The post is written in response to a prompt from Genre Scribes: Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #29 — Interview.

Of course I was nervous, who wouldn’t be. The weeks of waiting now boiled down to the next couple of hours.

I closed my eyes, focused my breathing, and thought of the conversations I’d had to prepare for today. Most people had said the same things; ‘I was the right man for the job, no way they could trip me up, no questions I couldn’t answer. Be confident.’

I was ready. Just as I had been. I was the right man for the job, I was confident of that, and the questions they would ask would confirm it. I could feel my pulse slow, my mind calming. ‘You are ready’ said the voice in my head, ‘be confident’. It almost sounded convincing.

Just then the door creaked open, and a voice said “General Tibbets, they’re ready for you Sir”.

As I followed the Private, I saw he was more nervous than I was, his clenched fists visibly shaking. A child to have lived through such events.

The interview went as expected. I answered their questions; Yes, I captained the flight of Enola Gay on the 6th August 1945. Yes, I gave the command to drop the bomb. Yes, I felt remorse but I was following orders.

I remained calm, stoic, and resolute. Even when someone suggested it was all, ultimately, my fault I remained confident.

And then, just like that, it was over,

The same quivering private accompanied me back to my cell.

The door clanged behind me, and I finally broke down. Sobbing long and hard over the death and chaos I had unleashed on the world.