Mark gave up on trying to sleep once his clock read three in the morning, throwing the covers off of him and quietly hopping off of the bed to get ready for his dad's funeral.

He threw off his dirty clothes from yesterday and pulled on a black suit with a black tie, smoothing his wild black hair before wearily rubbing his face with his hands.

Everything felt so unreal to him.

"Morning Mark." Thomas greeted him with a yawn, his eyes rimmed red from crying and hair sticking up wildly in various places, his clothes wrinkled and his face looking like he had aged years overnight.

"Morning." Mark mumbled back with a small wave, flashing him a weak smile.

"So..." Thomas trailed off, biting his lip thoughtfully.

"Yeah." Mark sighed, swallowing hard.

"I'm guessing you heard me last night." Thomas stated more than asked.

"Yeah, Mom too." Mark replied, pretending to sound casual when in reality he just wanted to bring Dad back and make everything okay.

He hated nothing more than seeing his family become so broken while he could do nothing to fix it.

"Do you want bacon for breakfast?" Thomas asked abruptly, changing the subject.

"Sure." Mark shrugged, following his brother into the kitchen.

Mark sat down at the table while Thomas made breakfast, humming a song their dad used to hum under his breath.

As Thomas finished making scrambled eggs, their mom trudged into the room with a black medium length dress on, fresh tear tracks shining on her cheeks as she wordlessly sat down by Mark.

Thomas shot her a look, but didn't say anything as he scooped eggs and bacon onto their plates before getting food for himself and sitting across from Mark.

"I hope you both know that I love you." Mom spoke up quietly, glancing between Mark and Thomas.

"We love you too mom." Thomas smiled sadly, getting up from the table and walking around to hug her.

Mom sniffed, but didn't cry as she hugged Thomas back before eating some of her food very slowly as if eating was a struggle.

After the trio finished breakfast, they walked to the cemetery where the funeral was happening.

Waiting for them was a countless number of military soldiers dressed in uniform with solemn expressions as well as a bunch of people Mark didn't recognize, the grave already dug and the sleek, shiny black coffin lying beside it.

"Thomas, will you-I-" Mark choked off, unable to finish his question.

"Of course." Thomas nodded, knowing what Mark was trying to say.

Together the two brothers approached their dad's coffin and peered inside at what was left of him.

His body was so badly burnt that he was almost unrecognizable, all of his hair missing and his uniform ripped to shreds.

Mark abruptly felt bile rise up in his throat, causing him to turn away and vomit onto the ground, sinking to his knees as his body shook violently.

He could hear his mom sobbing behind him and feel a strong reassuring hand pat him on the back, helping him regain his bearings.

Mark unsteadily staggered to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"It's time." A soldier told him gently, pulling Mark back from the coffin as well as Thomas.

"DAD!" Thomas screamed, thrashing against the soldier's grip and reaching out for the coffin while Mark numbly shuffled back to the crowd with Mom.

Eventually Thomas gave up struggling, tears streaming down his face as he reluctantly trudged over to his family with his head hung in defeat.

Mark opened his mouth to comfort him, only to find that he couldn't.

How could he if he couldn't even comfort himself?

The funeral service was a blur for Mark, his eyes remaining glued to the closed coffin until it was lowered into the grave, a folded flag lying on top.

One by one each member in the crowd snapped the grave a quick salute before shoveling dirt into the hole, showing their respect and saying their goodbyes in the process.

"I love you Dad, I miss you." Mark whispered as he hesitantly picked up the shovel, clutching the wooden handle tightly until his knuckles turned white.

He managed to scoop some dirt onto his shovel before dumping it onto the coffin with a solid thud that made Mark wince.

By the time everyone had gone through, the coffin was no longer visible, the grave completely filled and adorned with various multicolored flowers, as well as a few small American and German flags.

"Mark, come here." Mark's Mom instructed softly, motioning for him to walk over to her.

When he did, he saw that she had something in her hand that shone in the bright morning light.

"Your father would want you to have this." She smiled sadly as she pressed a simple golden band into his hand.

Even though the ring was worn and rusted in various places, he knew it was his father's.

Mark silently nodded in appreciation, rubbing the metal in between his fingers as he thought of his dad.

"I know you're destined for-"

"Hi Mrs. Fischbach, I'm sorry for your loss." A woman interrupted as she walked up to her, offering her a casserole of some kind.

She accepted it gratefully, leaving Mark wondering what she was going to say as she was surrounded by mourners.

"Mark, I need to talk to you about something." Thomas told Mark as he jogged up to him.

"What's up?" Mark prompted as they walked away from the mourners.

"I heard that President Franklin is wanting to start a war with the Japanese." Thomas whispered.

"Really?" Mark exclaimed in surprise.

"He's doing a whole speech about it later today and everything, I heard the soldiers talking about it." Thomas continued in a rush.

"Would Mom even let us go hear him?" Mark wondered aloud.

"Definitely not since she's more of a pacifist than a fighter. That and she already said no when I asked." Thomas frowned thoughtfully.

"Unless we don't tell her we're watching." Mark suggested with a shrug.

"You little rebel." Thomas teased with a genuine laugh, ruffling Mark's hair playfully.

"Wheres the speech being held?" Mark added.

"The president's talking to Congress, so I'm not sure how we'll see it." Thomas admitted.

"I'd assume it'd be in the Congress building." Mark replied.

"You game then?" Mark prompted.

"Count me in." Thomas nodded eagerly.

After everyone had left, the Fischbach family went home with armfuls of casseroles and too many apology cards to count, as well as handfuls of money.

As soon as they got home, their mom fell asleep, allowing them to sneak out for the speech.

Quietly the two snuck into the back, listening to the president speak in awe.

"Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, Members of the Senate, and of the House of Representatives:

Yesterday, December 7th, 1941 -- a date which will live in infamy -- the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.

Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.1

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.

Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island.

And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

As Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us.

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger.

With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph -- so help us God.

I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire."

Once the president finished, the room erupted in questions and concerns, causing Mark and Thomas to leave before they could be spotted.

"A real war." Thomas whistled in amazement as him and Mark slipped out of the building and started their walk home.

"Are you going to join the war?" Mark asked nervously, hoping he'd say no.

He couldn't lose any more family to fighting.

"I dunno." Thomas shrugged, causing Mark to relax slightly.

Once they got home, they both flopped into their own beds and fell asleep, imagining what the future would hold for them if they went to war.