Narrator: During World War II, the war between America and Japan had reached all the way to Japanese soil, and its intensity was increasing every day.

  Raiden: Commander, good news! We pushed the Americans back!

  Narrator: That day was actually Raiden’s birthday. After such a victory, the soldiers felt relieved for the first time in weeks.

  Commander: Raiden, relax a little. We won the battle. Have a drink.

  Raiden: I don’t drink alcohol, sir. I’m not even eighteen yet.

  Commander: Isn’t it August 6 today? Well, now you’re eighteen. Relax.

  Raiden: How can we relax when the war isn’t truly over? I’m going to the depot to get some water.

  Commander: Fine. And bring the beers that were sent for the celebration on your way back.

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  Raiden: They weren’t sent for celebration. They’re a trap left behind by the Americans. Why can’t you see that, sir?

  Commander: No. It’s a small gift from God to celebrate our victory.

  Raiden (muttering): A gift from God… you old drunk.

  Narrator: Raiden filled his canteen and picked up the crates of alcohol. Just then, he heard the faint but growing sound of engines in the distance. Carrying the crates, he stepped outside.

  At first, one of the soldiers assumed it was a supply delivery.

  Raiden: Supplies are sent on Fridays. Today is Monday.

  He turned his head toward the sound—and saw dozens of American aircraft approaching in the sky. Dropping the crates, he ran back inside to warn the others.

  Commander (seeing Raiden empty-handed at the door): Where are the drinks? Don’t tell me you drank them all!

  (The soldiers laughed.)

  Raiden: The Americans are back! We have to fight dozens of planes!

  Explosions began echoing from outside.

  Narrator: When Raiden opened his eyes, he was buried in rubble, his body aching in pain. He could barely remember what had happened. Looking around, he saw that the headquarters had been destroyed. Everything was covered in blood.

  Raiden: I told you it was a trap…

  A bomb exploded right beside him.