Fiction genre: Fairy tale (3rd person point of view - no specific person's perspective)

The Big Bad War

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, lived a man and his wife, who lived in a tiny brick cottage, which was nearly bursting at the seams with their nine, exuberant and joyfully energetic children: Jim, Penny, Karen, Jeanne, Mickey, Alan, Peter, Paul, and Terry. Although the family did not have much money, they were happy and spent their days playing games, making up skits and acting them out, singing, dancing, playing pranks on one another, tearing around the neighborhood, and more than anything else, laughing. Because they were such a large family, they all had to pitch in and help out around the house, cleaning, cooking, sewing, and caring for each other. The big kids took care of the little ones, the little ones took care of the pets, and they all lent a hand when a hand needed lending. They were indeed a happy bunch, until…the BIG BAD WAR came.

Jim Jr., the oldest of the nine children, enlisted immediately.

 “I’m going to fight for my country!” he said proudly.

The man’s wife, who had lost a tenth child in infancy, felt a part of her heart break on the spot. The daughters, Penny, Karen, Jeanne, and Mickey, wept.

The sons, Alan, Peter, Paul, and Terry exclaimed, “But who will give us airplane rides and piggy backs when you’re gone???”

The man said, “I’m proud of you son.”

Jim Jr. put on his brand new soldier’s uniform, gripped his pistol with shaky hands, and shipped out far, far away to a foreign land full of people he didn’t know who spoke a language he didn’t understand and fought a fight he didn’t know much about. He was gone for three years. When he returned, he wasn’t the same.

Penny, Karen, Jeanne, Mickey, Alan, Peter, Paul, and Terry were overjoyed to see him, but when they threw their arms around him, he didn’t respond. The children didn’t know what to make of it.

“Come play, Jim,” they said.

But he wouldn’t.

“Come sing with us.”

But he wouldn’t.

“Tell us what happened,” they begged.

But he wouldn’t.

Jim Jr. didn’t want to play games. He didn’t want to make up a skit or act it out. He didn’t want to sing. Or dance. Or play pranks. Or tear around the neighborhood. And he certainly didn’t want to laugh.

The man and his wife (and Penny, and Karen, and Jeanne, and Mickey, and Alan, and Peter, and Paul, and Terry) continued working, and pitching in and helping out around the house, and cleaning, and cooking, and sewing, and caring for each other. The big kids continued taking care of the little ones, the little ones continued taking care of the pets, and they all continued to lend a hand when a hand needed lending. They tried to be a happy bunch, until… a notice came in the mail for Alan.

“You have been invited to be a soldier in a foreign land far, far away full of people you don’t know who speak a language you don’t understand to fight an AMAZING AND WONDERFUL FIGHT!!!” the notice read.

The man’s wife felt the rest of her heart break on the spot. The daughters, Penny, Karen, Jeanne, and Mickey, wept.

The rest of the sons, Peter, Paul, and Terry exclaimed, “But who will give us airplane rides and piggy backs when you’re gone???”

Jim Jr. said nothing.

The man said, “I’m proud of you, son.”

But Alan said, “I’m not going.”