Paper 0 AMH 2020 Pep Im not related to any one famous.

No one who was ever recognized for their power or remarkable ability is listed in my family tree. Nope, the names and faces quickly begin to blur the moment our hallowed essences leave the already brightening sphere. Each person is soon forgotten, buried beneath the mourning tears shed by the few who remember. Each life was filled with accomplishments, sorrows, love and family, was left behind. War teased opportunities for glory, but with risks much higher then anyone person could imagine.. Young men swept up in thrill existence pledging the little they have to a cause much bigger then men. Shrapnel rained upon them engulfing them in experience that sliced deeper then jagged metal ever could. My grandfather is dead. Fresh out of boot camp, with only few weeks training my Pep was sent out on his first military expedition at the Battle of the Bulge. Swiftly plunged into a deafening darkness, exploding shells sheared into flesh, my grandfathers flesh. He was the only one in the foxhole to emerge. His first day in combat was his last. He spent more than six months in a hospital and they never could remove all the shrapnel. Crippled by the explosion and mounting medical problems he was forced to rely heavily on his wife and four children. Colored with the memory those lost in battle, his afflicted heart weighed down the remainder of his days. Now deep within an aged cedar chest lays an American flag and upon it, resides a Purple Heart which still caries the weight of the memories of forgotten men. My grandfather died at age 58. Neither my older brother nor I ever got a chance to meet him. This is in remembrance of him.