A little sum' sum' before I go...

Sinse, I'm leaving for a week I thought i'd leave you kids with something. I'm gonna post the story I turned in for my last project in Creative Writing this semester. I swear I could not impress that man no matter what I wrote. Perhaps I've lost whatever talent I might have once had. Oh well. It's not really finished, but it's long enough that you all can get some idea of how a hippie pacifist writes a war story.

Under Attack
When the jet taxied onto the take-off runway, it exploded into a great fiery ball. A lucky bombardier in one of the dark planes flying overhead hit a mark he wasn’t even aiming for. His only charge was to fill the runways with craters so the enemy would be unable to take-off. He was successful so far. The commanders of the forces on the ground realized this was going on and ordered the runway lights shut off. Those traitorous bastards would have to see in the dark if they wanted to continue that particular venture.
The attack hadn’t been going on for more than five minutes. Gigantic spotlights went on all around the base and began sweeping the sky for enemy bombers. Anti-aircraft fire streaked into the night sky from great batteries that lined the fences. They sounded like immense war drums, many being played at the same time, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, as if to help rally the troops.
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Cadet Jimmy Foster’s eyes burst open to the screeching sound of air raid sirens. He had no idea what they meant. He jumped from his bed with a pounding heart and ran to the door, throwing it open. The hallway was dark except for the spinning red lights near the ceiling. There was sound and motion everywhere. Confused voices filled the air.
“What’s going on?”
“Are we being attacked?”
“Is this a drill?” Someone far down the hall was attempting to give orders. Another ran by and stepped on Jimmy’s foot. He barely noticed. He was a fourth year Air Force ROTC member visiting the base. He had no idea how to act in an emergency situation. Someone finally managed to get the lights on. Jimmy blinked and squinted against the sudden illumination. He could see the grizzled wing commander moving up the hall toward him dressed only in under shorts, a white tee-shirt, and combat boots. He was carrying a heavy looking green bag. Following him was a much younger man who was dressed in similar attire and a pair of thick, black rimmed glasses. The young man had several training rifles slung over his shoulder. The two stopped in front of Jimmy.
“Get some footwear on, Cadet!” the wing commander shouted. “You need to be ready for action ten minutes ago!” He opened the green bag and took out two magazines of ammunition and handed them to Jimmy. The younger man un-slung a rifle and threw it into Jimmy’s arms.
“But, sir, I’ve never shot a gun before in my life,” Jimmy sputtered.
“Prepare to defend yourself, soldier!” With that, the commander and his lackey moved on down the hallway. Jimmy turned around and went back into his room. He threw the weapon and ammo on the bed and just stood for a moment, not knowing what to do next. His mind was totally blank. Ideas of what was going on began to leak in. We’re under attack? Then, what felt like an Earthquake shook the barracks. Jimmy was thrown into the closet. He regained his footing and grabbed his boots and a pair of BDU pants. He put the pants and boots on and another quake rocked the building followed by a loud boom and a crash. Shouts and screams came in from the hallway. Jimmy’s heart beat even faster. He took the gun and clips and ran out of the room. The hallway was filling with smoke. Far down to the left it was too thick to see through and people were yelling. Jimmy trotted off that way.
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A proper military is a well-oiled machine with the the purposes keeping its own integral parts in tact while systematically removing those of the enemy to the absurd end that no two machines are ever inter-operable, and when one is working in close proximity to another, they inevitably come into frictional contact. That's just exactly what was going on outside in the noisy night sky.
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The General of the base was standing in the control tower next to a bank of monitors. advisers and underlings were standing all around.
“Do we know who they are yet?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, damn it, what language are they speaking?”
“What haven't been able to cut through their jamming, sir.” The General stared out the gigantic windows surrounding him. He could see the the giant spot lights circling around the sky, the streaks of hot metal being shot into the night, and the mushrooms of fire that flashed and rose from the inky ocean of darkness that was the rest of the base.
