their oranges.

“LET'S GO, BOYS! EVERYBODY ON DECK! MOVE MOVE MOVE! WE LAND IN 5 MINUTES.” Their CO shouted, clapping his hands loudly causing all the men in the cafeteria to stand, grabbing their jackets and running for their helmets and weapons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The climb down from the ship was treacherous, the rope ladder swung back and forth off the metal boat as shells exploded in the water around them. Jake swung around like a rag doll, the straps of his Browning machine gun pulling him backwards off of the ladder. The waves lashed against the side of the boat, spraying upwards towards the defending Marines. If they didn’t feel seasick before, they certainly did now, Jake thought as he set his feet down onto the landing craft. The journey to the shore wasn’t any better, men vomited on their own boots, and waves washed over the sides of the boat, soaking the Marines before they even set foot on Guadalcanal beach. Jake had never been especially religious but he began mumbling the Lord's prayer under his breath, his fingers running over the cross his mother had given him that hung around his neck.

As the boat hit the beach and the door dropped, the men began to file onto the beach weapons raised. The sight before them was something they had never imagined. The beach was lined with other US marines, all waving to them as they sat relaxing against the palm trees. Jake let out a hearty laugh, turning to George, who was standing beside him, he grinned back at Jake as they began to make their way up the beach to greet the other soldiers.

“Well, that sure wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.” Johnny grinned, throwing himself gratefully onto the sand. Jake had to agree throughout all their training they had been prepared to face much worse on Guadalcanal beach. It was a pleasant relief for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night had fallen quickly, deep indigo covering the sky as everything fell into darkness. Jake groaned uncontrollably, his back sore from carrying his machine gun and the wall of his foxhole was unnecessarily hard.

“Quite wriggling,” George moaned, shoving Jake hard in the ribs.

Jake sighed, settling back down. His eyes kept trying to drift close but the painful feeling spreading through his back caused him to jolt awake. The sounds of explosions out to sea as the Navy took a battering from the Japanese fleet also didn’t help the situation.

“It’s like the fucking Fourth of July out there.” George huffed again, bright blue eyes the only part of him visible in the darkness. Jake hummed in agreement. It was the most magnificent and terrifying display of firepower that Jake had ever witnessed. A bright light cast its glow across the men startled them all. George began loading the 30 caliber ammunition methodically, while Jake aimed the Browning machine gun towards the light, just like they had every day at boot camp.

Shadows appeared through the jungle, nearing the river that separates them from the enemy. Around them mortar rounds and gunfire erupted. Jake squeezed the trigger over and over, releasing short rounds of bullets as George fed them into the machine gun. Everything happened in a blur; the flashes of the gunfire, the screams and grunts of dying falling on deafened ears that rung from explosions, as they tumbled to the ground blind from the muzzle flashes of their enemies.. Jake had never felt fear like this. His heart pounded like a caged bird inside his chest, desperate to break out of his rib cage, his throat tight as if being strangled by some invisible force.

By morning the devastation was evident, bodies from both sides littered the beach where bullets had ripped through their bodies, leaving gruesome pockmarks. The smell of burnt flesh, sweet blood, and gun powder filled Jake’s nostrils, turning his stomach as bile began to rise at the back of his throat.

A few of the other Marines walked between the bodies, looting them for anything they could get their hands on. Jake couldn’t bear it, turning away from the wretched scene and moving back to his foxhole. He slumped back inside, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. George sat beside him, performing a similar motion. Both men watched each other carefully, similar expressions gracing both their faces. This was it. This was the war they had been waiting for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where the fuck is the Navy?” Edward asked, throwing his arms towards the empty sea.

“Gone,” Frank replied, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips, “along with all our food, medical supplies and extra ammo. The Japs sank the lot.” All the men on the beach went silent, staring out into the devastation. Planks of wood and debris could be seen floating towards the shore, accompanied by bodies of the ship's crew.

“We move out in five,” their CO called, walking quickly between the men.

“Guess we’re on our own now boys,” Jake chimed in, slinging the machine gun over his shoulders and balancing his hands across either side of it. The others nodded, grabbing their gear and falling into formation for the march off of the beach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jake sighed once again as the Santa hat fell over his eyes. So much for being home for Christmas. Everyone on the beach was jovial, hymns played softly from the record player in battalion HQ, and there was a football game happening on the beach with a coconut. All in all, you could almost say that people were happy, content. Jake was sitting across from George scribbling on a crumpled piece of paper, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

“Hey, what ya writing?” Jake asked, shuffling closer to his friend.

“Just a letter to Florence,” George replied, unphased by the sudden attention he had gained from the men surrounding him.

“She sure is a looker George,” Jake smiled, thinking of the picture of Florence between his fingers before retiring it to George. Florence was George’s fiancée, a nurse who was currently stationed in England. George spoke of her often and Jake had grown to feel like he’d known her his whole life.

“Are you telling her how handsome I am?” Johnny asked, leaning backwards from his seat on a crate to catch a glimpse of the letter.

“No, you’re ugly and short. She wouldn’t want you.” George grinned as Johnny flicked some sand in his direction.

“So tell us then. Out of all the guys, who do you think she’d pick? Other than you.” Johnny cocked his eyebrow challenging him.

George sighed, “I don’t know. I’d like to think she wouldn’t pick any of you idiots but I guess Frank, he’s not so ugly.”

“Get in line George, I’ve got plenty of women after me.” Frank joked, the cigar twitching as his lips formed a smile. A small chorus of protest followed as the other men took offence but it was all in jest.

“GET YOUR GEAR! WE’RE MOVING OUT!” An officer's voice bellowed from behind the group of Marines.

“Thank Christ,” Frank spoke up, “We’re finally leaving this shithole.” Cheers erupted amongst them as everyone hurried to grab their belongings. And so it was they were leaving Guadalcanal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @wkndwlff @a-reader-and-a-writer @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @airedale17 @shadowolf993 @flyboyjake @topguncultleader @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @green-socks @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @roostette @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @shadowsintheknight @bcon24 @genius2050

[pylonium]

I want pacific rim in imax 3D again waaaaaahhhh waaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh

[greeneyed-thestral]

[rabbitcruiser]

The City of Los Angeles was incorporated on April 4, 1850.