Doctor David Johnson: A Short Story

I’ve lived a long life, and along the way I’ve made choices that I’ll never forgive myself for, and I don’t expect anyone to forgive me for them either. Some of the most powerful choices I’ve made happened when I was in the war. Where the jungles had such humid air that it was as though I was breathing in buckets of water, where danger lurked behind every tree in any form imaginable, and where the closest bonds of brotherhood were created. But as I look back on my time in the war, there has to be at least some decision I had made that did some good. Maybe if my choices did any good for the people in my squad or the civilians that we were trying to aide, but that could just be my mind glorifying those moments in order to protect myself from the pain and destruction they caused instead. I find that fact humorous, that my mind would be trying to protect me from the horrors of my past since it has never shielded me from the painful memories of Corporal David Johnson, my best friend.
He was a young kid barely 20 years old and he was fighting another man's war. He was stuck there just like the rest of us, the only difference about him was his charismatic personality. A personality that made everybody happier and made everyone, including myself, gravitate towards him. His personality came in handy whenever we needed to calm down hysterical civilians, for some reason they seemed to trust him more than the rest of us. That was one of the best qualities of my pal. He was a best friend that always had my back. Whether from an angry villager trying to attack me, guiding me away from those skillfully hidden landmines, or helping me make those difficult choices, I knew I could count on him. There has also never been a time in my life that I haven't wished that I could say I always had his back too, but one decision changed that