A Different Eyeless Jack

This is a story told to me by the ghost in my room. As far as I am concerned, I think it is true. The ghost's name is Jack, and this is his story.
Jack was a teenager, who had a steady job at his local newspaper. He worked on the typewriter, as a "tiny movie critic", as he was not a professional just yet.
One day, his boss made an announcement that the United States had entered WWII. With the spirit of America in his heart, Jack immediately signed up for the army. Soon thereafter, he was drafted and sent to fight.
While he and his troop were holding back the Nazis, he befriended an Englishman, by the name of Louis. Now, Louis had gone to war because his town had been attacked, and he felt he had to defend his country.
Originally, Louis had been told to be a fighter pilot, in order to shoot enemy planes, and bomb any known Nazi hiding places. However, it was soon learned that he was given the wrong slip of paper, which was meant for a different Louis, and was instead drafted to the army. Jack and Louis became the best of friends in the trenches. They even went so far as to call each other "brothers".
As Jack and Louis's troop was about to charge into enemy lines, tragedy struck. The opposing side made a move on them first. Poison gas was thrown all around their base, causing Jack to go blind. During the commotion, Louis was shot. They were both sent to an army hospital just a few miles away. While in the hospital, Jack continued to cry and complain about the pain his eyes were causing him.
The doctors took a drastic measure, and removed his eyes. But even while he was blind, he did not dare leave Louis's side. He held the hand of his war brother, while a nurse named Betsy tried to nurse Louis back to health. Unfortunately, in less than a day after he was sent to the hospital, she failed to save his life.
Louis's grip on his brother's hand loosened. His last breath was calm, as though he were going to sleep. Jack wanted to cry, but his eye sockets still hurt from the surgery. Instead, he shook, and called for his brother to come back to him. He bit his lip to the point of bleeding. Jack swore at the doctors for taking away the body of his brother. For this, the doctors sedated him, and he slept for a full three days.
When he woke up, a doctor read a telegram to him, telling him that he could go home. He was lead by Betsy to where they had buried the dead soldiers, and found the spot for Louis. Jack said his goodbyes, and kissed the dirt under which his brother was buried. He then left, going back home to America. However, only more sadness awaited him there. 
When he arrived, his mother greeted him in tears about him no longer having eyes. He told her that was nothing to be sad about. She noted that she was already depressed. Jack wondered what in the world could have made her so sad, as his mother was normally so cheery and full of energy.
That was when she said it. Mark, Jack's brother who worked in a factory, had been killed from asbestos particles in the air polluting his lungs. Jack mourned the loss of yet another brother. One week later he mourned the loss of his mother. He claimed that she probably died of a broken heart.
Jack was all alone now. His father had died from tuberculosis when he was five. Now Louis, Mark, and his mother were dead. No one was there to guide this blind man, to comfort him, or to offer him food or water or shelter or even something so small as a loving embrace.
Late one night, Jack felt his way around his old room until he reached an old wooden desk. He kept in his old handgun from the war in its drawer. It was loaded and ready to fire; he had made sure of that, in case a burglar would come and try to hurt him or his mother. But she was gone now. There was only one use for this gun now.
Jack opened his mouth, pointed the gun down his throat, and pulled the trigger. His vocal cords and trachea were ripped apart in a millisecond. His lifeless body fell to the floor. However, much to his surprise, he found himself still standing.
For some reason, the sudden flash and report of the gunfire had triggered something in his mind, that made him forget about everything that had happened prior to his death. He was confused as to why he had done it. Unable to escape, he stayed in the house that meant the most to him, even though he does not know if the house he died in is the same one that meant the most to him. He hoped for an answer.
Jack told me that he remembered all this, because we had been studying WWII in World History, and the photographs of soldiers made him remember. This voiceless ghost tells me these things by conveying different amounts of energy to form words, whether in my head, or on my EVP recorder.
The once happy spirit, who was so excited and foreign to everything, is now secluded and depressed. He talks of nothing but the war now.
Before he told me about the war, I had indeed showed him some other Creepypasta stories. He finds it ironic that he is like "Eyeless Jack" in so many ways. He told me he likes/relates to the story so well, that he will answer to "Jack" or "Eyeless Jack" if I ask him anything. Do not tell him that he THE Eyeless Jack. He does not think he is, however fascinated he may be about the story.
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