“Sir, they've taken out the Communications building! We aren't sure an entire message got out.” The general put his face in a hand and shook his head. It was going to be a long night.
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Jimmy kicked twice before getting the door open. It had been wedged tightly in the now deformed doorway. Hot wind blew into his face from outside. It sounded like a hectic thunder storm out there, but there was no sign of rain. He turned around and looped his arms through those of his half burned fellow cadet and dragged him out into the night. He was sure the fellow had stopped breathing ten minutes ago. Jimmy laid him on the ground and looked at his face. It was a blank stare, his eyes still open. With a gulp, Jimmy closed the eyes and left the body where it lay. Snaps, pops, and creaks could be heard as the building began to fall into itself behind him. He began to move away down the narrow passage between barracks toward the road. At the edge of the building he stopped and looked around.
The night was short segments of dark and silent chaos punctuated by explosions, fire, and heat. A jeep flew by, veering from side to side as it went. The dull whine of airplanes could be heard far overhead.
Jimmy looked up and noticed that when the sky was momentarily illuminated by an explosion it was dotted with white circles. They got bigger with every flash. He soon realized that they were parachutes. They seemed to be falling sporadically to all parts of the base. Two of them were falling straight toward the street in from of Jimmy. He ran over and ducked behind some sandbags someone had sloppily piled on the sidewalk. He readied his rifle.
Soon, grunts and thuds could be heard as boots hit the pavement. Two men began shouting to each other in a language Jimmy could not understand. He was still scared nearly out of his mind. His hands were shaky and sweaty as they held onto the gun. The loud conversation ended. Jimmy tried to peak out of his cover without being seen. One of the men disappeared across the road between some buildings and the other came his way. They were clad in dark blue or black apparel and wore small helmets and goggles. Their parachutes were piled in the middle of the road.
Jimmy brought his head back down, hoping as hard as he had ever hoped that he wouldn't be spotted. The dark clad soldier stepped onto the sidewalk near Jimmy's hiding place and halted as a crackly voice came from his personal radio. Jimmy held his breath. The soldier shouted a response into the radio. It crackled again and the Soldier turned around and stood on the curb, looking up and down the road. Jimmy peaked out and could see the soldier's back. He had never used a weapon to harm another human being in his life. He was about to try. He wiped the sweat from his brow and took a deep breath. As quietly as possible he got to his haunches and began to creep out of his hiding place. He was about four yards behind the darkly clad man. The radio came to life again and Jimmy froze but the soldier didn't move. Jimmy stood up nervously. He walked as softly as he could toward the soldier and brought the rifle up to his shoulder. He had it trained shakily on the back of the man's head. Jimmy stopped about three feet behind him and put his sweaty finger on the trigger.
He took two shallow breaths and closed his eyes. It was time to do this. It was time to act in defense of his country. The moment that Jimmy had never seriously though would arrive had come.
He cleared his mind, opened his eyes and pulled the trigger. Click, click. He pulled the trigger again. Click. Jimmy gasped as he realized that he had forgotten to cock the weapon. The surprised soldier spun around with wide open eyes. He yelled an incomprehensible threat as he went for his sidearm. When Jimmy saw this he brought the the rifle back and swung it as hard as he could like a baseball bat and connected with the foreign man's jaw. He heard teeth crack and the man went down. Jimmy dropped the rifle and stood there huffing and puffing. He thought he might have wet his pants. There wasn't time to worry about that right now. Jimmy knelt down and rolled the soldier onto his back. He had a thick mustache and his face was covered in black grease paint. Jimmy couldn't tell what his origins were. The uniform had no markings of rank or country on it. The training rifle's flimsy wooden stock was now splintered. He took the soldier's pistol and extra mags. The little radio began to sputter garbled inquiries. Jimmy got up and put the weapon his pocket. He looked around to get his bearings. He could see the tall command tower near the center of the base. It was back-lit every few seconds by an explosion. That's where he would go. He thought about all the buildings and parachuters between it and himself. It would be tough, but he had to do it. He had to try. He had to try to survive the attack.